diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13774-8.txt | 12508 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13774-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 193885 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13774-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 258124 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13774-h/13774-h.htm | 12721 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13774-h/images/002.jpg | bin | 0 -> 25580 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13774-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39198 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13774.txt | 12508 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/13774.zip | bin | 0 -> 193846 bytes |
8 files changed, 37737 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/13774-8.txt b/old/13774-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..72d5422 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13774-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12508 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Rosa Mundi and Other Stories, by Ethel M. Dell + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Rosa Mundi and Other Stories + +Author: Ethel M. Dell + +Release Date: October 17, 2004 [eBook #13774] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSA MUNDI AND OTHER STORIES*** + + +E-text prepared by Audrey Longhurst, Gregory Smith, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +ROSA MUNDI AND OTHER STORIES + +by + +ETHEL M. DELL + +Author of _The Bars of Iron_, _The Keeper of the Door_, _The Knave of +Diamonds_, _The Obstacle Race_, _The Rocks of Valpré_, _The Way of an +Eagle_, etc. + + + + + + + +CONTENTS + + +ROSA MUNDI + +A DEBT OF HONOUR + I.--HOPE AND THE MAGICIAN + II.--THE VISITOR + III.--THE FRIEND IN NEED + IV.--HER NATURAL PROTECTOR + V.--MORE THAN A FRIEND + VI.--HER ENEMY + VII.--THE SCRAPE + VIII.--BEFORE THE RACE + IX.--THE RACE + X.--THE ENEMY'S TERMS + XI.--WITHOUT DEFENCE + XII.--THE PENALTY + XIII.--THE CURSE OF THE VALLEY + XIV.--HOW THE TALE WAS TOLD + XV.--THE NIGHT OF DESPAIR + XVI.--THE COMING OF HOPE + +THE DELIVERER + I.--A PROMISE OF MARRIAGE + II.--A RING OF VALUE + III.--THE HONEYMOON + IV.--A GRIEVOUS WOUND + V.--A STRUGGLE FOR MASTERY + VI.--AN OFFER OF HELP + VII.--THE DELIVERER + VIII.--AFTER THE ACCIDENT + IX.--THE END OF A MYSTERY + X.--TAKEN TO TASK + XI.--MONEY'S NOT EVERYTHING + XII.--AFTERWARDS--LOVE + +THE PREY OF THE DRAGON + +THE SECRET SERVICE MAN + I.--A TIGHT PLACE + II.--A BROKEN FRIENDSHIP + III.--DERRICK'S PARADISE + IV.--CARLYON DEFENDS HIMSELF + V.--A WOMAN'S FORGIVENESS + VI.--FIEND OR KING? + VII.--THE REAL COLONEL CARLYON + VIII.--THE STRANGER ON THE VERANDA + IX.--A FIGHT IN THE NIGHT + X.--SAVED A SECOND TIME + XI.--THE SECRET OUT + +THE PENALTY + + + + + + +Rosa Mundi + + +Was the water blue, or was it purple that day? Randal Courteney +stretched his lazy length on the shady side of the great natural +breakwater that protected Hurley Bay from the Atlantic rollers, and +wondered. It was a day in late September, but the warmth of it was as a +dream of summer returned. The season was nearly over, or he had not +betaken himself thither, but the spell of heat had prolonged it unduly. +It had been something of a shock to him to find the place still occupied +by a buzzing crowd of visitors. He never came to it till he judged the +holidays to be practically over. For he loved it only when empty. His +idea of rest was solitude. + +He wondered how long this pearly weather would last, and scanned the sky +for a cloud. In vain! There was no cloud all round that blue horizon, +and behind him the cliffs stood stark against an azure sky. Summer was +lingering, and even he had not the heart to wish her gone. + +Something splashed noisily on the other side of the rocky breakwater. +Something squeaked and gurgled. The man frowned. He had tramped a +considerable distance to secure privacy. He had his new novel to think +out. This invasion was intolerable. He had not even smoked the first +pipe of his meditations. Impatiently he prepared to rise and depart. + +But in that moment a voice accosted him, and in spite of himself he +paused. "I want to get over the breakwater," said the voice. "There's +such a large crab lives this side." + +It was an engaging voice--a voice with soft, lilting notes in it--the +voice of a child. + +Courteney's face cleared a little. The grimness went out of his frown, +the reluctance from his attitude. He stood up against the rocky barrier +and stretched his hands over to the unseen owner of the voice. + +"I'll help you," he said. + +"Oh!" There was an instant's pause; then two other hands, wet, cool, +slender, came up, clasping his. A little leap, a sudden strain, and a +very pink face beneath a cloud of golden hair laughed down into his. +"You must pull," she said; "pull hard!" + +Courteney obeyed instructions. He pulled, and a pair of slim shoulders +clad in white, with a blue sailor collar, came into view. He pulled +again, and a white knee appeared, just escaping a blue serge skirt. At +the third pull she was over and standing, bare-footed, by his side. It +had been a fairy leap. He marvelled at the lightness of her till he saw +her standing so, with merry eyes upraised to his. Then he laughed, for +she was laughing--the infectious laugh of the truant. + +"Oh, thank you ever so much," she said. "I knew it was much nicer this +side than the other. No one can see us here, either." + +"Is that why you wanted to get over?" he asked. + +She nodded, her pink face all mystery. "It's nice to get away from +everyone sometimes, isn't it? Even Rosa Mundi thinks that. Did you know +that she is here? It is being kept a dead secret." + +"Rosa Mundi!" Courteney started. He looked down into the innocent face +upraised to his with something that was almost horror in his own. "Do +you mean that dancing woman from Australia? What can a child like you +know of her?" + +She smiled at him, the mystery still in her eyes. "I do know her. I +belong to her. Do you know her, too?" + +A sudden hot flush went up over Courteney's face. He knew the woman; +yes, he knew her. Was it years ago--or was it but yesterday?--that he +had yielded to the importunities of his friend, young Eric Baron, and +gone to see her dance? The boy had been infatuated, wild with the lure +of her. Ah well, it was over now. She had been his ruin, just as she had +been the ruin of others like him. Baron was dead and free for ever from +the evil spell of his enchantress. But he had not thought to hear her +name in this place and on the lips of a child. + +It revolted him. For she had utterly failed to attract his fancy. He +was fastidious, and all he had seen in her had been the sensuous charm +of a sinuous grace which, to him, was no charm at all. He had almost +hated her for the abject adoration that young Eric's eyes had held. Her +art, wonderful though he admitted it to be, had wholly failed to enslave +him. He had looked her once--and once only--in the eyes, judged her, and +gone his way. + +And now this merry-eyed, rosy-faced child came, fairy-footed, over the +barrier of his reserve, and spoke with a careless familiarity of the +only being in the world whom he had condemned as beyond the pale. + +"I'm not supposed to tell anyone," she said, with sapphire eyes uplifted +confidingly to his. "She isn't--really--here before the end of the week. +You won't tell, will you? Only when I saw you plodding along out here by +yourself, I just had to come and tell you, to cheer you up." + +He stood and looked at her, not knowing what to say. It was as if some +adverse fate were at work, driving him, impelling him. + +The soft eyes sparkled into laughter. "I know who you are," chuckled the +gay voice on a high note of merriment. "You are Randal Courteney, the +writer. It's not a bit of good trying to hide, because everybody knows." + +He attempted a frown, but failed in its achievement. "And who are you?" +he said, looking straight into the daring, trusting eyes. She was, not +beautiful, but her eyes were wonderful; they held a mystery that +beckoned and eluded in the same subtle moment. + +"I?" she said. "I am her companion, her familiar spirit. Sometimes she +calls me her angel." + +The man moved as if something had stung him, but he checked himself with +instinctive self-control. "And your name?" he said. + +She turned out her hands with a little gesture that was utterly +unstudied and free from self-consciousness. "My name is Rosemary," she +said. "It means--remembrance." + +"You are her adopted child?" Courteney was, looking at her curiously. +Out of what part of Rosa Mundi's strange, fretted existence had the +desire for remembrance sprung to life? He had deemed her a woman of many +episodes, each forgotten as its successor took its place. Yet it seemed +this child held a corner in her memory that was to last. + +She turned her face to the sun. "We have adopted each other," she said +naïvely. "When Rosa Mundi is old, I shall take her place, so that she +may still be remembered." + +The words, "Heaven forbid!" were on Courteney's lips. He checked them +sharply, but something of his original grimness returned as he said, +"And now that you are on the other side of the breakwater, what are you +going to do?" + +She looked up at him speculatively, and in a moment tossed back the +short golden curls that clustered at her neck. She was sublimely young. +In the eyes of the man, newly awakened, she had the look of one who has +seen life without comprehending it. "I always like to get the other side +of things, don't you?" she said. "But I won't stay with you if you are +bored. I am going right to the end of the rocks to see the tide come +in." + +"And be washed away?" suggested Courteney. + +"Oh no," she assured him confidently. "That won't happen. I'm not nearly +so young as I look. I only dress like this when I want to enjoy myself. +Rosa Mundi says"--her eyes were suddenly merry--"that I'm not +respectable. Now, don't you think that sounds rather funny?" + +"From her--yes," said Courteney. + +"You don't like her?" The shrewd curiosity of a child who desires +understanding upon a forbidden subject was in the question. + +The man evaded it. "I have never seen her except in the limelight." + +"And you didn't like her--then?" Keen disappointment sounded in her +voice. + +His heart smote him. The child was young, though possibly not so young +as she looked. She had her ideals, and they would be shattered soon +enough without any help from him. + +With a brief laugh he turned aside, dismissing the subject. "That form +of entertainment doesn't appeal to me much," he said. "Now it's your +turn to tell me something. I have been wondering about the colour of +that sea. Would you call it blue--or purple?" + +She looked, and again the mystery was in her face. For a moment she did +not speak. Then, "It is violet," she said--"the colour of Rosa Mundi's +eyes." + +Ere the frown had died from his face she was gone, pattering lightly +over the sand, flitting like a day-dream into the blinding sunshine that +seemed to drop a veil behind her, leaving him to his thoughts. + + * * * * * + +Randal Courteney was an old and favoured guest at the Hurley Bay Hotel. +From his own particular corner of the great dining-room he was +accustomed to look out upon the world that came and went. Frequently +when he was there the place was almost deserted, and always he had been +treated as the visitor of most importance. But to-night, for the first +time, he found himself supplanted. Someone of more importance was +staying in the hotel, someone who had attracted crowds, whose popularity +amounted almost to idolatry. + +The hotel was full, but Courteney, despite his far-reaching fame, was +almost entirely overlooked. News had spread that the wonderful +Australian dancer was to perform at the Pier Pavilion at the end of the +week, and the crowds had gathered to do her honour. They were going to +strew the Pier with roses on the night of her appearance, and they were +watching even now for the first sign of her with all the eager curiosity +that marks down any celebrity as fair prey. Courteney smiled grimly to +himself. How often it had been his lot to evade the lion-hunters! It was +an unspeakable relief to have the general attention thus diverted from +himself. Doubtless Rosa Mundi would revel in it. It was her _rôle_ in +life, the touchstone of her profession. Adulation was the very air she +breathed. + +He wondered a little to find her seeking privacy, even for a few days. +Just a whim of hers, no doubt! Was she not ever a creature of whims? And +it would not last. He remembered how once young Eric Baron had told him +that she needed popularity as a flower needs the sun. His rose of the +world had not been created to bloom unseen. The boy had been absurdly +long-suffering, unbelievably blind. How bitter, how cruel, had been his +disillusion, Courteney could only guess. Had she ever cared, ever +regretted, he wondered? But no, he was sure she had not. She would care +for nothing until the bloom faded. Then, indeed, possibly, remorse might +come. + +Someone passing his table paused and spoke--the managing director of the +Hurley Bay Theatre and of a score of others, a man he knew slightly, +older than himself. "The hive swarms in vain," he said. "The queen +refuses to emerge." + +Courteney's expression was supremely cynical. "I was not aware that she +was of such a retiring disposition," he said. + +The other man laughed. He was an American, Ellis Grant by name, a man of +gross proportions, but keen-eyed, iron-jawed, and successful. "There is +a rumour," he said, "that she is about to be married. Possibly that +might account for her shyness." + +His look was critical. Courteney threw back his head almost with +defiance. "It doesn't interest me," he said curtly. + +Ellis Grant laughed again and passed on. He valued his acquaintanceship +with the writer. He would not jeopardize it with over-much familiarity. +But he did not believe in the utter lack of interest that he professed. +No living man who knew her could be wholly indifferent to the doings of +Rosa Mundi. The fiery charm of her, her passionate vitality, made that +impossible. + +Courteney finished his dinner and went out. The night was almost as hot +as the day had been. He turned his back on the Pier, that was lighted +from end to end, and walked away down the long parade. + +He was beginning to wish himself out of the place. He had an absurd +feeling of being caught in some web of Fate that clung to him +tenaciously, strive as he would. Grant's laugh of careless incredulity +pursued him. There had been triumph also in that laugh. No doubt the +fellow anticipated a big haul on Rosa Mundi's night. + +And again there rose before him the memory of young Eric Baron's ardent +face. "I'd marry her to-morrow if she'd have me," the boy had said to +him once. + +The boy had been a fool, but straight. The woman--well, the woman was +not the marrying sort. He was certain of that. She was elusive as a +flame. Impatiently yet again he flung the thought of her from him. What +did it matter to him? Why should he be haunted by her thus? He would not +suffer it. + +He tramped to the end of the parade and stood looking out over the dark +sea. He was sorry for that adopted child of hers. That face of innocence +rose before him clear against the gathering dark. Not much chance for +the child, it seemed! Utterly unspoilt and unsophisticated at present, +and the property of that _demi-mondaine_! He wondered if there could be +any relationship between them. There was something in the child's eyes +that in some strange fashion recalled the eyes of Rosa Mundi. So might +she once have gazed in innocence upon a world unknown. + +Again, almost savagely, he strove to thrust away the thoughts that +troubled him. The child was bound to be contaminated sooner or later; +but what was that to him? It was out of his power to deliver her. He was +no rescuer of damsels in distress. + +So he put away from him the thought of Rosa Mundi and the thought of the +child called Rosemary who had come to him out of the morning sunlight, +and went back to his hotel doggedly determined that neither the one nor +the other should disturb his peace of mind. He would take refuge in his +work, and forget them. + +But late that night he awoke from troubled sleep to hear Ellis Grant +laugh again in careless triumph--the laugh of the man who knows that he +has drawn a prize. + + * * * * * + +It was not a restful night for Randal Courteney, and in the early +morning he was out again, striding over the sunlit sands towards his own +particular bathing-cove beyond the breakwater. + +The tide was coming in, and the dashing water filled all the world with +its music. A brisk wind was blowing, and the waves were high. + +It was the sort of sea that Courteney revelled in, and he trusted that, +at that early hour, he would be free from all intrusion. So accustomed +to privacy was he that he had come to regard the place almost as his +own. + +But as he topped the breakwater he came upon a sight that made him draw +back in disgust. A white mackintosh lay under a handful of stones upon +the shingly beach. He surveyed it suspiciously, with the air of a man +who fears that he is about to walk into a trap. + +Then, his eyes travelling seaward, he spied a red cap bobbing up and +down in the spray of the dancing waves. + +The impulse to turn and retrace his steps came to him, but some unknown +force restrained him. He remembered suddenly the current that had more +than once drawn him out of his course when bathing in those waters, and +the owner of the red cap was alone. He stood, uncertain, on the top of +the breakwater, and watched. + +Two minutes later the very event he had pictured was taking place under +his eyes, and he was racing over the soft sand below the shingle at the +top of his speed. Two arms were beating wildly out in the shining +sparkle of water, as though they strove against the invisible bars of a +cage, and a voice--the high, frightened voice of a child--was calling +for help. + +He flung off his coat as he ran, and dashed without an instant's pause +straight into the green foaming waves. The water swirled around him as +he struck out; he clove his way through it, all his energies +concentrated upon the bobbing red cap and struggling arms ahead of him. +Lifted on the crest of a rushing wave, he saw her, helpless as an infant +in the turmoil. Her terrified eyes were turned his way, wildly +beseeching him. He fought with the water to reach her. + +He realized as he drew nearer that she was not wholly inexperienced. She +was working against the current to keep herself up, but no longer +striving to escape it. He saw with relief that she had not lost her +head. + +He had been prepared to approach her with caution, but she sent him a +sudden, brave smile that reassured him. + +"Be quick!" she gasped. "I'm nearly done." + +The current caught him, but with a powerful stroke or two he righted his +course and reached her. Her hand closed upon his shoulder. + +"I'm all right now," she panted, and despite the distress of her +breathing, he caught the note of confidence in her voice. + +"We've got to get out of it," he made grim answer. "Get your hand in my +belt; that'll help you best. Then, when you're ready, strike out with +the other and make for the open sea! We shall get out of this infernal +current that way." + +She obeyed him implicitly, asking no question. Side by side they drew +out of the current, the man pulling strongly, his companion seconding +his efforts with a fitfulness that testified to her failing powers. They +reached calmer water at length, and then curtly he ordered her to turn +on her back and rest. + +Again without a word she obeyed him, and he floated beside her, +supporting her. The early sun smote down upon them with increasing +strength. Her face was deathly pale against the red of her cap. + +"We must get to shore," said Courteney, observing her. + +"That dreadful current!" she gasped through quivering lips. + +"No. We can avoid that. It will mean a scamper over the sands when we +get there, but that will do you good. Stay as you are! I will tow you." + +Had she been less obedient, he would have found his task infinitely +harder. But she was absolutely submissive to his will. Ten minutes later +he landed her close to his own bathing-cove, which he discovered with +relief to be deserted. + +She would have subsided in a heap upon the sand the moment she felt it +warm and dry beneath her feet; but he held her up. + +"No. A good run is what you need. Come! Your mackintosh is half-a-mile +away." + +She looked at him with dismay, but he remained inexorable. He had no +desire to have her fainting on his hands. As if she had been a boy, he +gripped her by the elbow. + +Again she submitted stumblingly to his behest, but when they had covered +half the distance Courteney had mercy. + +"You're fagged out," he said. "Rest here while I go and fetch it!" + +She sank down thankfully on the shingle, and he strode swiftly on. + +When he returned she had hollowed a nest for herself, and was lying +curled up in the sun. Her head was pillowed on her cap, and the soft +golden curls waved tenderly above her white forehead. Once more she +seemed to him a mere child, and he looked down upon her with compassion. + +She sat up at his approach with a boyish, alert movement, and lifted +her eyes to his. He likened them half-unconsciously to the purple-blue +of hare-bells, in the ardent light of the early morning. + +"You are kind!" she said gratefully. + +He placed the white mackintosh around her slim figure. "Take my advice," +he said in his brief fashion, "and don't come bathing alone in this +direction again!" + +She made a small shy gesture of invitation. "Sit down a minute!" she +said half-pleadingly. "I know you are very wet; but the sun is so warm, +and they say sea-water never chills." + +He hesitated momentarily; then, possibly because she had spoken with so +childlike an appeal, he sat down in the shingle beside her. + +She stretched out a slender hand to him, almost as though feeling her +way. And when he took it she made a slight movement towards him, as of +one about to make a confidence. "Now we can talk," she said. + +He let her hand go again, and felt in the pocket of his coat, which he +carried on his arm, for his pipe. + +She drew a little nearer to him. "Mr. Courteney," she said, "doesn't +'Thank you' sound a silly thing to say?" + +He drew back. "Don't! Please don't!" he said, and flushed uneasily as he +opened his tobacco-pouch. "I would infinitely rather you said nothing at +all to any one. Don't do it again, that's all." + +"Mustn't I even tell Rosa Mundi?" she said. + +His flush deepened as he remembered that she would probably know him by +name. She must have known in those far-off Australian days that he was +working with all his might to free young Baron from her toils. + +He sat in silence till, "Will you tell me something?" whispered +Rosemary, leaning nearer. + +He stiffened involuntarily. "I don't know." + +"Please try!" she urged softly. "I feel sure you can. Why--why don't you +like Rosa Mundi?" + +He looked at her, and his eyes were steely; but they softened by +imperceptible degrees as they met the earnest sweetness of her answering +look. "No, I can't tell you that," he said with decision. + +But her look held him. "Is it because you don't think she is very good?" + +"I can't tell you," he said again. + +Still she looked at him, and again there seemed to be in her eyes that +expression of a child who has seen life without understanding it. +"Perhaps you think I am too young to know good from evil," she said +after a moment. "I am not. I have told you I am older than I look, and +in some things I am older even than my years. Then, too, I belong to +Rosa Mundi. I told you, didn't I? I am her familiar spirit. She has even +called me her angel, or her better self. I know a great many things +about her, and some of them are very sad. May I tell you some of the +things I know?" + +He turned his eyes away from her abruptly, with the feeling that he was +resisting some curious magnetism. What was there about this child that +attracted him? He was not a lover of children. Moreover, she was verging +upon womanhood approaching what he grimly termed "the dangerous age." + +He filled his pipe deliberately while she waited for his answer, turning +his gaze upon the dazzling line of the horizon. + +"You can do as you like," he said at last, and added formally, "May I +smoke?" + +She nodded. "Yes, I would like you to. It will keep you from being +bored. I want to tell you about Rosa Mundi, because you do not judge her +fairly. You only know her by repute, and I--I know her heart to heart." + +Her voice deepened suddenly, and the man glanced downwards for an +instant, but immediately looked away again. She should tell him what she +would, but by no faintest sign should she imagine that she had succeeded +in arousing his interest. The magnetism was drawing him. He was aware of +the attraction, and with firmness he resisted it. Let her strive as she +would, she would never persuade him to think kindly of Rosa Mundi. + +"You think her--bad," said Rosemary, her voice pitched very low. "I +know--oh, I know. Men--some men--are very hard on women like her, women +who have had to hew their own way in the world, and meet temptation +almost before"--her voice quivered a little--"they knew what temptation +meant." + +He looked down at her again suddenly and searchingly; but her clear eyes +never flinched from his. They were pleading and a little troubled, but +wholly unafraid. + +"Perhaps you won't believe me," she said. "You'll think you know best. +But Rosa Mundi wasn't bad always--not at the beginning. Her dancing +began when she was young--oh, younger than I am. It was a dreadful +uphill fight. She had a mother then--a mother she adored. Did you ever +have a mother like that, I wonder? Perhaps it isn't the same with men, +but there are some women who would gladly die for their mothers. +And--and Rosa Mundi felt like that. A time came when her mother was +dying of a slow disease, and she needed things--many things. Rosa Mundi +wasn't a success then. She hadn't had her chance. But there was a man--a +man with money and influence--who was willing to offer it to +her--at--at--a price. She was dancing for chance coppers outside a San +Francisco saloon when first he made his offer. She--refused." + +Rosemary's soft eyes were suddenly lowered. She did not look like a +child any longer, but a being sexless, yet very pitiful--an angel about +to weep. + +Courteney watched her, for he could not turn away. + +Almost under her breath, she went on: "A few days later her mother began +to suffer--oh, terribly. There was no money, no one to help. She went +again and danced at the saloon entrance. He--the man--was there. She +danced till she was tired out. And then--and then--she was hungry, +too--she fainted." The low voice sank a little lower. "When she came to +herself, she was in his keeping. He was very kind to her--too kind. Her +strength was gone, and--and temptation is harder to resist when one is +physically weak too. When she went back to her mother she had +accepted--his--offer. From that night her fortune was made." + +Two tears gathered on the dark lashes and hung there till she put up a +quick hand and brushed them away. + +The man's face was curiously softened; he looked as if he desired to dry +those tears himself. + +Without looking up she continued. "The mother died--very, very soon. +Life is like that. Often one pays--in vain. There is no bargaining with +death. But at least she never knew. That was Rosa Mundi's only comfort. +There was no turning back for her then. And she was so desolate, so +lonely, nothing seemed to matter. + +"She went from triumph to triumph. She carried all before her. He took +her to New York, and she conquered there. They strewed her path with +roses. They almost worshipped her. She tried to think she was happy, but +she was not--even then. They came around her in crowds. They made love +to her. She was young, and their homage was like a coloured ball to +her. She tossed it to and fro, and played with it. But she made game of +it all. They were nothing to her--nothing, till one day there came to +her a boy--no, he was past his boyhood--a young man--rich, well-born, +and honourable. And he--he loved her, and offered her--marriage. No one +had ever offered her that before. Can you realize--but no, you are a +man!--what it meant to her? It meant shelter and peace and freedom. It +meant honour and kindness, and the chance to be good. Perhaps you think +she would not care for that. But you do not know her. Rosa Mundi was +meant to be good. She hungered for goodness. She was tired--so tired of +the gaudy vanities of life, so--so--what is the word--so nauseated with +the cheap and the bad. Are you sorry for her, I wonder? Can you picture +her, longing--oh, longing--for what she calls respectability? And +then--this chance, this offer of deliverance! It meant giving up her +career, of course. It meant changing her whole life. It meant +sacrifice--the sort of sacrifice that you ought to be able to +understand--for she loved her dancing and her triumphs, just as you love +your public--the people who read your books and love you for their sake. +That is different, isn't it, from the people who follow you about and +want to stare at you just because you are prosperous and popular? The +people who really appreciate your art--those are the people you would +not disappoint for all the world. They make up a vast friendship that +is very precious, and it would be a sacrifice--a big--sacrifice--to give +it up. That is the sort of sacrifice that marriage meant to Rosa Mundi. +And though she wanted marriage--and she wanted to be good--she +hesitated." + +There was a little pause. Randal Courteney was no longer dissembling his +interest. He had laid his pipe aside, and was watching with unvarying +intentness the downcast childish face. He asked no questions. There was +something in the low-spoken words that held him silent. Perhaps he +feared to probe too deep. + +In a few moments she went on, gathering up a little handful of the +shining shingle, and slowly sifting it through her fingers as though in +search of something precious. + +"I think if she had really loved the man, it wouldn't have mattered. +Nothing counts like love, does it? But--you see--she didn't. She wanted +to. She knew that he was clean and honourable, worthy of a good woman. +He loved her, too, loved her so that he was willing to put away all her +past. For she did not deceive him about that. He was willing to give her +all--all she wanted. But she did not love him. She honoured him, and she +felt for a time at least that love might come. He guessed that, and he +did his best--all that he could think of--to get her to consent. In the +end--in the end"--Rosemary paused, a tiny stone in her hand that shone +like polished crystal--"she was very near to the verge of yielding, the +young man had almost won, when--when something happened that +altered--everything. The young man had a friend, a writer, a great man +even then; he is greater now. The friend came, and he threw his whole +weight into the scale against her. She felt him--the force of +him--before she so much as saw him. She had broken with her lover some +time before. She was free. And she determined to marry the young man who +loved her--in spite of his friend. That very day it happened. The young +man sent her a book written by his friend. She had begun to hate the +writer, but out of curiosity she opened it and read. First a bit here, +then a bit there, and at last she sat down and read it--all through." + +The little shining crystal lay alone in the soft pink palm. Rosemary +dwelt upon it, faintly smiling. + +"She read far into the night," she said, speaking almost dreamily, as if +recounting a vision conjured up in the glittering surface of the stone. +"It was a free night for her. And she read on and on and on. The book +gripped her; it fascinated her. It was--a great book. It was +called--_Remembrance_." She drew a quick breath and went on somewhat +hurriedly. "It moved her in a fashion that perhaps you would hardly +realize. I have read it, and I--understand. The writing was wonderful. +It brought home to her--vividly, oh, vividly--how the past may be atoned +for, but never, never effaced. It hurt her--oh, it hurt her. But it did +her good. It showed her how she was on the verge of taking a wrong +turning, of perhaps--no, almost certainly--dragging down the man who +loved her. She saw suddenly the wickedness of marrying him just to +escape her own prison. She understood clearly that only love could have +justified her--no other motive than that. She saw the evil of fastening +her past to an honourable man whose good name and family demanded of him +something better. She felt as if the writer had torn aside a veil and +shown her her naked soul. And--and--though the book was a good book, and +did not condemn sinners--she was shocked, she was horrified, at what it +made her see." + +Rosemary suddenly closed her hand upon the shining stone, and turned +fully and resolutely to the man beside her. + +"That night changed Rosa Mundi," she said; "changed her completely. +Before it was over she wrote to the young man who loved her and told him +that she could not marry him. The letter did not go till the following +evening. She kept it back for a few hours--in case she repented. +But--though she suffered--she did not repent. In the evening she had an +engagement to dance. The young man was there--in the front row. And he +brought his friend. She danced. Her dancing was superb that night. She +had a passionate desire to bewitch the man who had waked her soul--as +she had bewitched so many others. She had never met a man she could not +conquer. She was determined to conquer him. Was it wrong? Anyway, it was +human. She danced till her very heart was on fire, danced till she trod +the clouds. Her audience went mad with the delight of it. They raved as +if they were intoxicated. All but one man! All but one man! And he--at +the end--he looked her just once in the eyes, stonily, piercingly, and +went away." She uttered a sharp, choking breath. "I have nearly done," +she said. "Can you guess what happened then? Perhaps you know. The man +who loved her received her letter when he got back that night. +And--and--she had bewitched him, remember; he--shot himself. The +friend--the writer--she never saw again. But--but--Rosa Mundi has never +forgotten him. She carries him in her heart--the man who taught her the +meaning of life." + +She ceased to speak, and suddenly, like a boy, sprang to her feet, +tossing away the stone that she had treasured in her hand. + +But the man was almost as quick as she. He caught her by the shoulder as +he rose. "Wait!" he said. "Wait!" His voice rang hard, but there was no +hardness in his eyes. "Tell me--who you are!" + +She lifted her eyes to his fearlessly, without shame. "What does it +matter who I am?" she said. "What does it matter? I have told you I am +Rosemary. That is her name for me, and it was your book called +_Remembrance_ that made her give it me." + +He held her still, looking at her with a growing compassion in his +eyes. "You are her child," he said. + +She smiled. "Perhaps--spiritually. Yes, I think I am her child, such a +child as she might have been if--Fate--had been kind to her--- or if she +had read your book before--and not after." + +He let her go slowly, almost with reluctance. "I think I should like to +meet your--Rosa Mundi," he said. + +Her eyes suddenly shone. "Not really? You are in earnest? But--but--- +you would hurt her. You despise her." + +"I am sorry for her," he said, and there was a hint of doggedness in his +voice, as though he spoke against his better judgment. + +The child's face had an eager look, but she seemed to be restraining +herself. "I ought to tell you one thing about her first," she said. +"Perhaps you will disapprove. I don't know. But it is because of +you--and your revelation--that she is doing it. Rosa Mundi is going to +be married. No, she is not giving up her career or anything--except her +freedom. Her old lover has come back to her. She is going to marry him +now. He wants her for his wife." + +"Ah!" It was the man who was eager now. He spoke impulsively. "She will +be happy then? She loves him?" + +Rosemary looked at him with her clear, unfaltering eyes. "Oh, no," she +said. "He isn't that sort of man at all. Besides, there is only one man +in the world that she could care for in that way. No, she doesn't love +him. But she is doing the right thing, and she is going to be good. You +will not despise her any more?" + +There was such anxious appeal in her eyes that he could not meet it. He +turned his own away. + +There fell a silence between them, and through it the long, long roar of +the sea rose up--a mighty symphony of broken chords. + +The man moved at last, looked down at the slight boyish figure beside +him, hesitated, finally spoke. "I still think that I should like to meet +Rosa Mundi," he said. + +Her eyes smiled again. "And you will not despise her now," she said, her +tone no longer a question. + +"I think," said Randal Courteney slowly, "that I shall never despise any +one again." + +"Life is so difficult," said Rosemary, with the air of one who knew. + + * * * * * + +They were strewing the Pier with roses for Rosa Mundi's night. There +were garlands of roses, festoons of roses, bouquets of roses; roses +overhead, roses under foot, everywhere roses. + +Summer had returned triumphant to deck the favourite's path. + +Randal Courteney marked it all gravely, without contempt. It was her +hour. + +No word from her had reached him, but that night he would meet her face +to face. Through days and nights of troubled thought, the resolve had +grown within him. To-night it should bear fruit. He would not rest again +until he had seen her. For his peace of mind was gone. She was about to +throw herself away upon a man she did not love, and he felt that it was +laid upon him to stop the sacrifice. The burden of responsibility was +his. He had striven against this conviction, but it would not be denied. +From the days of young Eric Baron's tragedy onward, this woman had made +him as it were the star of her destiny. To repudiate the fact was +useless. She had, in her ungoverned, impulsive fashion, made him surety +for her soul. + +The thought tormented him, but it held a strange attraction for him +also. If the story were true, and it was not in him to doubt it, it +touched him in a way that was wholly unusual. Popularity, adulation, had +been his portion for years. But this was different, this was personal--a +matter in which reputation, fame, had no part. In a different sphere she +also was a star, with a host of worshippers even greater than his own. +The humility of her amazed him. She had, as it were, taken her fate +between her hands and laid it as an offering at his feet. + +And so, on Rosa Mundi's night, he went to the great Pavilion, mingling +with the crowd, determined when her triumph was over, to seek her out. +There would be a good many seekers, he doubted not; but he was convinced +that she would not deny him an interview. + +He secured a seat in the third row, avoiding almost by instinct any more +conspicuous position. He was early, and while he waited, the thought of +young Eric Baron came to him--the boy's eager-face, the adoration of his +eyes. He remembered how on that far-off night he had realized the +hopelessness of combating his love, how he had shrugged his shoulders +and relinquished the struggle. And the battle had been his even then--a +bitter victory more disastrous than defeat. + +He put the memory from him and thought of Rosemary--the child with the +morning light in her eyes, the innocence of the morning in her soul. How +tenderly she had spoken of Rosa Mundi! How sweetly she had pleaded her +cause! With what amazing intuition had she understood! Something that +was greater than pity welled up within him. Rosa Mundi's guardian angel +had somehow reached his heart. + +People were pouring into the place. He saw that it was going to be +packed. And outside, lining the whole length of the Pier, they were +waiting for her too, waiting to strew her path with, roses. + +Ah! she was coming! Above the wash of the sea there rose a roar of +voices. They were giving her the homage of a queen. He listened to the +frantic cheering, and again it was Rosa Mundi, splendid and brilliant, +who filled his thoughts as she filled the thoughts of all just then. + +The cheering died down, and there came a great press of people into the +back of the building. The lights were lowered, but he heard the +movement, the buzz of a delighted crowd. + +Suddenly the orchestra burst into loud music. They were playing "Queen +of the Earth," he remembered later. The curtain went up. And in a blaze +of light he saw Rosa Mundi. + +Something within him sprang into quivering life. Something which till +that moment he had never known awoke and gripped him with a force +gigantic. She was robed in shimmering, transparent gold--a queen-woman, +slight indeed, dainty, fairy-like--yet magnificent. Over her head, +caught in a jewelled fillet, there hung a filmy veil of gold, half +revealing, half concealing, the smiling face behind. Trailing wisps of +golden gossamer hung from her beautiful arms. Her feet were bound with +golden sandals. And on her breast were roses--golden roses. + +She was exquisite as a dream. He gazed and gazed upon her as one +entranced. The tumult of acclamation that greeted her swept by him +unheeded. He was conscious only of a passionate desire to fling back the +golden veil that covered her and see the laughing face behind. Its +elusiveness mocked him. She was like a sunbeam standing there, a +flitting, quivering shaft of light, too spiritual to be grasped fully, +almost too dazzling for the eye to follow. + +The applause died down to a dead silence. Her audience watched her with +bated breath. Her dance was a thing indescribable. Courteney could think +of nothing but the flashing of morning sunlight upon running water to +the silver strains of a flute that was surely piped by Pan. He could not +follow the sparkling wonder of her. He felt dazed and strangely +exhilarated, almost on fire with this new, fierce attraction. It was as +if the very soul were being drawn out of his body. She called to him, +she lured him, she bewitched him. + +When he had seen her before, he had been utterly out of sympathy. He had +scorned her charms, had felt an almost angry contempt for young Baron's +raptures. To him she had been a snake-woman, possessed of a fascination +which, to him, was monstrous and wholly incomprehensible. She had worn a +strange striped dress of green--tight-fitting, hideous he had deemed it. +Her face had been painted. He had been too near the stage, and she had +revolted him. Her dance had certainly been wonderful, sinuous, gliding, +suggestive--a perfectly conceived scheme of evil. And she had thought to +entrap him with it! The very memory was repulsive even yet. + +But this--ah! this was different. This thing of light and air, this +dancing sunbeam, this creature of the morning, exquisite in every +detail, perfectly poised, swifter than thought, yet arresting at every +turn, vivid as a meteor, yet beyond all scrutiny, all ocular power of +comprehension, she set every nerve in him a-quiver. She seized upon his +fancy and flung it to and fro, catching a million colours in her radiant +flights. She made the hot blood throb in his temples. She beat upon the +door of his heart. She called back his vanished youth, the passion +unassuaged of his manhood. She appealed to him directly and personally. +She made him realize that he was the one man who had taught--and could +teach--her the meaning of life. + +Then it was over. Like a glittering crystal shattered to fragments, his +dream of ecstasy collapsed. The noise around him was as the roar of +thundering breakers. But he sat mute in the midst of it, as one stunned. + +Someone leaned over from behind and spoke to him. He was aware of a hand +upon his shoulder. + +"What do you think of her?" said Ellis Grant in his ear. "Superb, isn't +she? Come and see her before she appears again!" + +As if compelled by some power outside himself, Courteney rose. He edged +his way to the end of the row and joined the great man there. The whole +house was a seething turmoil of sound. + +Grant was chuckling to himself as one well pleased. In Courteney's eyes +he looked stouter, more prosperous, more keenly business-like, than when +he had spoken with him a few nights previously. He took Courteney by the +arm and led him through a door at the side. + +"Let 'em yell 'emselves hoarse for a bit!" he said. "Do 'em good. Guess +my 'rose of the world' isn't going to be too cheap a commodity.... Which +reminds me, sir. You've cost me a thousand English pounds by coming here +to-night." + +"Indeed?" Courteney spoke stiffly. He felt stiff, physically stiff, as +one forcibly awakened from a deep slumber. + +The man beside him was still chuckling. "Yes. The little witch! Said +she'd manage it somehow when I told her you weren't taking any. We had a +thousand on it, and the little devil has won, outwitted us both. How in +thunder did she do it? Laid a trap for you; what?" + +Courteney did not answer. The stiffness was spreading. He felt as one +turned to stone. Mechanically he yielded to the hand upon his arm, not +speaking, scarcely thinking. + +And then--almost before he knew it--he was in her presence, face to face +with the golden vision that had caught and--for a space at least--had +held his heart. + +He bowed, still silent, still strangely bound and fettered by the +compelling force. + +A hand that was lithe and slender and oddly boyish came out to him. A +voice that had in it sweet, lilting notes, like the voice of a laughing +child, spoke his name. + +"Mr. Courteney! How kind!" it said. + +As from a distance he heard Grant speak. "Mr. Courteney, allow me to +introduce you--my wife!" + +There was a dainty movement like the flash of shimmering wings. He +looked up. She had thrown back her veil. + +He gazed upon her. "Rosemary!" + +She looked back at him above the roses with eyes that were deeply +purple--as the depths of the sea. "Yes, I am Rosemary--to my friends," +she said. + +Ellis Grant was laughing still, in his massive, contented way. "But to +her lover," he said, "she is--and always has been--Rosa Mundi." + +Then speech came back to Courteney, and strength returned. He held +himself in firm restraint. He had been stricken, but he did not flinch. + +"Your husband?" he said. + +She indicated Grant with a careless hand. "Since yesterday," she said. + +He bowed to her again, severely formal. "May I wish you joy?" he said. + +There was an instant's pause, and in that instant something happened. +She had not moved. Her eyes still met his own, but it was as if a veil +had dropped between them suddenly. He saw the purple depths no more. + +"Thank you," said Rosa Mundi, with her little girlish laugh. + + * * * * * + +As he strode down the Pier a few minutes later, he likened the scent +of the crushed roses that strewed the way to the fumes of +sacrifice--sacrifice offered at the feet of a goddess who cared for +nothing sacred. Not till long after did he remember the tears that he +had seen her shed. + + + + +A Debt of Honour + +I + +HOPE AND THE MAGICIAN + + +They lived in the rotten white bungalow at the end of the valley--Hope +and the Magician. It stood in a neglected compound that had once been a +paradise, when a certain young officer belonging to the regiment of +Sikhs then stationed in Ghantala had taken it and made of it a dainty +home for his English bride. Those were the days before the flood, and no +one had lived there since. The native men in the valley still remembered +with horror that awful night when the monsoon had burst in floods and +water-spouts upon the mountains, and the bride, too terrified to remain +in the bungalow, had set out in the worst fury of the storm to find her +husband, who was on duty up at the cantonments. She had been drowned +close to the bungalow in a ranging brown torrent which swept over what a +few hours earlier had been a mere bed of glittering sand. And from that +time the bungalow had been deserted, avoided of all men, a haunted +place, the abode of evil spirits. + +Yet it still stood in its desolation, rotting year by year. No native +would approach the place. No Englishman desired it. For it was well away +from the cantonments, nearer than any other European dwelling to the +native village, and undeniably in the hottest corner of all the Ghantala +Valley. + +Perhaps its general air of desolation had also influenced the minds of +possible tenants, for Ghantala was a cheerful station, and its +inhabitants preferred cheerful dwelling-places. Whatever the cause, it +had stood empty and forsaken for more than a dozen years. + +And then had come Hope and the Magician. + +Hope was a dark-haired, bright-eyed English girl, who loved riding as +she loved nothing else on earth. Her twin-brother, Ronald Carteret, was +the youngest subaltern in his battalion, and for his sake, she had +persuaded the Magician that the Ghantala Valley was an ideal spot to +live in. + +The Magician was their uncle and sole relative, an old man, wizened and +dried up like a monkey, to whom India was a land of perpetual delight +and novelty of which he could never tire. He was engaged upon a book of +Indian mythology, and he was often away from home for the purpose of +research. But his absence made very little difference to Hope. Her +brother lived in the bungalow with her, and the people in the station +were very kind to her. + +The natives, though still wary, had lost their abhorrence of the place. +They believed that the Magician, as they called him, had woven a spell +to keep the evil spirits at a distance. It was known that he was in +constant communication with native priests. Moreover, the miss-_sahib_ +who dwelt at the bungalow remained unharmed, so it seemed there was +nought to fear. + +Hope, after a very few months, cut off her hair and wore it short and +curly. This also seemed to discourage the evil ones. So at length it +appeared that the curse had been removed, or at least placed in +abeyance. + +As for Hope, she liked the place. Her nerves were generally good, and +the joy of being near the brother she idolized outweighed every other +consideration. The colonel's wife, Mrs. Latimer, was very kind to her +from the outset, and she enjoyed all the Ghantala gaieties under her +protection and patronage. + +Not till Mrs. Latimer was taken ill and had to leave hurriedly for the +Hills did it dawn upon Hope, after nearly eight happy months, that her +position was one of considerable isolation, and that this might, under +certain circumstances, become a matter for regret. + + + + +II + +THE VISITOR + +It was on a Sunday evening of breathless heat that this conviction first +took firm hold of Hope. Her uncle was away upon one of his frequent +journeys of research. Her brother was up at the cantonments, and she was +quite alone save for her _ayah_, and the _punkah-coolie_ dozing on the +veranda. + +She had not expected any visitors. Visitors seldom came to the bungalow, +for the simple reason that she was seldom at home to receive them, and +the Magician never considered himself at liberty for social obligations. +So it was with some surprise that she heard footsteps that were not her +brother's upon the baked earth of the compound; and when her _ayah_ came +to her with the news that Hyde _Sahib_ was without, she was even +conscious of a sensation of dismay. + +For Hyde _Sahib_ was a man she detested, without knowing why. He was a +civil servant, an engineer, and he had been in Ghantala longer than any +one else of the European population. Very reluctantly she gave the order +to admit him, hoping that Ronnie would soon return and take him off her +hands. For Ronnie professed to like the man. + +He greeted her with a cool self-assurance that admitted not the smallest +doubt of his welcome. + +"I was passing, and thought I would drop in," he told her, retaining her +hand till she abruptly removed it. "I guessed you would be all forlorn. +The Magician is away, I hear?" + +Hope steadily returned the gaze of his pale eyes, as she replied, with +dignity: + +"Yes; my uncle is from home. But I am not at all lonely. I am expecting +my brother every minute." + +He smiled at her in a way that made her stiffen instinctively. She had +never been so completely alone with him before. + +"Ah, well," he said, "perhaps you will allow me to amuse you till he +returns. I rather want to see him." + +He took her permission for granted, and sat down in a bamboo chair on +the veranda, leaning back, and staring up at her with easy insolence. + +"I can scarcely believe that you are not lonely here," he remarked. "A +figure of speech, I suppose?" + +Hope felt the colour rising in her cheeks under his direct and +unpleasant scrutiny. + +"I have never felt lonely till to-day," she returned, with spirit. + +He laughed incredulously. "No?" he said. + +"No," said Hope with emphasis. "I often think that there are worse +things in the world than solitude." + +Something in her tone--its instinctive enmity, its absolute +honesty--attracted his attention. He sat up and regarded her very +closely. + +She was still on her feet--a slender, upright figure in white. She was +grasping the back of a chair rather tightly, but she did not shrink from +his look, though there was that within her which revolted fiercely as +she met it. But he prolonged the silent combat with brutal intention, +till at last, in spite of herself, her eyes sank, and she made a slight, +unconscious gesture of protest. Then, deliberately and insultingly, he +laughed. + +"Come now, Miss Carteret," he said, "I'm sure you can't mean to be +unfriendly with me. I believe this place gets on your nerves. You're not +looking well, you know." + +"No?" she responded, with frozen dignity. + +"Not so well as I should like to see you," said Hyde, still smiling his +objectionable smile. "I believe you're moped. Isn't that it? I know the +symptoms, and I know an excellent remedy, too. Wouldn't you like to try +it?" + +Hope looked at him uncertainly. She was quivering all over with nervous +apprehension. His manner frightened her. She was not sure that the man +was absolutely sober. But it would be absurd, ridiculous, she told her +thumping heart, to take offence, when it might very well be that the +insult existed in her imagination alone. So, with a desperate courage, +she stood her ground. + +"I really don't know what you mean," she said coldly. "But it doesn't +matter; tell me about your racer instead!" + +"Not a bit of it," returned Hyde. "It's one thing at a time with me +always. Besides, why should I bore you to that extent? Why, I'm boring +you already. Isn't that so?" + +He set his hands on the arms of his chair preparatory to rising, as he +spoke; and Hope took a quick step away from him. There was a look in his +eyes that was horrible to her. + +"No," she said, rather breathlessly. "No; I'm not at all bored. Please +don't get up; I'll go and order some refreshment." + +"Nonsense!" he said sharply. "I don't want it. I won't have any! I +mean"--his manner softening abruptly---"not unless you will join me; +which, I fear, is too much to expect. Now don't go away! Come and sit +here!" drawing close to his own the chair on which she had been leaning. +"I want to tell you something. Don't look so scared! It's something +you'll like; it is, really. And you're bound to hear it sooner or later, +so it may as well be now. Why not?" + +But Hope's nerves were stretched to snapping point, and she shrank +visibly. After all, she was very young, and there was that about this +man that terrified her. + +"No," she said hurriedly. "No; I would rather not. There is nothing you +could tell me that I should like to hear. I--I am going to the gate to +look for Ronnie." + +It was childish, it was pitiable; and had the man been other than a +coward it must have moved him to compassion. As it was he sprang up +suddenly, as though to detain her, and Hope's last shred of self-control +deserted her. + +She uttered a smothered cry and fled. + + + + +III + +THE FRIEND IN NEED + +The road that led to the cantonments was ill-made and stony, but she +dashed along it like a mad creature, unconscious of everything save the +one absorbing desire to escape. Ronnie was not in sight, but she +scarcely thought of him. The light was failing fast, and she knew that +it would soon be quite dark, save for a white streak of moon overhead. +It was still frightfully hot. The atmosphere oppressed her like a leaden +weight. It seemed to keep her back, and she battled with it as with +something tangible. Her feet were clad in thin slippers, and at any +other time she would have known that the rough stones cut and hurt her. +But in the terror of the moment she felt no pain. She only had the sense +to run straight on, with gasping breath and failing limbs, till at last, +quite suddenly, her strength gave out and she sank, an exhausted, +sobbing heap, upon the roadway. + +There came the tread of a horse's hoofs, and she started and made a +convulsive effort to crawl to one side. She was nearer fainting than she +had ever been in her life. + +Then the hoof-beats stopped, and she uttered a gasping cry, all her +nameless terror for the moment renewed. + +A man jumped to the ground and, with a word to his animal, stooped over +her. She shrank from him in unreasoning panic. + +"Who is it? Who is it?" she sobbed. He answered her instantly, rather +curtly. + +"I--Baring. What's the matter? Something gone wrong?" + +She felt strong hands lifting her, and she yielded herself to them, her +panic quenched. + +"Oh, Major Baring!" she said faintly. "I didn't know you!" + +Major Baring made no response. He held her on her feet facing him, for +she seemed unable to stand, and waited for her to recover herself. She +trembled violently between his hands, but she made a resolute effort +after self-control. + +"I--I didn't know you," she faltered again. + +"What's the matter?" asked Major Baring. + +But she could not tell him. Already the suspicion that she had behaved +unreasonably was beginning to take possession of her. Yet--yet--Hyde +must have seen she was alarmed. He might have reassured her. She +recalled the look in his eyes, and shuddered. She was sure he had been +drinking. She had heard someone say that he did drink. + +"I--I have had a fright," she said at last. "It was very foolish of me, +of course. Very likely it was a false alarm. Anyhow, I am better now. +Thank you." + +He let her go, but she was still so shaken that she tottered and +clutched his arm. + +"Really I am all right," she assured him tremulously. "It is +only--only--" + +He put his arm around her without comment; and again she yielded as a +child might have yielded to the comfort of his support. + +After some seconds he spoke, and she fancied his voice sounded rather +grim. + +"I am going your way," he said. "I will walk back with you." + +Hope was crying to herself in the darkness, but she hoped he did not +notice. + +"I think I shall go and meet Ronnie," she said. "I don't want to go +back. It--it's so lonely." + +"I will come in with you," he returned. + +"Oh, no!" she said quickly. "No! I mean--I mean--I don't want you to +trouble any more about me. Indeed, I shall be all right." + +He received the assurance in silence; and she began to wonder dolefully +if she had offended him. Then, with abrupt kindliness, he set her mind +at rest. + +"Dry your eyes," he said, "and leave off crying, like a good child! +Ronnie's at the club, and won't be home at present. I didn't know you +were all alone, or I would have brought him along with me. That's +better. Now, shall we make a move?" + +He slung his horse's bridle on his arm and, still supporting her with +the other, began to walk down the stony road. Hope made no further +protest. She had always considered Ronnie's major a rather formidable +person. She knew that Ronnie stood in awe of him, though she had always +found him kind. + +They had not gone five yards when he stopped. + +"You are limping. What is it?" + +She murmured something about the stones. + +"You had better ride," he decided briefly. "Rupert will carry you like a +lamb. Ready? How's that?" + +He lifted her up into the saddle as if she had been a child, and stooped +to arrange her foot in the strap of the stirrup. + +"Good heavens!" she heard him murmur, as he touched her shoe. "No wonder +the stones seemed hard! Quite comfortable?" he asked her, as he +straightened himself. + +"Quite," she answered meekly. + +And he marched on, leading the horse with care. + +At the gate of the shadowy little compound that surrounded the bungalow +she had quitted so precipitately he paused. + +"I will leave the animal here," he said, holding up his hands to her. + +She slipped into them submissively. + +The cry of a jackal somewhere beyond the native village made her start +and tremble. Her nerves were still on edge. + +Major Baring slipped the bridle over the gate-post and took her hand in +his. The grip of his fingers was very strong and reassuring. + +"Come," he said kindly, "let us go and look for this bogey of yours!" + +But at this point Hope realized fully that she had made herself +ridiculous, and that for the sake of her future self-respect she must by +some means restrain him from putting his purpose into execution. She +stood still and faced him. + +"Major Baring," she said, her voice quivering in spite of her utmost +effort, "I want you--please--not to come any farther. I know I have been +very foolish. I am sure of it now. And--please--do you mind going away, +and not thinking any more about it?" + +"Yes, I do," said Major Baring. + +He spoke with unmistakable decision, and the girl's heart sank. + +"Listen!" he said quietly. "Like you, I think you have probably been +unnecessarily alarmed. But, even so, I am coming with you to satisfy +myself. Or--if you prefer--I will go alone, and you can wait for me +here." + +"Oh, no!" said Hope quickly. "If--if you must go, I'll come, too. But +first, will you promise--whatever happens--not to--to laugh at me?" + +Baring made an abrupt movement that she was at a loss to interpret. It +was too dark for her to see his face with any distinctness. + +"Very well," he said. "Yes; I promise that." + +Hope was still almost crying. She felt horribly ashamed. With her hand +in his, she went beside him up the short drive to the bungalow. And, as +she went, she vehemently wished that the earth would open and swallow +her up. + + + + +IV + +HER NATURAL PROTECTOR + + +They ascended to the veranda still hand-in-hand. It was deserted. + +Baring led her straight along it till he came to the two chairs outside +the drawing-room window. They were empty. A servant had just lighted a +lamp in the room behind them. + +"Go in!" said Baring. "I will come back to you." + +She obeyed him. She felt incapable of resistance just then. He passed on +quietly, and she stood inside the room, waiting and listening with +hushed breath and hands tightly clenched. + +The seconds crawled by, and again there came to her straining ears the +cry of a jackal from far away. Then at last she caught the sound of +Baring's voice, curt and peremptory, and her heart stood still. But he +was only speaking to the _punkah-coolie_ round the corner, for almost +instantly the great fan above her head began to move. + +A few seconds more, and he reappeared at the window alone. Hope drew a +great breath of relief and awoke to the fact that she was trembling +violently. + +She looked at him as he came quietly in. His lean, bronzed face, with +the purple scar of a sword-cut down one cheek, told her nothing. Only +she fancied that his mouth, under its narrow, black line of moustache, +looked stern. + +He went straight up to her and laid his hand on her shoulder. + +"Tell me what frightened you!" he said, looking down at her with keen +blue eyes that shone piercingly in his dark face. + +She shook her head instantly, unable to meet his look. + +"Please," she said beseechingly, "please don't ask me! I would so much +rather not." + +"I have promised not to laugh at you," he reminded her gravely. + +"I know," she said. "I know. But really, really, I can't. It was so +silly of me to be frightened. I am not generally silly like that. +But--somehow--to-day--" + +Her voice failed her. He took his hand from her shoulder; and she knew +suddenly that, had he chosen, he could have compelled. + +"Don't be distressed!" he said. "Whatever it was, it's gone. Sit down, +won't you?" + +Hope dropped rather limply into a chair. The security of Baring's +protecting presence was infinitely comforting, but her fright and +subsequent exertion had made her feel very weak. Baring went to the +window and stood there for some seconds, with his back to her. She noted +his height and breadth of shoulder with a faint sense of pleasure. She +had always admired this man. Secretly--his habitual kindness to her +notwithstanding--she was also a little afraid of him, but her fear did +not trouble her just then. + +He turned quietly at length and seated himself near the window. + +"How long does your uncle expect to be away?" he asked. + +She shook her head. + +"I never know; he may come back to-morrow, or perhaps not for days." + +Baring's black brows drew together. + +"Where is he?" he asked. She shook her head again. + +He said nothing; but his silence was so condemnatory that she felt +herself called upon to defend the absent one. + +"You see, he came here in the first place because I begged so very hard. +And he has to travel because of his book. I always knew that, so I +really can't complain. Besides, I'm not generally lonely, and hardly +ever nervous. And I have Ronnie." + +"Ronnie!" said Baring; and for the first time he looked contemptuous. + +Hope sighed. + +"It's quite my own fault," she said humbly. "If I hadn't--" + +"Pardon me! It is not your fault," he interrupted grimly. "It is +iniquitous that a girl like you should be left in such a place as this +entirely without protection. Have you a revolver?" + +Hope looked startled. + +"Oh, no!" she said. "If I had, I should never dare to use it, even if I +knew how." + +Baring looked at her, still frowning. + +"I think you are braver than that," he said. + +Hope flushed vividly, and rose. + +"No," she said, a note of defiance in her voice. "I'm a miserable +coward, Major Baring. But no one knows it but you and, perhaps, one +other. So I hope you won't give me away." + +Baring did not smile. + +"Who else knows it?" he asked. + +Hope met his eyes steadily. She was evidently resolved to be weak no +longer. + +"It doesn't matter, does it?" she said. + +He did not answer her; and again she had a feeling that he was offended. + +There was a considerable pause before he spoke again. He seemed to be +revolving something in his mind. Then at last, abruptly, he began to +talk upon ordinary topics, and at once she felt more at her ease with +him. They sat by the window after that for the best part of an hour; +till, in fact, the return of her brother put an end to their +_tête-à-tête_. + +By those who were least intimate with the Carteret twins it was often +said that in feature they were exactly alike. Those who knew them better +saw no more than a very strong resemblance in form and colouring, but it +went no farther. In expression they differed utterly. The boy's face +lacked the level-browed honesty that was so conspicuous in the girl's. +His mouth was irresolute. His eyes were uncertain. Yet he was a +good-looking boy, notwithstanding these defects. He had a pleasant laugh +and winning manner, and was essentially kind-hearted, if swift to take +offence. + +He came in through the window, walking rather heavily, and halted just +inside the room, blinking, as if the light dazzled him. Baring gave him +a single glance that comprehended him from head to foot, and rose from +his chair. + +Again it seemed to Hope that she saw contempt upon his face; and a rush +of indignation checked the quick words of welcome upon her lips. + +Her brother spoke first, and his words sounded rather slurred, as if he +had been running. + +"Hullo!" he said. "Here you are! Don't get up! I expected to find you!" + +He addressed Baring, who replied instantly, and with extreme emphasis: + +"That I am sure you did not." + +Ronnie started, and put his hand to his eyes as if confused. + +"Beg pardon," he said, a moment later, in an odd tone of shame. "I +thought it was Hyde. The light put me off. It--it's Major Baring, isn't +it?" + +"Yes; Baring." Baring repeated his own name deliberately; and, as by a +single flash of revelation Hope understood the meaning of his contempt. + +She stood as if turned to stone. She had often seen Ronnie curiously +excited, even incoherently so, before that night, but she had never seen +him like this. She had never imagined before for a single instant what +now she abruptly knew without the shadow of a doubt. + +A feeling that was like physical sickness came over her. She looked from +Ronnie to Ronnie's major with a sort of piteous appeal. Baring turned +gravely towards her. + +"You will let me have a word alone with your brother?" he said quietly. +"I was waiting to see him, as you know." + +She felt that he had given her a definite command, and she obeyed it +mutely, almost mechanically. He opened the door for her, and she went +out in utter silence, sick at heart. + + + + +V + +MORE THAN A FRIEND + + +Two days later Hope received an invitation from Mrs. Latimer to join her +at the Hill Station for a few weeks. + +She hesitated, for her brother's sake, to accept it, but he, urged +thereto by some very plain speaking from his major, persuaded her so +strongly that she finally yielded. + +Though she would not have owned it, Hope was, in fact, in sore need of +this change. The heat had told upon her nerves and spirits. She had had +no fever, but she was far from well, as her friend, Mrs. Latimer, +realized as soon as she saw her. + +She at once prescribed complete rest, and the week that followed was to +Hope the laziest and the most peaceful that she had ever known. She was +always happy in Mrs. Latimer's society, and she had no desire just then +for gaiety. The absolute freedom from care acted upon her like a tonic, +and she very quickly began to recover her usual buoyant health. + +The colonel's wife watched her unobserved. She had by her a letter, +written in the plain language of a man who knew no other, and she often +referred to this letter when she was alone; for there seemed to be +something between the lines, notwithstanding its plainness. + +As a result of this suspicion, when Hope rode back in Mrs. Latimer's +_rickshaw_ from an early morning service at the little English church on +the hill, on the second Sunday after her arrival, a big figure, clad in +white linen, rose from a _charpoy_ in Mrs. Latimer's veranda, and +stepped down bareheaded to receive her. + +Hope's face, as she recognized the visitor, flushed so vividly that she +was aware of it, and almost feared to meet his eyes. But he spoke at +once, and thereby set her at her ease. + +"That's much better," he said approvingly, as if he had only parted from +her the day before. "I was afraid you were going on the sick-list, but I +see you have thought better of it. Very wise of you." + +She met his smile with a feeling of glad relief. + +"How is Ronnie?" she said. + +He laughed a little at the hasty question. + +"Ronnie is quite well, and sends his love. He is going to have a five +days' leave next week to come and see you. It would have been this week, +but for me." + +Hope looked up at him enquiringly. + +"You see," he quietly explained, "I was coming myself, and--it will seem +odd to you, of course--I didn't want Ronnie." + +Hope was silent. There was something in his manner that baffled her. + +"Selfish of me, wasn't it?" he said. + +"I don't know," said Hope. + +"It was, I assure you," he returned; "sheer selfishness on my part. Are +we going to breakfast on the veranda? You will have to do the honours, I +know. Mrs. Latimer is still in bed." + +Hope sat down thoughtfully. She had never seen Major Baring in this +light-hearted mood. She would have enjoyed it, but for the thought of +Ronnie. + +"Wasn't he disappointed?" she asked presently. + +"Horribly," said Baring. "He turned quite green when he heard. I don't +think I had better tell you what he said." + +He was watching her quietly across the table, and she knew it. After a +moment she raised her eyes. + +"Yes; tell me what he said, Major Baring!" she said. + +"Not yet," said Baring. "I am waiting to hear you tell me that you are +even more bitterly disappointed than he was." + +"I don't see how I can tell you that," said Hope, turning her attention +to the coffee-urn. + +"No? Why not?" + +"Because it wouldn't be very friendly," she answered gravely. + +"Do you know, I almost dared to fancy it was because it wouldn't be +true?" said Baring. + +She glanced up at that, and their eyes met. Though he was smiling a +little, there was no mistaking the message his held for her. She +coloured again very deeply, and bent her head to hide it. + +He did not keep her waiting. Very quietly, very resolutely, he leaned +towards her across the table, and spoke. + +"I will tell you now what your brother said to me, Hope," he said, his +voice half-quizzical, half-tender. "He's an impertinent young rascal, +but I bore with him for your sake, dear. He said: 'Go in and win, old +fellow, and I'll give you my blessing!' Generous of him, wasn't it? But +the question is, have I won?" + +Yet she could not speak. Only as he stretched out his hands to her, she +laid her own within them without an instant's hesitation, and suffered +them to remain in his close grasp. When he spoke to her again, his voice +was sunk very low. + +"How did I come to propose in this idiotic fashion across the +breakfast-table?" he said. "Never mind, it's done now--or nearly done. +You mustn't tremble, dear. I have been rather sudden, I know. I should +have waited longer; but, under the circumstances, it seemed better to +speak at once. But there is nothing to frighten you. Just look me in the +face and tell me, may I be more than a friend to you? Will you have me +for a husband?" Hope raised her eyes obediently, with a sudden sense of +confidence unutterable. They were full of the quick tears of joy. + +"Of course!" she said instantly. "Of course!" She blushed again +afterwards, when she recalled her prompt, and even rapturous, answer to +his question. But, at the time, it was the most natural and spontaneous +thing in the world. It was not in her at that moment to have answered +him otherwise. And Baring knew it, understanding so perfectly that no +other word was necessary on either side. He only bent his head, and held +her two hands very closely to his lips before he gently let them go. It +was his sole reply to her glad response. Yet she felt as if there was +something solemn in his action; almost as if thereby he registered a +vow. + + + + +VI + +HER ENEMY + + +Notwithstanding her determination to return to Ghantala after the +breaking of the monsoon. Hope stayed on at the Hill Station with Mrs. +Latimer till the rains were nearly over. She had wished to return, but +her hostess, her _fiancé_, and her brother were all united in the +resolve to keep her where she was. So insistent were they that they +prevailed at length. It had been a particularly bad season at Ghantala, +and sickness was rife there. + +Baring even went so far as positively to forbid her to return till this +should have abated. + +"You will have to obey me when we are married, you know," he grimly told +her. "So you may as well begin at once." + +And Hope obeyed him. There was something about this man that compelled +her obedience. Her secret fear of him had not wholly disappeared. There +were times when the thought that she might one day incur his displeasure +made her uneasy. His strength awed even while it thrilled her. Behind +his utmost tenderness she felt his mastery. + +And so she yielded, and remained at the Hill Station till Mrs. Latimer +herself returned to Ghantala in October. She and Ronnie had not been +together for nearly six weeks, and the separation seemed to her like as +many months. He was at the station to meet them, and the moment she saw +him she was conscious of a shock. She had never before seen him look so +hollow-eyed and thin. + +He greeted her, however, with a gaiety that, in some degree, reassured +her. He seemed delighted to have her with him again, was full of the +news and gossip of the station, and chattered like a schoolboy +throughout the drive to their bungalow. + +Her uncle came out of his room to welcome her, and then burrowed back +again, and remained invisible for the rest of the evening. But Hope did +not want him. She wanted no one but Ronnie just then. + +The night was chilly, and they had a fire. Hope lay on a sofa before it, +and Ronnie sat and smoked. Both were luxuriously comfortable till a hand +rapped smartly upon the window and made them jump. + +Ronnie exclaimed with a violence that astonished Hope, and started to +his feet. She also sprang up eagerly, almost expecting to see her +_fiancé_. But her expectations were quickly dashed. + +"It's that fellow Hyde!" Ronnie said, looking at her rather doubtfully. +"You don't mind?" + +Her face fell, but he did not wait for her reply. He stepped across to +the window, and admitted the visitor. + +Hyde sauntered in with a casual air. + +He came across to her, smiling in the way she loathed, and almost before +she realized it he had her hand in a tight, impressive grip, and his +pale eyes were gazing full into hers. + +"You look as fresh as an English rose," was his deliberate greeting. + +Hope freed her hand with a slight, involuntary gesture of disgust. Till +the moment of seeing him again she had almost forgotten how utterly +objectionable he was. + +"I am quite well," she said coldly. "I think I shall go to bed, Ronnie. +I'm tired." + +Ronnie was pouring some whisky into a glass. She noticed that his hand +was very shaky. + +"All right," he said, not looking at her. + +"You're not going to desert us already?" said Hyde; still, as she felt, +mocking her with his smile. "It will be dark, indeed, when Hope is +withdrawn." + +He went to the door, but paused with his hand upon it. She looked at him +with the wild shrinking of a trapped creature in her eyes. + +"Never mind," he laughed softly; "I am very tenacious. Even now--you +will scarcely believe it--I still have--Hope!" + +He opened the door with the words, and, as she passed through in +unbroken silence, her face as white as marble, there was something in +his words, something of self-assured power, almost of menace, that +struck upon her like a breath of evil. She would have stayed and defied +him had she dared. But somehow, inexplicably, she was afraid. + + + + +VII + +THE SCRAPE + + +Very late that night there came a low knock at Hope's door. She was +lying awake, and she instantly started up on her elbow. + +"Who is it?" she called. + +The door opened softly, and Ronnie answered her. + +"I thought you would like to say good-night, Hope," he said. + +"Oh, come in, dear!" Hope sat up eagerly. She had not expected this +attention from Ronnie. "I'm wide awake. I'm so glad you came!" + +He slipped into the room, and, reaching her, bent to kiss her; then, as +she clung closely to him, he sat down on the edge of her bed. + +"I'm sorry Hyde annoyed you," he said. + +She leaned her head against him, and was silent. + +"It'll be a good thing for you when you're married," Ronnie went on +presently. "Baring will take better care of you than I do." + +Something in his tone went straight to her heart. Her clinging arms +tightened, but still she was silent. For what he said was unanswerable. + +When he spoke again, she felt it was with an effort. + +"Baring came round to-night to see you. I went out and spoke to him. I +told him you had gone to bed, and so he didn't come in. I was glad he +didn't. Hyde was there, and they don't hit it particularly well. In +fact--" he hesitated. "I would rather he didn't know Hyde was here. +Baring's a good chap--the best in the world. He's done no end for me; +more than I can ever tell you. But he's awfully hard in some ways. I +can't tell him everything. He doesn't always understand." + +Again there sounded in his voice that faint, wistful note that so smote +upon Hope's heart. She drew nearer to him, her cheek against his +shoulder. + +"Oh, Ronnie," she said, and her voice quivered passionately, "never +think that of me, dear! Never think that I can't understand!" + +He kissed her forehead. + +"Bless you, old girl!" he whispered huskily. + +"My marriage will make no difference--no difference," she insisted. "You +and I will still be to each other what we have always been. There will +be the same trust between us, the same confidence. Rather than lose +that, I will never marry at all!" + +She spoke with vehemence, but Ronnie was not carried away by it. + +"Baring will have the right to know all your secrets," he said gloomily. + +"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Hope impulsively. "He would never expect that. +He knows that we are twins, and there is no tie in the world that is +quite like that." + +Ronnie was silent, but she felt that it was not the silence of +acquiescence. She took him by the shoulders and made him face her. + +"Ronnie," she said very earnestly, "if you will only tell me things, and +let me help you where I can, I swear to you--I swear to you most +solemnly--that I will never betray your confidence to Monty, or to any +one else: I know that he would never ask it of me; but even if he +did--even if he did--I would not do it." She spoke so steadfastly, so +loyally, that he was strongly moved. He thrust his arm boyishly round +her. + +"All right, dear old girl, I trust you," he said. "I'll tell you all +about it. As I see you have guessed, there is a bit of a scrape; but it +will be all right in two or three weeks. I've been a fool, and got into +debt again. Baring helped me out once. That's partly why I'm so +particularly anxious that he shouldn't get wind of it this time. Fact +is, I'm very much in Hyde's power for the time being. But, as I say, it +will be all right before long. I've promised to ride his Waler for the +Ghantala Valley Cup next month. It's a pretty safe thing, and if I pull +it off, as I intend to do, everything will be cleared, and I shall be +out of his hands. It's a sort of debt of honour, you see. I can't get +out of it, but I shall be jolly glad when it's over. We'll chuck him +then, if he isn't civil. But till then I'm more or less helpless. So +you'll do your best to tolerate him for my sake, won't you?" + +A great sigh rose from Hope's heart, but she stifled it. Hyde's attitude +of insolent power was explained to her, and she would have given all she +had at that moment to have been free to seek Baring's advice. + +"I'll try, dear," she said. "But I think the less I see of him the +better it will be. Are you quite sure of winning the Cup?" + +"Oh, quite," said Ronnie, with confidence. "Quite. Do you remember the +races we used to have when we were kids? We rode barebacked in those +days. You could stick on anything. Remember?" + +Yes, Hope remembered; and a sudden, almost fierce regret surged up +within her. + +"Oh, Ronnie," she said, "I wish we were kids still!" + +He laughed at her softly, and rose. + +"I know better," he said; "and so does Baring. Good-night, old girl! +Sleep well!" + +And with that he left her. But Hope scarcely slept till break of day. + + + + +VIII + +BEFORE THE RACE + + +Hope had arranged to go to the races with Mrs. Latimer after previously +lunching with her. + +When the day arrived she spent the morning working on the veranda in the +sunshine. It was a perfect day of Indian winter, and under its influence +she gradually forgot her anxieties, and fell to dreaming while she +worked. + +Down below the compound she heard the stream running swiftly between its +banks, with a bubbling murmur like half-suppressed laughter. It was +fuller than she had ever known it. The rains had swelled the river +higher up the valley, and they had opened the sluice-gates to relieve +the pressure upon the dam that had been built there after the disastrous +flood that had drowned the English girl years before. + +Hope loved to hear that soft chuckling between the reeds. It made her +think of an English springtime. The joy of spring was in her veins. She +turned her face to the sunshine with a smile of purest happiness. Only +two months more to the zenith of her happiness! + +There came the sound of a step on the veranda--a stumbling, uncertain +step. She turned swiftly in her chair, and sprang up. Ronnie had +returned to prepare for the race, and she had not heard him. She had not +seen him before that day, and she felt a momentary compunction as she +moved to greet him. And then--her heart stood still. + +He was standing a few paces away, supporting himself against a pillar of +the veranda. His eyes were fixed and heavy, like the eyes of a man +walking in his sleep. He stared at her dully, as if he were looking at a +complete stranger. + +Hope stopped short, gazing at him in speechless consternation. + +After several moments he spoke thickly, scarcely intelligibly. + +"I can't race to-day," he said. "Not well enough. Hyde must find a +substitute." + +He could hardly articulate the last word, but Hope caught his meaning. +The whole miserable tragedy was written up before her in plain, +unmistakable characters. + +But almost as quickly as she perceived it came the thought that no one +else must know. Something must be done, even though it was at the +eleventh hour. + +Her first instinct was to send for Baring, but she thrust it from her. +No! She must find another way. There must be a way out if she were only +quick enough to see it--some way by which she could cover up his +disgrace so that none should know of it. There was a way--surely there +was a way! Ronnie's dull stare became intolerable. She went to him, +bravely, steadfastly. + +"Go and lie down!" she said. "I will see about it for you." + +Something in her own words sent a sudden flash through her brain. She +caught her breath, and her face turned very white. But her steadfastness +did not forsake her. She took Ronnie by the arm and guided him to his +room. + + + + +IX + +THE RACE + + +"Such a pity. Hope can't come!" + +Mrs. Latimer addressed Baring, who had just approached her across the +racecourse. The sun was shining brilliantly, and the scene was very +gay. + +Baring, who had drawn near with a certain eagerness, seemed to stiffen +at her words. + +"Can't come!" he echoed. "Why not?" + +Mrs. Latimer handed him a note. + +"She sent this round half an hour ago." + +Baring read the note with bent brows. It merely stated that the writer +had been working all the morning and was a little tired. Would Mrs. +Latimer kindly understand and excuse her? + +He handed it back without comment. + +"Where is young Carteret?" he asked. "Have you seen him yet?" + +"No," she answered. "Somebody was saying he was late. Ah! There he is, +surely--just going into the weighing-tent. What a superb horse that is +of Mr. Hyde's! Do you think he will win the Cup?" + +Baring thought it likely, but he said it with so preoccupied an air that +Mrs. Latimer smiled, and considerately refrained from detaining him. + +She watched him walk down towards the weighing-tent; but before he +reached it, she saw the figure of young Carteret issue forth at the +farther end, and start off at a run with his saddle on his shoulder +towards the enclosure where the racers were waiting. He was late, and +she thought he looked flurried. + +A few minutes later Baring returned to her. + +"The boy is behindhand, as usual," he remarked. "I didn't get near him. +Time is just up. I hear the Rajah thinks very highly of Hyde's Waler." + +Mrs. Latimer looked across at the Indian Prince who was presenting the +Cup. He was seated in the midst of a glittering crowd of natives and +British officers. She saw that he was closely scanning the restless line +of horses at the starting-point. + +Through her glasses she sought the big black Waler. He was foaming and +stamping uneasily, and she saw that his rider's face was deadly pale. + +"I don't believe Ronnie can be well," she said. "He looks so nervous." + +Baring grunted in a dissatisfied note, but said nothing. + +Another two minutes, and the signal was given. There were ten horses in +the race. It was a fair start, and the excitement in the watching crowd +became at once intense. + +Baring remained at Mrs. Latimer's side. She was on her feet, and +scarcely breathing. The black horse stretched himself out like a +greyhound, galloping splendidly over the shining green of the course. +His rider, crouched low in the saddle, looked as if at any instant he +might be hurled to the earth. + +Baring watched him critically, his jaw set and grim. Obviously, the boy +was not himself, and he fancied he knew the reason. + +"If he pulls it off, it'll be the biggest fluke of his life," he +muttered. + +"Isn't it queer?" whispered Mrs. Latimer. "I never saw young Carteret +ride like that before." + +Baring was silent. He began to think he understood Hope's failure to put +in an appearance. + +Gradually the black Waler drew away from all but two others, who hotly +contested the leadership. He was running superbly, though he apparently +received but small encouragement from his rider. + +As they drew round the curve at the further end of the course, he was +galloping next to the rails. As they finally turned into the straight +run home, he was leading. + +But the horse next to him, urged by his rider, who was also his owner, +made so strenuous an effort that it became obvious to all that he was +gaining upon the Waler. + +A great yell went up of "Carteret! Carteret! Wake up, Carteret! Don't +give it away!" And the Waler's rider, as if startled by the cry, +suddenly and convulsively slashed the animal's withers. + +Through a great tumult of shouting the two horses dashed past the +winning-post. It seemed a dead heat; but, immediately after, the news +spread that Hyde's horse was the winner. The Waler had gained his +victory by a neck. + +Hyde was leading his horse round to the Rajah's stand. His jockey, +looking white and exhausted, sat so loosely in the saddle that he seemed +to sway with the animal's movements. He did not appear to hear the +cheering around him. + +Baring took up his stand near the weighing-tent, and, a few minutes +later, Hyde and his jockey came up together. The boy's cap was dragged +down over his eyes, and he looked neither to right nor left. + +Hyde, perceiving Baring, pushed forward abruptly. + +"I want a word with you," he said. "I've been trying to catch you for +some days past. But first, what did you think of the race?" He coolly +fastened on to Baring's elbow, and the latter had to pause. Hyde's +companion passed swiftly on; and Hyde, seeing the look on Baring's face, +began to laugh. + +"It's all right; you needn't look so starched. The little beggar's been +starving himself for the occasion, and overdone it. He'll pull round +with a little feeding up. Tell me what you thought of the race! Splendid +chap, that animal of mine, eh?" + +He kept Baring talking for several minutes; and, when they finally +parted, his opportunity had gone. + +Baring went into the weighing-tent, but Ronnie was nowhere to be seen. +And he wondered rather grimly as he walked away if Hyde had detained him +purposely to give the boy a chance to escape. + + + + +X + +THE ENEMY'S TERMS + + +It was nearly dark that evening when Hope stood again on the veranda of +the Magician's, bungalow, and listened to the water running through the +reeds. She thought it sounded louder than in the morning--- more +insistent, less mirthful. She shivered a little as she stood there. She +felt lonely; her uncle was away for a couple of days, and Ronnie was in +his room. She was bracing herself to go and rouse him to dress for mess. +Slowly, at last, she turned to go. But at the same instant a voice +called to her from below, and she stopped short. + +"Ah, don't run away!" it said. "I've come on purpose to see you--on a +matter of importance." + +Reluctantly Hope waited. She knew the voice well, and it made her quiver +in every nerve with the instinct of flight. Yet she summoned all her +resolution and stood still, while Hyde calmly mounted the veranda steps +and approached her. He was in riding-dress, and he carried a crop, +walking with all the swaggering insolence that she loathed. + +"There's something I want to say to you," he said. "I can come in, I +suppose? It won't take me long." + +He took her permission for granted, and turned into the drawing-room. +Hope followed him in silence. She could not pretend to this man that his +presence was a pleasure to her. She hated him, and deep in her heart she +feared him as she feared no one else in the world. + +He looked at her with eyes of cynical criticism by the light of the +shaded lamp. She felt that there was something worse than insolence +about him that night--something of cruelty, of brutality even, from +which she was powerless to escape. + +"Come!" he said, as she did not speak. "Doesn't it occur to you that I +have been a particularly good friend to you to-day?" + +Hope faced him steadily. Twice before she had evaded this man, but she +knew that to-night evasion was out of the question. She must confront +him without panic, and alone. + +"I think you must tell me what you mean," she said, her voice very low. + +He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, and then laughed at her--his +abominable, mocking laugh. + +"I have noticed before," he said, "that when a woman finds herself in a +tight corner, she invariably tries to divert attention by asking +unnecessary questions. It's a harmless little stratagem that may serve +her turn. But in this case, let me assure you, it is sheer waste of +time. I hold you--and your brother, also--in the hollow of my hand. And +you know it." + +He spoke slowly, with a confidence from which there was no escape. His +eyes still closely watched her face. And Hope felt again that wild +terror, which only he had ever inspired in her, knocking at her heart. + +She did not ask him a second time what he meant. He had made her realize +the utter futility of prevarication. Instead, she forced herself to +meet his look boldly, and grapple with him with all her desperate +courage. + +"My brother owed you a debt of honour," she said; "and it has been paid. +What more do you want?" + +A glitter of admiration shone for a moment through his cynicism. This +was better than meek surrender. A woman who fought was worth conquering. + +"You are not going to acknowledge, then," he said, "that you--you +personally--are in any way indebted to me?" + +"Certainly not!" The girl's eyes did not flinch before his. Save that +she was trembling, he would scarcely have detected her fear. "You have +done nothing for me," she said. "You only served your own purpose." + +"Oh, indeed!" said Hyde softly. "So that is how you look at it, is it?" + +He moved, and went close to her. Still she did not shrink. She was +fighting desperately--desperately--a losing battle. + +"Well," he said, after a moment, in which she withstood him silently +with all her strength, "in one sense that is true. I did serve my own +purpose. But have you, I wonder, any idea what that purpose of mine +was?" + +He waited, but she did not answer him. She was nearly at the end of her +strength. Hyde did not offer to touch her. He only smiled a little at +the rising panic in her white face. + +"Do you know what I am going to do now?" he said. "I am going to +mess--it's a guest night--and they will drink my health as the winner of +the Ghantala Cup. And then I shall propose someone else's health. Can +you guess whose?" + +She shrank then, shrank perceptibly, painfully, as the victim must +shrink, despite all his resolution, from the hot iron of the torturer. + +Hyde stood for a second longer, watching her. Then he turned. There was +fiendish triumph in his eyes. + +"Good-bye!" he said. + +She caught her breath sharply, spasmodically, as one who suppresses a +cry of pain. And then, before he reached the window, she spoke: + +"Please wait!" + +He turned instantly, and came back to her. + +"Come!" he said. "You are going to be reasonable after all." + +"What is it that you want?" Her desperation sounded in her voice. She +looked at him with eyes of wild appeal. Her defiance was all gone. The +smile went out of Hyde's face, and suddenly she saw the primitive savage +in possession. She had seen it before, but till that moment she had +never realized quite what it was. + +"What do I want?" he said. "I want you, and you know it. That fellow +Baring is not the man for you. You are going to give him up. Do you +hear? Or else--if you prefer it--he will give you up. I don't care which +it is, but one or the other it shall be. Now do we understand one +another?" + +Hope stared at him, speechless, horror-stricken, helpless! + +He came nearer to her, but she did not recoil, for as a serpent holds +its prey, so he held her. She wanted to protest, to resist him fiercely, +but she was mute. Even the power to flee was taken from her. She could +only stand as if chained to the ground, stiff and paralyzed, awaiting +his pleasure. No nightmare terror had ever so obsessed her. The agony of +it was like a searing flame. + +And Hyde, seeing her anguished helplessness, came nearer still with a +sort of exultant deliberation, and put his arm about her as she stood. + +"I thought I should win the trick," he said, with a laugh that seemed to +turn her to ice. "Didn't I tell you weeks ago that I had--Hope?" + +She did not attempt to answer or to resist. Her lips were quite +bloodless. A surging darkness was about her, but yet she remained +conscious--vividly horribly conscious--of the trap that had so suddenly +closed upon her. Through it she saw his face close to her own, with that +sneering, devilish smile about his mouth that she knew so well. And the +eyes with their glittering savagery were mocking her--mocking her. + +Another instant and his lips would have pressed her own. He held her +fast, so fast that she felt almost suffocated. It was the most hideous +moment of her life. And still she could neither move nor protest. It +seemed as if, body and soul, she was his prisoner. + +But suddenly, unexpectedly, he paused. His arms slackened and fell +abruptly from her; so abruptly that she tottered, feeling vaguely for +support. She saw his face change as he turned sharply away. And +instinctively, notwithstanding the darkness that blinded her, she knew +the cause. She put her hand over her eyes and strove to recover herself. + + + + +XI + +WITHOUT DEFENCE + + +When Hope looked up, the silence had become unbearable. She saw Baring +standing quite motionless near the window by which he had entered. He +was not looking at her, and she felt suddenly, crushingly, that she had +become less than nothing in his sight, not so much as a thing, to be +ignored. + +Hyde, quite calm and self-possessed, still stood close to her. But he +had turned his back upon her to face the intruder. And she felt herself +to be curiously apart from them both, almost like a spectator at a play. + +It was Hyde who at last broke the silence when it had begun to torture +her nerves beyond endurance. + +"Perhaps this _rencontre_ is not as unfortunate as it looks at first +sight," he remarked complacently. "It will save me the trouble of +seeking an interview with you to explain what you are now in a position +to see for yourself. I believe a second choice is considered a woman's +privilege. Miss Carteret, as you observe, has just availed herself of +this. And I am afraid that in consequence you will have to abdicate in +my favour." + +Baring heard him out in complete silence. As Hyde ended, he moved +quietly forward into the room. Hope felt him drawing nearer, but she +could not face him. His very quietness was terrible to her, and she was +desperately conscious that she had no weapon of defence. + +She had not thought that he would so much as notice her, but she was +wrong. He passed by Hyde without a glance, and reached her. + +"What am I to understand?" he said. + +She started violently at the sound of his voice. She knew that Hyde had +turned towards her again, but she looked at neither of them. She was +trembling so that she could scarcely stand. Her very lips felt cold, and +she could not utter a word. + +After a brief pause Baring spoke again: "Can't you answer me?" + +There was no anger in his voice, but there was also no kindness. She +knew that he was watching her with a piercing scrutiny, and she dared +not raise her eyes. She shook her head at last, as he waited for her +reply. + +"Are you willing for me to take an explanation from Mr. Hyde?" he +asked; and his tone rang suddenly hard. "Has he the right to explain?" + +"Of course I have the right," said Hyde easily. + +"Tell him so, Hope!" + +Baring bent towards the girl. + +"If he has the right," he said, his voice quiet but very insistent, +"look me in the face--and tell me so!" + +She made a convulsive effort and looked up at him. + +"Yes," she said in a whisper. "He has the right." + +Baring straightened himself abruptly, almost as if he had received a +blow in the face. + +He stood for a second silent. Then: + +"Where is your brother?" he asked. + +Hope hesitated, and at once Hyde answered for her. + +"He isn't back yet. He stopped at the club." + +"That," said Baring sternly, "is a lie." + +He laid his hand suddenly upon Hope's shoulder. + +"Surely you can tell me the truth at least!" he said. + +Something in his tone pierced the wild panic at her heart. She looked up +at him again, meeting the mastery of his eyes. + +"He is in his room," she said. "Mr. Hyde didn't know." + +Hyde laughed, and at the sound the hand on Hope's shoulder closed like a +vice, till she bit her lip with the effort to endure the pain. Baring +saw it, and instantly set her free. + +"Go to your brother," he said, "and ask him to come and speak to me!" + +The authority in his voice was not to be gainsaid. She threw an +imploring look at Hyde, and went. She fled like a wild creature along +the veranda to her brother's room, and tapped feverishly, frantically at +the window. Then she paused listening intently for a reply. But she +could hear nothing save the loud beating of her heart. It drummed in her +ears like the hoofs of a galloping horse. Desperately she knocked again. + +"Let me in!" she gasped. "Let me in!" + +There came a blundering movement, and the door opened. + +"Hullo!" said Ronnie, in a voice of sleepy irritation. "What's up?" + +She stumbled into the dark room, breathless and sobbing. + +"Oh, Ronnie!" she cried. "Oh, Ronnie; you must help me now!" + +He fastened the door behind her, and as she sank down half-fainting in a +chair, she heard him groping for matches on the dressing-table. + +He struck one, and lighted a lamp. She saw that his hand was very shaky, +but that he managed to control it. His face was pale, and there were +deep shadows under his heavy eyes, but he was himself again, and a +thrill of thankfulness ran through her. There was still a chance, still +a chance! + + + + +XII + +THE PENALTY + + +Five minutes later, or it might have been less, the brother and sister +stepped out on to the veranda to go to the drawing-room. They had to +turn a corner of the bungalow to reach it, and the moment they did so +Hope stopped dead. A man's voice, shouting curses, came from the open +window; and, with it, the sound of struggling and the sound of +blows--blows delivered with the precision and regularity of a +machine--frightful, swinging blows that sounded like revolver shots. + +"What is it?" gasped Hope in terror. "What is it?" But she knew very +well what it was; and Ronnie knew, too. + +"You stay here," he said. "I'll go and stop it." + +"No, no!" she gasped back. "I am coming with you; I must." She slipped +her cold hand into his, and they ran together towards the commotion. + +Reaching the drawing-room window, Ronnie stopped, and put the trembling +girl behind him. But he himself did not enter. He only stood still, with +a cowed look on his face, and waited. In the middle of the room, Baring, +his face set and terrible, stood gripping Hyde by the torn collar of his +coat and thrashing him, deliberately, mercilessly, with his own +riding-whip. How long the punishment had gone on the two at the window +could only guess. But it was evident that Hyde was nearing exhaustion. +His face was purple in patches, and the curses he tried to utter came +maimed and broken and incoherent from his shaking lips. He had almost +ceased to struggle in the unwavering grip that held him; he only moved +convulsively at each succeeding blow. + +"Oh, stop him!" implored Hope, behind her brother. "Stop him!" Then, as +he did not move, she pushed wildly past him into the room. + +Baring saw her, and instantly, almost as if he had been awaiting her, +stayed his hand. He did not speak. He simply took Hyde by the shoulders +and half-carried, half-propelled him to the window, through which he +thrust him. + +He returned empty-handed and closed the window. Ronnie had entered, and +was standing by his sister, who had dropped upon her knees by the sofa +and hidden her face in the cushions, sobbing with a pasionate +abandonment that testified to nerves that had given way utterly at last +beneath a strain too severe to be borne. Baring just glanced at her, +then turned his attention to her brother. + +"I have been doing your work for you," he remarked grimly. "Aren't you +ashamed of yourself?" He put his hand upon Ronnie, and twisted him round +to face the light, looking at him piercingly. "Aren't you ashamed of +yourself?" he repeated. + +Ronnie met his eyes irresolutely for a moment, then looked away towards +Hope. She had become very still, but her face remained hidden. There was +something tense about her attitude. After a moment Ronnie spoke, his +voice very low. + +"I suppose you had a reason for what you have just been doing?" + +"Yes," Baring said sternly, "I had a reason. Do you mean me to +understand that you didn't know that fellow to be a blackguard?" + +Ronnie made no answer. He stood like a beaten dog. + +"If you didn't know it," Baring continued, "I am sorry for your +intelligence. If you did, you deserve the same treatment as he has just +received." + +Hope stirred at the words, stirred and moaned, as if she were in pain; +and again momentarily Baring glanced at her. But his face showed no +softening. + +"I mean what I say," he said, turning inexorably to Ronnie. "I told you +long ago that that man was not fit to associate with your sister. You +must have known it for yourself; yet you continued to bring him to the +house. What I have just done was in her defence. Mark that, for--as you +know--I am not in the habit of acting hastily. But there are some +offences that only a horsewhip can punish." He set the boy free with a +contemptuous gesture, and crossed the room to Hope. "Now I have +something to say to you," he said. + +She started and quivered, but she did not raise her head. Very quietly +he stooped and lifted her up. He saw that she was too upset for the +moment to control herself, and he put her into a chair and waited beside +her. After several seconds she slipped a trembling hand into his, and +spoke. + +"Monty," she said, "I have something to say to you first." + +Her action surprised him. It touched him also, but he did not show it. + +"I am listening," he said gravely. + +She looked up at him and uttered a sharp sigh. Then, with an effort, she +rose and faced him. + +"You are very angry with me," she said. "You are going to--to--give me +up." + +His face hardened. He looked back at her with a sternness that sent the +blood to her heart. He said nothing whatever. She went on with +difficulty. + +"But before you do," she said, "I want to tell you that--that--ever +since you asked me to marry you I have loved you--with my whole heart; +and I have never--in thought or deed--been other than true to my love. I +can't tell you any more than that. It is no good to question me. I may +have done things of which you would strongly disapprove, which you would +even condemn, but my heart has always been true to you--always." + +She stopped. Her lips were quivering painfully. She saw that her words +had not moved him to confidence in her, and it seemed as if the whole +world had suddenly turned dark and empty and cold--a place to wander in, +but never to rest. + +A long silence followed that supreme effort of hers. Baring's +eyes--blue, merciless as steel--were fixed upon her in a gaze that +pierced and hurt her. Yet he forced her to endure it. He held her in +front of him ruthlessly, almost cruelly. + +"So I am not to question you?" he said at last. "You object to that?" + +She winced at his tone. + +"Don't!" she said under her breath. "Don't hurt me more--more than you +need!" + +He was silent again, grimly, interminably silent, it seemed to her. And +all the while she felt him doing battle with her, beating down her +resistance, mastering her, compelling her. + +"Hope!" he said at length. + +She looked up at him. Her knees were shaking under her. Her heart was +beginning to whisper that her strength was nearly spent; that she would +not be able to resist much longer. + +"Tell me," he said very quietly, "this one thing only! What is the hold +that Hyde has over you?" + +She shook her head. + +"That is the one thing--" + +"It is the one thing that I must know," he said sternly. + +She was white to the lips. + +"I can't answer you," she said. + +"You must answer me!" He turned her quivering face up to his own. "Do +you hear me, Hope?" he said. "I insist upon your answering me." + +He still spoke quietly, but she was suddenly aware that he was putting +forth his whole strength. It came upon her like a physical, crushing +weight. It overwhelmed her. She hid her face with an anguished cry. He +had conquered her. + +In another moment she would have yielded. Her opposition was dead. But +abruptly, unexpectedly, there came an interruption. Ronnie, very pale, +and looking desperate, came between them. + +"Look here, sir," he said, "you--you are going too far. I can't have my +sister coerced in this fashion. If she prefers to keep this matter to +herself, she must do so. You can't force her to speak." + +Baring released Hope and turned upon him almost violently, but, seeing +the unusual, if precarious, air of resolution with which Ronnie +confronted him, he checked himself. He walked to the end of the room and +back before he spoke. His features were set like a mask when he +returned. + +"You may be right," he said, "though I think it would have been better +for everyone if you had not interfered. Hope, I am going. If you cannot +bring yourself to tell me the whole truth without reservation, there can +be nothing further between us. I fear that, after all, I spoke too soon. +I can enter upon no compact that is not based upon absolute +confidence." + +He spoke coldly, decidedly, without a trace of feeling; and, having +spoken, he went deliberately to the window. There he stood for a few +seconds with his back turned upon the room; then, as the silence +remained unbroken, he quietly lifted the catch and let himself out. + +In the room he left not a word was spoken for many tragic minutes. + + + + +XIII + +THE CURSE OF THE VALLEY + + +Hope had some difficulty in persuading Ronnie to attend mess that night, +though, as a matter of fact, she was longing for solitude. + +He went at last, and she was glad, for a great restlessness possessed +her to which it was a relief to give way. She wandered about the veranda +in the dark after his departure, trying to realize fully what had +happened. It had all come upon her so suddenly. She had been forced to +act throughout without a moment's pause for thought. Now that it was all +over she wanted to collect herself and face the worst. + +Her engagement was at an end. It was mainly that fact that she wished to +grasp. But somehow she found it very difficult. She had grown into the +habit of regarding herself as belonging exclusively and for all time to +Montagu Baring. + +"He has given me up! He has given me up!" she whispered to herself, as +she paced to and fro along the crazy veranda. She recalled the look his +face had worn, the sternness, the pitilessness of his eyes. She had +always felt at the back of her heart that he had it in him to be hard, +merciless. But she had not really thought that she would ever shrink +beneath the weight of his anger. She had trusted blindly to his love to +spare her. She had imagined herself to be so dear to him that she must +be exempt. Others--it did not surprise her that others feared him. But +she--his promised wife--what could she have to fear? + +She paused at the end of the veranda, looking up. The night was full of +stars, and it was very cold. At the bottom of the compound she heard the +water running swiftly. It did not chuckle any more. It had become a +miniature roar. It almost seemed to threaten her. + +She remembered how she had listened to it in the morning, sitting in the +sunshine, dreaming; and her heart suddenly contracted with a pain +intolerable. Those golden dreams were over for ever. He had given her +up. + +Again her restlessness urged her. Cold as it was, she could not bring +herself to go indoors. She descended into the compound, passed swiftly +through it, and began to climb the rough ground of the hill that rose +behind it above the native village. + +The Magician's bungalow looked very ghostly in the starlight. Presently +she paused, and stood motionless, gazing down at it. She remembered +how, when she and her uncle had first come to it, the native servants +had told them of the curse that had been laid upon it; of the evil +spirits that had dwelt there; of voices that had cried in the night! Was +it true, she wondered vaguely? Was it possible for a place to be cursed? + +A faint breeze ran down the valley, stirring the trees to a furtive +whispering. Again, subconsciously, she was aware of the cold, and moved +to return. At the same moment there came a sound like the report of a +cannon half a mile away, followed by a long roar that was unlike +anything she had ever heard--a sound so appalling, so overwhelming, that +for an instant, seized with a nameless terror, she stood as one turned +to stone. + +And then--before the impulse of flight to the bungalow had reached her +brain--the whole terrible disaster burst upon her. Like a monster of +destruction, that which had been a gurgling stream rose above its banks +in a mighty, brown flood, surged like an inrushing sea over the moonlit +compound, and swept down the valley, turning it into a whirling turmoil +of water. + + + + +XIV + +HOW THE TALE WAS TOLD + + +Ronnie Carteret was the subject of a good deal of chaff that night at +mess. The Rajah was being entertained, and he was the only man who paid +the young officer any compliments on the matter of his achievement on +the racecourse. Everyone else openly declared that the horse, and not +its rider, was the one to be congratulated. + +"Never saw anything so ludicrous in my life," one critic said. "He +looked like a rag doll in the saddle. How he managed to stick on passes +me. Is it the latest from America, Ronnie? Leaves something to be +desired, old chap! I should stick to the old style, if I were you." + +Ronnie had no answer for the comments and advice showered upon him from +all sides. He received them all in silence, sullenly ignoring derisive +questions. + +Hyde was not present, to the surprise of every one. All knew that he had +been invited, and there was some speculation upon his non-appearance. + +Baring was there, quiet and self-contained as usual. No one ever chaffed +Baring. It was generally recognized that he did not provide good sport. +When the toasts were over he left the table. + +It was soon after his departure that a sound like a distant explosion +was heard by those in the messroom, causing some discussion there. + +"It's only some fool letting off fireworks," someone said; and as this +seemed a reasonable explanation, no one troubled to enquire further. And +so fully half an hour passed before the truth was known. + +It was Baring who came in with the news, and none who saw it ever +forgot his face as he threw open the messroom door. It was like the face +of a man suddenly stricken with a mortal hurt. + +"Heavens, man! What's the matter?" the colonel exclaimed, at sight of +him. "You look as if--as if--" + +Baring glanced round till his eyes fell upon Ronnie, and, when he spoke, +he seemed to be addressing him alone. + +"The dam has burst," he said, his words curt, distinct, unfaltering. +"The whole of the lower valley is flooded. The Magician's bungalow has +been swept away!" + +"What?" gasped Ronnie. "What?" + +He sprang to his feet, the awful look in Baring's eyes reflected in his +own, and made a dash for the doorway in which Baring stood. He stumbled +as he reached, it and the latter threw out a supporting arm. + +"It's no use your going," he said, his voice hard and mechanical. +"There's nothing to be done. I've been as near as it is possible to get. +It's nothing but a raging torrent half a mile across." + +He moved straight forward to a chair, and thrust the boy down into it. +There was a terrible stiffness--almost a fixity--about him. He did not +seem conscious of the men that crowded round him. It was not his +habitual reserve that kept him from collapse at that moment; it was +rather a stunned sense of expediency. + +"There's nothing to be done," he repeated. + +He looked down at Ronnie, who was clutching at the table with both +hands, and making ineffectual efforts to speak. + +"Give him some brandy, one of you!" he said. + +Someone held a glass against the boy's chattering teeth. The colonel +poured some spirit into another and gave it to Baring. He took it with a +hand that seemed steady, but the next instant it slipped through his +fingers and smashed on the floor. He turned sharply, not heeding it. +Most of the men in the room were on their way out to view the +catastrophe for themselves. He made as if to follow them; then, as if +struck by a sudden thought, he paused. + +Ronnie, deathly pale, and shaking all over, was fighting his way back to +self-control. Baring moved back to him with less of stiffness and more +of his usual strength of purpose. + +"Do you care to come with me?" he said. + +Ronnie looked up at him. Then, though he still shivered violently, he +got up without speaking; and, in silence, they went away together. + + + + +XV + +THE NIGHT OF DESPAIR + + +Not till more than two hours later did Ronnie break his silence. He +would have tramped the hills all night above the flooded valley, but +Baring would not suffer it. He dragged him almost forcibly away from +the scene of desolation, where the water still flowed strongly, carrying +trees and all manner of wreckage on its course. And, though he was +almost beside himself, the boy yielded at last. For Baring compelled +obedience that night. He took Ronnie back to his own quarters, but on +the threshold Ronnie drew back. + +"I can't come in with you," he said. + +Baring's hand was on his shoulder. + +"You must," he answered quietly. + +"I can't," Ronnie persisted, with an effort. "I can't! I'm a cur; I'm +worse. You wouldn't ask me if you knew." + +Baring paused, then, with a strange, unwonted gentleness, he took the +boy's arm and led him in. "Never mind!" he said. + +Ronnie went with him, but in Baring's room he faced him with the courage +of despair. + +"You'll have to know it," he said jerkily. "It was my doing that +you--and she--parted as you did. She was going to tell you the truth. I +prevented her--for my own sake--not hers. I--I came between you." + +Baring's hand fell, but neither his face nor his tone varied as he made +steady reply. + +"I guessed it might be that--afterwards. I was on my way to tell her so +when the dam went." + +"That isn't all," Ronnie went on feverishly. "I'm worse than that, worse +even than she knew. I engaged to ride Hyde's horse to--to discharge a +debt I owed him. I told her it was a debt of honour. It wasn't. It was +to cover theft. I swindled him once, and he found out. I hated riding +his horse, but it would have meant open disgrace if I hadn't. She knew +it was urgent. And then at the last moment I was thirsty; I overdid it. +No; confound it, I'll tell you the truth! I went home drunk, too drunk +to sit a horse. And so she--she sent me to bed, and went in my place. +That's the thing she wouldn't tell you, the thing Hyde knew. She always +hated the man--always. She only endured him for my sake." He broke off. +Baring was looking at him as if he thought that he were raving. After a +moment Ronnie realized this. "It's the truth," he said. "I've told you +the truth. I never won the cup. I didn't know anything more about it +till it was over and she told me. I don't wonder you find it hard to +believe. But I swear it's the truth. Now let me go--and shoot myself!" + +He flung round distractedly, but Baring stopped him. There was no longer +any hardness about him, only compassionate kindness, as he made him sit +down, and gravely shut the door. When he spoke, it was not to utter a +word of reproach or blame. + +"No, don't go, boy!" he said, in a tone that Ronnie never forgot. "We'll +face this thing together. May God help us both!" + +And Ronnie, yielding once more, leaned his head in his hands, and burst +into anguished tears. + + + + +XVI + +THE COMING OF HOPE + + +How they got through the dragging hours of that awful night neither of +them afterwards quite knew. They spoke very little, and slept not at +all. When morning came at last they were still sitting in silence as if +they watched the dead, linked together as brothers by a bond that was +sacred. + +It was soon after sunrise that a message came for Ronnie from the +colonel's bungalow next door to the effect that the commanding-officer +wished to see him. He looked at Baring as he received it. + +"I wish you'd come with me," he said. + +Baring rose at once. He knew that the boy was depending very largely +upon his support just then. The sunshine seemed to mock them as they +went. It was a day of glorious Indian winter, than which there is +nothing more exquisite on earth, save one of English spring. The colonel +met them on his own veranda. He noted Ronnie's haggard face with a quick +glance of pity. + +"I sent for you, my lad," he said, "because I have just heard a piece of +news that I thought I ought to pass on at once." + +"News, sir?" Ronnie echoed the word sharply. + +"Yes; news of your sister." The colonel gave him a keen look, then went +on in a tone of reassuring kindness that both his listeners found +maddeningly deliberate. "She was not, it seems, in the bungalow at the +time the dam burst. She was out on the hillside, and so--My dear fellow, +for Heaven's sake pull yourself together! Things are better than you +think. She--" He did not finish, for Ronnie suddenly sprang past him +with a loud cry. A girl's figure had appeared in the doorway of the +colonel's drawing-room. Ronnie plunged in, and it was seen no more. + +The colonel turned to Baring for sympathy, and found that the latter had +abruptly, almost violently, turned his back. It surprised him +considerably, for he had often declared his conviction that under no +circumstances would this officer of his lose his iron composure. +Baring's behaviour of the night before had seemed to corroborate this; +in fact, he had even privately thought him somewhat cold-blooded. + +But his present conduct seemed to indicate that even Baring was human, +notwithstanding his strength; and in his heart the colonel liked him for +it. After a moment he began to speak, considerately ignoring the other's +attitude. + +"She was providentially on the further hill when it happened, and she +had great difficulty in getting round to us; lost her way several times, +poor girl, and only panic-stricken natives to direct her. It's been a +shocking disaster--the native village entirely swept away, though not +many European lives lost, I am glad to say. But Hyde is among the +missing. You knew Hyde?" + +"I knew him--well." Baring's words seemed to come with an effort. + +"Ah, well, poor fellow; he probably didn't know much about it. Terrible, +a thing of this sort. It's impossible yet to estimate the damage, but +the whole of the lower valley is devastated. The Magician's bungalow has +entirely disappeared, I hear. A good thing the old man was away from +home." + +At this point, to Colonel Latimer's relief, Baring turned. He was paler +than usual, but there was no other trace of emotion about him. + +"If you will allow me," he said, "I should like to go and speak to her, +too." + +"Certainly," the colonel said heartily. "Certainly. Go at once! No doubt +she is expecting you. Tell the youngster I want him out here!" + +And Baring went. + + * * * * * + +If Hope did expect him, she certainly did not anticipate the manner of +his coming. The man who entered the colonel's drawing-room was not the +man who had striven with a mastery that was almost brutal to bring her +into subjection only the day before. She could not have told wherein the +difference lay, but she was keenly aware of its existence. And because +of her knowledge she felt no misgiving, no shadow of fear. She did not +so much as wait for him to come to her. Simply moved by the woman's +instinct that cannot err, she went straight to him, and so into his +arms, clinging to him with a little sobbing laugh, and not speaking at +all, because there were no words that could express what she yet found +it so sublimely easy to tell him. Baring did not speak either, but he +had a different reason for his silence. He only held her closely to him, +till presently, raising her face to his, she understood. And she laughed +again, laughed through tears. + +"Weren't you rather quick to give up--hope?" she whispered. + +He did not answer her, but she found nothing discouraging in his +silence. Rather, it seemed to inspire her. She slipped her arms round +his neck. Her tears were nearly gone. + +"Hope doesn't die so easily," she said softly. "And I'll tell you +another thing that is ever so much harder to kill, that can never die at +all, in fact; or, perhaps I needn't. Perhaps you can guess what it is?" + +And again he did not answer her. He only bent, holding her fast pressed +against his heart, and kissed her fiercely, passionately, even +violently, upon the lips. + +"My Hope!" he said. "My Hope!" + + + + +The Deliverer[1] + + +I + +A PROMISE OF MARRIAGE + + +The band was playing very softly, very dreamily; it might have been a +lullaby. The girl who stood on the balcony of the great London house, +with the moonlight pouring full upon her, stooped, and nervously, +fumblingly, picked up a spray of syringa that had fallen from among the +flowers on her breast. + +The man beside her, dark-faced and grave, put out a perfectly steady +hand. + +"May I have it?" he said. + +She looked up at him with the start of a trapped animal. Her face was +very pale. It was in striking contrast to the absolute composure of his. +Very slowly and reluctantly she put the flower into his outstretched +hand. + +He took it, but he took her fingers also and kept them in his own. + +"When will you marry me, Nina?" he asked. + +She started again and made a frightened effort to free her hand. + +He smiled faintly and frustrated it. + +"When will you marry me?" he repeated. + +She threw back her head with a gesture of defiance; but the courage in +her eyes was that of desperation. + +"If I marry you," she said, "it will be purely and only for your money." + +He nodded. Not a muscle of his face moved. + +"Of course," he said. "I know that." + +"And you want me under those conditions?" + +There was a quiver in the words that might have been either of scorn or +incredulity. + +"I want you under any conditions," he responded quietly. "Marry my money +by all means if it attracts you! But you must take me with it." + +The girl shrank. + +"I can't!" she whispered suddenly. + +He released her hand calmly, imperturbably. + +"I will ask you again to-morrow," he said. + +"No!" she said sharply. + +He looked at her questioningly. + +"No!" she repeated, with a piteous ring of uncertainty in her voice. +"Mr. Wingarde, I say No!" + +"But you don't mean it," he said, with steady conviction. + +"I do mean it!" she gasped. "I tell you I do!" + +She dropped suddenly into a low chair and covered her face with a moan. + +The man did not move. He stared absently down into the empty street as +if waiting for something. There was no hint of impatience about his +strong figure. Simply, with absolute confidence, he waited. + +Five minutes passed and he did not alter his position. The soft strains +in the room behind them had swelled into music that was passionately +exultant. It seemed to fill and overflow the silence between them. Then +came a triumphant crash and it ended. From within sounded the gay buzz +of laughing voices. + +Slowly Wingarde turned and looked at the bent, hopeless figure of the +girl in the chair. He still held indifferently between his fingers the +spray of white blossom for which he had made request. + +He did not speak. Yet, as if in obedience to an unuttered command, the +girl lifted her head and looked up at him. Her eyes were full of misery +and indecision. They wavered beneath his steady gaze. Slowly, still +moving as if under compulsion, she rose and stood before him, white and +slim as a flower. She was quivering from head to foot. + +The man still waited. But after a moment he put out his hand silently. + +She did not touch it, choosing rather to lean upon the balustrade of the +balcony for support. Then at last she spoke, in a whisper that seemed to +choke her. + +"I will marry you," she said--"for your money." + +"I thought you would," Wingarde said very quietly. + +He stood looking down at her bent head and white shoulders. There were +sparkles of light in her hair that shone as precious metal shines in +ore. Her hands were both fast gripped upon the ironwork on which she +leant. + +He took a step forward and was close beside her, but he did not again +offer her his hand. + +"Will you answer my original question?" he said. "I asked--when?" + +In the moonlight he could see her shivering, shivering violently. She +shook her head; but he persisted. + +His manner was supremely calm and unhurried. + +"This week?" he said. + +She shook her head again with more decision. + +"Oh, no--no!" she said. + +"Next?" he suggested. + +"No!" she said again. + +He was looking at her full and deliberately, but she would not look at +him. She was quaking in every limb. There was a pause. Then Wingarde +spoke again. + +"Why not next week?" he asked. "Have you any particular reason?" + +She glanced at him. + +"It would be--so soon," she faltered. + +"What difference does that make?" A very strange smile touched his grim +lips. "Having made up your mind to do something disagreeable, do you +find shirking till the last moment makes it any easier--any more +palatable? Surely the sooner it's over--" + +"It never will be over," she broke in passionately. "It is for all my +life! Ah, what am I saying? Mr. Wingarde"--she turned towards him, her +face quivering painfully--"be patient with me! I have given my promise." + +The smile on his face deepened into something that closely resembled a +sneer. + +"How long do you want me to wait?" he said. "Fifty years?" + +She drew back sharply. But almost instantly he went on speaking. + +"I will yield a point," he said, "if it means so much to you. But, you +know, the wedding-day will dawn eventually, however remote we make it. +Will you say next month?" + +The girl's eyes wore a hunted look, but she kept them raised with +desperate resolution. She did not answer him, however. After a moment he +repeated his question. His face had become stern. The lines about his +mouth were grimly resolute. + +"Will you say next month, Nina?" he said. "It shall be the last day of +it if you wish. But--next month." + +His tone was inexorable. He meant to win this point, and she knew it. + +Her breath came quickly, unevenly; but in face of his mastery she made a +great effort to control her agitation. + +"Very well," she said, and she spoke more steadily than she had spoken +at all during the interview. "I will marry you next month." + +"Will you fix the day?" he asked. + +She uttered a sudden, breathless laugh--the reckless laugh of the loser. + +"Surely that cannot matter!" she said. "The first day or the last--as +you say, what difference does it make?" + +"You leave the choice tome?" he asked, without the smallest change of +countenance. + +"Certainly!" she said coldly. + +"Then I choose the first," he rejoined. + +And at the words she gave a great start as if already she repented the +moment of recklessness. + +The notes of a piano struck suddenly through the almost tragic silence +that covered up the protest she had not dared to utter. A few quiet +chords; and then a woman's voice began to sing. Slowly, with deep, +hidden pathos, the words floated out into the night; and, involuntarily +almost, the man and the girl stood still to listen: + + Shadows and mist and night, + Darkness around the way, + Here a cloud and there a star, + Afterwards, Day! + + Sorrow and grief and tears, + Eyes vainly raised above, + Here a thorn and there a rose; + Afterwards, Love! + +The voice was glorious, the rendering sublime. The spell of the singer +was felt in the utter silence that followed. + +Wingarde's eyes never left his companion's face. But the girl had turned +from him. She was listening, rapt and eager. She had forgotten his very +presence at her side. As the last passionate note thrilled into silence +she drew a long breath. Her eyes were full of tears. + +Suddenly she came to earth--to the consciousness of his watching +eyes--and her expression froze into contemptuous indifference. She +turned her head and faced him, scorning the tears she could not hide. + +In her look were bitter dislike, fierce resistance, outraged pride. + +"Some people," she said, with a little, icy smile, "would prefer to say +'Afterwards, Death!' I am one of them." + +Wingarde looked back at her with complete composure. He also seemed +faintly contemptuous. + +"You probably know as much of the one as of the other," he coolly +responded. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: I desire to acknowledge my indebtedness to the Author--I +regret to say unknown to me--of the little poem which I have quoted in +this story.] + + + + +II + +A RING OF VALUE + + +"So Nina has made up her mind to retrieve the family fortunes," yawned +Leo, the second son of the house. "Uncommonly generous of her. My only +regret is that it didn't occur to her that it would be a useful thing to +do some time back. Is the young man coming to discuss settlements +to-night?" + +"What a beast you are!" growled Burton, the eldest son. + +"We're all beasts, if it comes to that," returned Leo complacently. "May +as well say it as think it. She has simply sold herself to the highest +bidder to get the poor old pater out of Queer Street. And we shall, I +hope, get our share of the spoil. I understand that Wingarde is lavish +with his worldly goods. He certainly ought to be. He's a millionaire of +the first water. A thousand or so distributed among his wife's relations +would mean no more to him than the throwing of the crusts to the +sparrows." He stopped to laugh lazily. "And the wife's relations would +flock in swarms to the feast," he added in a cynical drawl. + +Burton growled again unintelligibly. He strongly resented the sacrifice, +though he could not deny that there was dire need for it. + +The family fortunes were at a very low ebb. His father's lands were +mortgaged already beyond their worth, and he and his brother had been +trained for nothing but a life of easy independence. + +There were five more sons of the family, all at various stages of +education--two at college, three at Eton. It behooved the only girl of +the family to put her shoulder to the wheel if the machine were to be +kept going on its uphill course. Lord Marchmont had speculated +desperately and with disastrous results during the past five years. His +wife was hopelessly extravagant. And, of late, visions of the bankruptcy +court had nearly distracted the former. + +It had filtered round among his daughter's admirers that money, not +rank, would win the prize. But somehow no one had expected Hereford +Wingarde, the financial giant, to step coolly forward and secure it for +himself. He had been regarded as out of the running. Women did not like +him. He was scarcely ever seen in Society. And it was freely rumoured +that he hated women. + +Nina Marchmont, moreover, had always treated him with marked coldness, +as if to demonstrate the fact that his wealth held no attractions for +her. On the rare occasions that they met she was always ready to turn +aside with half-contemptuous dislike on her proud face, and amuse +herself with the tamest of her worshippers rather than hold any +intercourse with the fabulous monster of the money-markets. + +Certainly there was a surprise in store for the world in which she +moved. It was also certain that she meant to carry it through with rigid +self-control. + +Meeting her two brothers at lunch, she received the half-shamed +congratulations of one and the sarcastic comments of the other without +the smallest hint of discomfiture. She had come straight from an +interview with her father whom she idolized, and his gruff: "Well, my +dear, well; delighted that you have fallen in love with the right man," +and the unmistakable air of relief that had accompanied the words, had +warmed her heart. + +She had been very anxious about her father of late. The occasional heart +attacks to which he was subject had become much more frequent, and she +knew that his many embarrassments and perplexities were weighing down +his health. Well, that anxiety was at least lightened. She would be able +to help in smoothing away his difficulties. Surely the man of millions +would place her in a position to do so! He had almost undertaken to do +so. + +The glad thought nerved her to face the future she had chosen. She was +even very faintly conscious of a mitigation of her antipathy for the man +who had made himself her master. Besides, even though married to him, +she surely need not see much of him. She knew that he spent the whole of +his day in the City. She would still be free to spend hers as she +listed. + +And so, when she saw him that evening, when his momentous interview with +her father was over, she was moved to graciousness for the first time. A +passing glimpse of her father's face assured her that all had gone well, +aye, more than well. + +As for Wingarde, he waived the money question altogether when he found +himself alone with his _fiancée_. + +"Your father will tell you what provision I am prepared to make for +you," he coldly said. "He is fully satisfied--on your behalf." + +She felt the sting of the last words, and flushed furiously. But she +found no word of indignation to utter, though in a moment her +graciousness was a thing of the past. + +"I have not deceived you," she said, speaking with an effort. + +He gave her a keen look. + +"I don't think you could," he rejoined quietly. "And I certainly +shouldn't advise you to try." + +And then to her utter surprise and consternation he took her shoulders +between his hands. + +"May I kiss you?" he asked. + +There was not a shade of emotion to be detected in either face or voice +as he made the request. Yet Nina drew back from him with a shudder that +she scarcely attempted to disguise. + +"No!" she said vehemently. + +He set her free instantly, and she thought he smiled. But the look in +his eyes frightened her. She felt the mastery that would not compel. + +"One more thing," he said, calmly passing on. "It is usual for a girl in +your position to wear an engagement ring. I should like you to wear this +in my honour." + +He held out to her on the palm of his hand a little, old-fashioned ring +set with rubies and pearls. Nina glanced at him in momentary surprise. +It was not in the least what she would have expected as the rich man's +first gift. Involuntarily she hesitated. She felt that he had offered +her something more than mere precious stones set in gold. + +He waited for her to take the ring in absolute silence. + +"Mr. Wingarde," she said nervously, "I--I am afraid it is something you +value." + +"It is," he said. "It belonged to my mother. In fact, it was her +engagement ring. But why should you be afraid?" + +For the first time there was a note of softness in his voice. + +Nina's face was burning. + +"I would rather have something you do not care about," she said in a low +tone. + +Instantly his face grew hard. + +"Give me your hand!" he said shortly. "The left, please!" + +She gave it, the flush dying swiftly from her cheeks. She could not +control its trembling as he deliberately fitted the ring on to the third +finger. + +"Understand," he said, "that I wish this ring and no other to be the +token of your engagement to me. If you object to it, I am sorry. But, +after all, it will only be in keeping with the rest. I must go now as I +have an appointment to keep. Your father has asked me to lunch on Sunday +and I have accepted. I hope you will pay me the compliment of being at +home." + + + + +III + +THE HONEYMOON + + +The first of June fell on a Saturday that year, and a good many people +remained in town for it in order to be present at the wedding of Lord +Marchmont's only daughter to Hereford Wingarde, the millionaire. + +Comments upon Nina's choice had even yet scarcely died out, and Archie +Neville, her faithful friend and admirer, was still wondering why he and +his very comfortable income had been passed over for this infernal +bounder whom no one knew. He had proposed to Nina twice, and on each +occasion her refusal had seemed to him to be tinged with regret. To use +his own expression, he was "awfully cut up" by the direction affairs had +taken. But, philosophically determined to make the best of it, he +attended the wedding with a smiling face, and even had the audacity to +kiss the bride--a privilege that had not been his since childhood. + +Hereford Wingarde, standing by his wife's side, the recipient of +congratulations from crowds of people who seemed to be her intimate +friends, but whom he had never seen before, noted that salute of Archie +Neville's with a very slight lift of his black brows. He noted also that +Nina returned it, and that her hand lingered in that of the young man +longer than in those of any of her other friends. It was a small +circumstance, but it stuck in his memory. + +A house had been lent them for the honeymoon by one of Nina's wealthy +friends in the Lake District. They arrived there hard upon midnight, +having dined on board the train. + +A light meal awaited them, to which they immediately sat down. + +"You are tired," Wingarde said, as the lamplight fell upon his bride's +flushed face and bright eyes. + +His own eyes were critical. She laughed and turned aside from them. + +"I am not at all tired," she said. "I am only sorry the journey is over. +I miss the noise." + +He made no further comment. He had a disconcerting habit of dropping +into sudden silences. It took possession of him now, and they finished +their refreshment with scarcely a word. + +Then Nina rose, holding her head very high. He embarrassed her, and she +strongly resented being embarrassed. + +Wingarde at once rose also. He looked more massive than usual, almost as +if braced for a particular effort. + +"Going already?" he said. "Good-night!" + +"Good-night!" said Nina. + +She glanced at him with momentary indecision. Then she held out her +hand. + +He took it and kept it. + +"I think you will have to kiss me on our wedding night," he said. + +She turned very white. The hunted look had returned to her eyes. She +answered him with the rapidity of desperation. + +"You can do as you like with me now," she said. "I am not able to +prevent you." + +"You mean you would rather not?" he said, without the smallest hint of +anger or disappointment in his tone. + +She started a little at the question. There was no escaping the +searching of his eyes. + +"Of course I would rather not," she said. + +He released her quivering hand and walked quietly to the door. + +"Good-night, Nina!" he said, as he opened it. + +She stood for a moment before she realized that he had yielded to her +wish. Then, as he waited, she made a sudden impulsive movement towards +him. + +Her fingers rested for an instant on his arm. + +"Good-night--Hereford!" she said. + +He looked down at her hand, not offering to touch it. His lips relaxed +cynically. + +"Don't overwhelm me!" he said. + +And in a flash she had passed him with blazing eyes and a heart that was +full of fierce anger. So this was his reception of her first overture! +Her cheeks burnt as she vowed to herself that she would attempt no more. + +She did not see her husband again that night. + +When they met in the morning, he seemed to have forgotten that they had +parted in a somewhat strained atmosphere. The only peculiarity about +his greeting was that it did not seem to occur to him to shake hands. + +"There is plenty to do if you're feeling energetic," he said. 'Driving, +riding, mountaineering, boating; which shall it be?" + +"Have you no preference?" she asked, as she faced him over the +coffee-urn. + +He smiled slightly. + +"Yes, I have," he said. "But let me hear yours first!" + +"Driving," she said at once. "And now yours?" + +"Mine was none of these things," he answered. "I wonder what sort of +conveyance they can provide us with? Also what manner of horse? Are you +going to drive or am I? Mind, you are to state your preference." + +"Very well," she answered. "Then I'll drive, please, I know this country +a little. I stayed near here three years ago with the Nevilles. Archie +and I used to fish." + +"Did you ever catch anything?" Wingarde asked, with his quiet eyes on +her face. + +"Of course we did," she answered. "Salmon trout--beauties. Oh, and other +things. I forget what they were called. We had great fun, I remember." + +Her face flushed at the remembrance. Archie had been very romantic in +those days, quite foolishly so. But somehow she had enjoyed it. + +Wingarde said no more. He rose directly the meal was over. It was a +perfect summer morning. The view from the windows was exquisite. Beyond +the green stretches of the park rose peak after peak of sunlit +mountains. There were a few cloud-shadows floating here and there. In +one place, gleaming like a thread of silver, he could see a waterfall +tumbling down a barren hillside. + +Suddenly, through the summer silence, an octave of bells pealed +joyously. + +Nina started + +"Why, it's Sunday!" she exclaimed. "I had quite forgotten. We ought to +go to church." + +Wingarde turned round. + +"What an inspiration!" he said dryly. + +His tone offended her. She drew herself up. + +"Are you coming?" she asked coldly. + +He looked at her with the same cynical smile with which he had received +her overture the night before. + +"No," he said. "I won't bore you with my company this morning." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"As you please," she said, turning to the door. + +He made no rejoinder. And as she passed out, she realized that he +believed she had suggested going to church in order to escape an hour of +his hated society. It was but a slight injustice and certainly not +wholly unprovoked by her. But, curiously, she resented it very strongly. +She almost felt as if he had insulted her. + +She found him smoking in the garden when she returned from her solitary +expedition, and she hoped savagely that he had found his own society as +distasteful as she did; though on second thoughts this seemed scarcely +possible. + +She decided regretfully, yet with an inner sense of expediency, that she +would spend the afternoon in his company. But her husband had other +plans. + +"You have had a hot walk," he said. "You had better rest this afternoon. +I am going to do a little mountaineering; but I mean to be back by +tea-time. Perhaps when it is cool you will come for a stroll, unless you +have arranged to attend the evening service also." + +He glanced at her and saw the indignant colour rise in her face. But she +was too proud to protest. + +"As you wish," she said coldly. + +Conversation during lunch was distinctly laboured. Wingarde's silences +were many and oppressive. It was an unspeakable relief to the girl when +at length he took himself off. She told herself with a wry smile that he +was getting on her nerves. She did not yet own that he frightened her. + +The afternoon's rest did her good; and when he returned she was ready +for him. + +He looked at her, as she sat in the garden before the tea-table in her +muslin dress and big straw hat, with a shade of approval in his eyes. + +He threw himself down into a chair beside her without speaking. + +"Have you been far?" she asked. + +"To the top of the hill," he answered. "I had a splendid view of the +sea." + +"It must have been perfect," she said. + +"You have been there?" he asked. + +"Oh, yes," she answered, "long ago; with Archie." + +Wingarde turned his head and looked at her attentively. She tried to +appear unconscious of his scrutiny, and failed signally. Before she +could control it, the blood had rushed to her face. + +"And you found it worth doing?" he asked. + +The question seemed to call for no reply, and she made none. + +But yet again she felt as if he had insulted her. + +She was still burning with silent resentment when they started on their +walk. He strolled beside her, cool and unperturbed. If he guessed her +mood, he made no sign. + +"Where are you taking me?" he asked presently. + +"It is the road to the wishing-gate," she replied icily. "There is a +good view of the lake farther on." + +He made no further enquiry, and they walked on in dead silence through +exquisite scenery. + +They reached the wishing-gate, and the girl stopped almost +involuntarily. + +"Is this the fateful spot?" said Wingarde, coming suddenly out of his +reverie. "What is the usual thing to do? Cut our names on the gate-post? +Rather a low-down game, I always think." + +She uttered a sudden, breathless laugh. "My name is here already," she +said, pointing with a finger that shook slightly at some minute +characters cut into the second bar of the gate. + +He bent and looked at the inscription--two names cut with infinite care, +two minute hearts intertwined beneath. + +Nina watched him with a scornful little smile on her lips. + +"Artistic, isn't it?" she said. + +He straightened himself abruptly, and their eyes met. There was a +curious glint in his that she had never seen before. She put her hand +sharply to her throat. Quite suddenly she knew that she was afraid of +this monster to whom she had given herself--horribly, unreasonably +afraid. + +But he did not speak, and her scare began to subside. + +"Now I'm going to wish," she said mounting the lowest bar of the gate. + +He spoke then, abruptly, cynically. + +"Really," he said, "what can you have to wish for now?" + +She looked back at him defiantly. Her eyes were on a level with his. +Because he had frightened her, she went the more recklessly. It would +never answer to let him suspect this power of his. + +"Something that I'm afraid you will never give me," she said, a bitter +ring in her voice. + +"What?" he asked sharply. + +"Among other things, happiness," she said. "You can never give me +that." + +She saw him bite his lip, but he controlled himself to speak quietly. + +"Surely you make a mistake," he said, "to wish for something which, +since you are my wife, can never be yours!" + +She laughed, still standing on the gate, and telling herself that she +felt no fear. + +"Very well," she said, "I will wish for a Deliverer first." + +"For what?" + +His naked fist banged down upon the gate-post, and she saw the blood +start instantly and begin to flow. She knew in that moment that she had +gone too far. + +Her fear returned in an overwhelming flood. She stumbled off the gate +and faced him, white to the lips. + +A terrible pause followed, in which she knew herself to be fighting him +with every inch of her strength. Then suddenly, without apparent reason, +she gave in. + +"I was joking," she said, in a low voice. "I spoke in jest." + +He made her a curt bow, his face inflexibly stern. + +"It is good of you to explain," he said. "With my limited knowledge of +your character and motives, I am apt to make mistakes." + +He turned from her abruptly with the words, and, shaking the blood from +his hand, bound the wound with his handkerchief. + +"Shall we go on?" he said then. + +And Nina accompanied him, ashamed and afraid. She felt as if at the last +moment she had asked for quarter; and, contemptuously, because she was a +woman, he had given it. + + + + +IV + +A GREVIOUS WOUND + + +After that moment of madness by the wishing-gate Nina's wanton desire to +provoke to wrath the monster to whom she was chained died a sudden and +unnatural death. She was scrupulously careful of his feelings from that +day forward, and he treated her with a freezing courtesy, a cynical +consideration, that seemed to form a barrier behind which the actual man +concealed himself and watched. + +That he did watch her was a fact of which she was miserably conscious. +She knew with the certain knowledge of intuition that he studied her +continually. She was perpetually under the microscope of his criticism, +and there were times when she told herself she could not bear it. He was +too much for her; too pitiless a tyrant, too stern a master. Her life +was becoming insupportable. + +A fortnight of their honeymoon had passed away, when one morning +Wingarde looked up with a frown from a letter. + +"I have had a summons to town," he said abruptly. + +Nina's heart leapt at the words, and her relief showed itself for one +unmanageable second in her face. + +He saw it, and she knew he saw it. + +"I shall be sorry," he said, with cutting sarcasm, "to curtail your +enjoyment here, but the necessity for my presence is imperative. I +should like to catch the two-thirty this afternoon if you can be ready +by then." + +Nina's face was burning. She held herself very erect. + +"I can be ready before then if you wish," she said stiffly. + +He rose from the breakfast-table with a curt laugh. As he passed her he +flicked her cheek with the envelope he held in his hand. + +"You are a dutiful wife, my dear," he said. + +She winced sharply, and bent her head over her own letters. + +"I do my best," she said, after a moment. + +"I am sure of it," he responded dryly. + +He paused at the door as if he expected her to say more. More came, +somewhat breathlessly, and not upon the same subject. + +Nina glanced up with sudden resolution. + +"Hereford," she said, "can you let me have some money?" + +She spoke with the rapidity of nervousness. She saw his hand leave the +door. His face remained quite unmoved. + +"For yourself?" he asked. + +Considering the amount of the settlement he had made upon her, the +question was absurd. Nina smiled faintly. + +"No," she said, "not for myself." + +He took a cheque-book from his pocket and walked to a writing-table. + +"How much do you want?" he asked. + +She hesitated, and he looked round at her. + +"I--I only want to borrow it," she said haltingly. "It is rather a big +sum." + +"How much?" he repeated. + +"Five thousand pounds," she answered, in a low voice. + +He continued to look at her for several seconds. Finally he turned and +shut up his cheque-book with a snap. + +"The money will be placed to your credit to-morrow," he said. "But +though a financier, I am not a money-lender. Please understand that! And +let your family understand it, too." + +And, rising, he walked straight from the room. + +No further reference was made to the matter on either side. Nina's pride +or her courage shrank from any expression of gratitude. + +In the afternoon with intense thankfulness she travelled southward. +Never were London smoke and dust more welcome. + +They went straight to Wingarde's great house in Crofton Square. Dinner +was served immediately upon their arrival. + +"I must ask you to excuse me," Wingarde said, directly dessert was +placed upon the table. "I have to go out--on business. In case I don't +see you again, good-night!" + +He was on his feet as he spoke. In her surprise Nina started up also. + +"At this hour!" she exclaimed. "Why, it is nearly eleven!" + +"At this hour," he grimly responded, "you will be able to dispense with +my society no doubt." + +His tone silenced her. Yet, as he turned to go, she looked after him +with mute questioning in her eyes. She had a feeling that he was keeping +something from her, and--perhaps it was merely the natural result of +womanly curiosity baffled--she was vaguely hurt that he did not see fit +to tell her whither his business was taking him. + +A few words would have sufficed; but he had not chosen to utter them, +and her pride was sufficient to suppress any display of interest in his +affairs. She would not court the snub that she felt convinced he would +not hesitate to administer. + +So he left her without explanation, and Nina went drearily to bed. On +the following morning, however, the sun shone upon her, and she went +downstairs in better spirits. + +The first person she encountered was her husband. He was sauntering +about the morning-room in his overcoat, a cup of strong tea in his hand. + +He greeted her perfunctorily, as his fashion was. + +"Oh, good-morning!" he said. "I have only just got back. I was detained +unavoidably. I am going upstairs for an hour's rest, and then I shall +be off to the City. I don't know if you would care to drive in with me. +I shall use the car, but it will then be at your service for the rest of +the day." + +"Have you been working all night?" Nina asked incredulously. + +He nodded. + +"It was unavoidable," he said again, with a touch of impatience. "You +had better have a second brew of tea, this is too strong for you." + +He set down his cup and rang the bell. + +Nina stood and looked at him. He certainly did not look like a man who +had been up all night. Alert, active, tough as wire, he walked back to +the table and gathered together his letters. A faint feeling of +admiration stirred in her heart. His, strength appealed to her for the +first time. + +"I should like to drive into the City with you," she said, after a +pause. + +He gave her a sharp glance. + +"I thought you would be wanting to go to the bank," he remarked coolly. + +She flushed and turned her back upon him. It was an unprovoked assault, +and she resented it fiercely. + +When they met again an hour later she was on the defensive, ready to +resist his keenest thrust, and, seeing it, he laughed cynically. + +"Armed to the teeth?" he asked, with a careless glance at her slim +figure and delicate face. + +She did not answer him by so much as a look. He handed her into the car +and took his seat beside her. + +"Can you manage to dine out with some of your people to-night?" he +asked. "I am afraid I shall not be home till late." + +"You seem to have a great deal on your hands," she remarked coldly. + +"Yes," said Wingarde. + +It was quite obvious that he had no intention of taking her into his +confidence, and Nina was stubbornly determined to betray no interest. +Then and there she resolved that since he chose to give himself up +entirely to the amassing of wealth, not hesitating to slight his wife in +the process, she also would live her separate life wholly independent of +his movements. + +She pretended to herself that she would make the most of it. But deep in +her heart she hated him for thus setting her aside. His action pierced +straight through her pride to something that sheltered behind it, and +inflicted a grevious wound. + + + + +V + +A STRUGGLE FOR MASTERY + + +"Jove! Here's a crush!" laughed Archie Neville. "Delighted to meet you +again, Mrs. Wingarde! How did you find the Lakes?" + +His good-looking, boyish face was full of pleasure. He had not expected +to meet her. Nina's welcoming smile was radiant. + +"Oh, here you are, Archie!" she exclaimed, as they shook hands. "Someone +said you were out of town, but I couldn't believe anything so tragic." + +"Quite right," said Archie. "Never believe the worst till there is +positively no alternative. I'm not out of town, and I'm not going to be. +It's awfully nice to see you again, you know! I thought the sun had set +for the rest of the season." + +Nina uttered a gay little laugh. + +"Oh, dear, no! We certainly intended to stay longer, but Hereford was +summoned back on business, and I really wasn't sorry on the whole. I did +rather regret missing all the fun." + +Archie laughed. + +"Hereford must be doing dark deeds then," he said, "of which he keeps +the rest of the world in complete ignorance. The markets are dead flat +just now--nothing doing whatever. It's enough to make you tear your +hair." + +"Really!" said Nina. "He gave me to understant that it was something +urgent." + +And then she became suddenly silent, meeting Archie's eyes, and aware of +the surprise he was too much of a gentleman to express. With a cold +feeling of dissatisfaction she turned from the subject. + +"It's very nice to be back again among my friends," she said. "Can't you +come and dine to-morrow and go to the theatre afterwards?" + +Archie considered a moment, and she knew that when he answered he was +cancelling other engagements. + +"Thanks, I shall be delighted!" he said, "if I shan't be _de trop_." + +There was a touch of mockery in Nina's smile. + +"We shall probably be alone," she said. "My husband's business keeps him +late in the City. We have been home a week, and he has only managed to +dine with me once." + +"Isn't he here to-night?" asked Archie. + +She shook her head. + +"What an infernal shame!" he exclaimed impulsively. "Oh, I beg your +pardon! That was a slip." + +But Nina laid her hand on his sleeve. + +"You needn't apologize," she said, in a low voice. "One can't have +everything. If you marry--an outsider--for his money, you have to pay +the penalty." + +Archie looked at her with further indiscretion upon the tip of his +tongue. But he thought twice and kept it back. + +"I say, you know," he said awkwardly, "I--I'm sorry." + +"Thank you," she said gently. "Well, you will come to-morrow?" + +"Of course," he said. "What theatre shall we go to? I'll bring the +tickets with me." + +The conversation drifted away into indifferent topics and presently they +parted. Nina was almost gay of heart as she drove homeward that night. +She had begun to feel her loneliness very keenly, and Archie's society +promised to be of value. + +Her husband was waiting for her when she returned. As she entered her +own sitting-room, he started up abruptly from an arm-chair as if her +entrance had suddenly roused him from sleep. She was considerably +surprised to see him there, for he had never before intruded without her +permission. + +He glanced at the clock, but made no comment upon the lateness of the +hour. + +"I hope you have enjoyed yourself," he said somewhat formally. + +The words were as unexpected as was his presence there. Nina stood for a +moment, waiting for something further. + +Then, as he did not speak, she shrugged her shoulders and threw back her +cloak. + +"It was a tremendous crush," she said indifferently. "No, I didn't enjoy +it particularly. But it was something to do." + +"I am sorry you are feeling bored," he said gravely. + +Nina sat down in silence. She did not in the least understand what had +brought him there. + +"It is getting rather late," she remarked, after a pause. "I am just +going to have a cup of tea and then go to bed." + +A little tea-tray stood on the table at her elbow. A brass kettle was +fizzing cheerily above a spirit stove. + +"Do you want a cup?" she asked, with a careless glance upwards. + +He had remained standing, looking down at her with an expression that +puzzled her slightly. His eyes were heavy, as if they wanted sleep. + +"Thank you," he said. + +Nina threw off her wraps and sat up to brew the tea. The light from a +rose-shaded lamp poured full upon her. She looked superb and she knew +it. The knowledge deprived her for once of that secret sense of fear +that so brooded at the back of her intercourse with this man. He stood +in total silence behind her. She began to wonder what was coming. + +Having made tea, she leant back again with her hands behind her head. + +"I suppose we must give it two minutes to draw," she remarked, with a +smothered yawn. "Isn't it frightfully hot to-night? I believe there is +thunder about." + +He made no response, and she turned her eyes slowly upon him. She knew +he was watching her, but a curious sense of independence possessed her +that night. He did not disconcert her. + +Their eyes met. Hers were faintly insolent. His were inscrutable. + +At last he spoke. + +"I am sorry you have not enjoyed yourself," he said, speaking rather +stiffly. "Will you--by way of a change--come out with me to-morrow +night? I think I may anyhow promise you"--he paused slightly--"that you +shall not be bored." + +There was a short silence. Nina turned and moved the cups on the little +tray. She did not, however, seem embarrassed. + +"I happen to be engaged to-morrow evening," she said coldly at length. + +"Is it important?" he asked. "Can't you cancel the engagement?" + +She uttered a little, flippant laugh. She had not hoped for such an +opportunity as this. + +"I'm afraid I really can't," she said. "You should have asked me +earlier." + +"What are you going to do?" + +There was a new note in his voice--a hint of mastery. She resented it +instantly. + +"That is my affair," she said calmly, beginning to pour out the tea. + +He looked at her as if he scarcely believed his ears. He was silent for +some seconds, and very quietly she turned to him and handed him a cup. + +He took it from her and instantly set it aside. + +"Be good enough to answer my question!" he said. + +She heard the gathering sternness in his tone, and, tea-cup in hand, she +laughed. A curious recklessness possessed her that night. She felt as if +she had the strength to fling off the bands of tyranny. But her heart +had begun to beat very fast. She realized that this was no mere +skirmish. + +"Why should I answer you?" she asked, helping herself to some more cream +with a hand that was slightly unsteady in spite of her effort to +control it. "I do not see the necessity." + +"I think you do," he rejoined. + +Nina said no more. She swallowed her tea, nibbled at a wafer with a +species of deliberate trifling calculated to proclaim aloud her utter +fearlessness, and at length rose to go. + +In that moment her husband stepped forward and took her by the +shoulders. + +"Before you leave this room, please," he said quietly. + +She drew back from him in a blaze of indignant rebellion. + +"I will not!" she said. "Let me go instantly!" + +His hold tightened. His face was more grim than she had ever seen it. +His eyes seemed to beat hers down. Yet when he spoke he did not raise +his voice. + +"I have borne a good deal from you, Nina," he said. "But there is a +limit to every man's endurance." + +"You married me against my will," she panted. "Do you think I have not +had anything to endure, too?" + +"That accusation is false," he said. "You married me of your own accord. +Without my money, you would have passed me by with scorn. You know it." + +She began to tremble violently. + +"Do you deny that?" he insisted pitilessly. + +"At least you pressed me hard," she said. + +"I did," he replied. "I saw you meant to sell yourself. And I did not +mean you to go to any scoundrel." + +"So you bought me for yourself?" she said, with a wild laugh. + +"I did." Wingarde's voice trembled a little. "I paid your price," he +said, "and I have taken very little for it. You have offered me still +less. Now, Nina, understand! This is not going on for ever. I simply +will not bear it. You are my wife, sworn to obey me--and obey me you +shall." + +He held her fast in front of him. She could feel the nervous strength of +his hands. It thrilled her through and through. She felt like a trapped +animal in his grasp. Her resistance began to waver. + +"What are you going to do?" she asked. + +"I am going to conquer you," he said grimly. + +"You won't do it by violence," she returned quickly. + +Her words seemed to pierce through a weak place in the iron armour in +which he had clad himself. Abruptly he set her free. + +The suddenness of his action so surprised her that she tottered a +little. He made a swift move towards her; but in a second she had +recovered herself, and he drew back. She saw that his face was very +pale. + +"Are you quite sure of that?" he asked. + +She did not answer him. Shaking from head to foot, she stood facing him. +But words would not come. + +After a desperate moment the tension was relaxed. He turned on his heel. + +"Well, I have warned you," he said, and strode heavily away. + +The moment she ceased to hear his footsteps, Nina sank down into a chair +and burst into tears. + + + + +VI + +AN OFFER OF HELP + + +On the following morning Nina did not descend the stairs till she had +heard the car leave the house. The strain of the previous night's +interview had told upon her. She felt that she had not the resolution to +face such another. + +The heat was intense. She remembered with regret that she had promised +to attend a charitable bazaar in the City that afternoon. Somehow she +could summon no relish either for that or the prospect of the theatre +with Archie at night. She wondered whither her husband had proposed to +take her, half wishing she had yielded a point to go. + +She went to the bazaar, fully prepared to be bored. The first person she +saw, however, was Archie, and at once the atmosphere seemed to lighten. + +He attached himself to her without a moment's delay. + +"I say," he said, "send your car back! I'll take you home. I've got my +hansom here. It's much more exciting than a motor. We'll go and have +tea somewhere presently." + +Nina hesitated for barely a second, then did as he required. + +Archie's eyes were frankly tender. But, after all, why not? They had +known each other all their lives. She laughed at the momentary scruple +as they strolled through the bazaar together. + +Archie bought her an immense fan--"to keep off the flies," as he +elegantly expressed it; and she made a few purchases herself as in duty +bound, and conversed with several acquaintances. + +Then, her companion becoming importunate for departure, she declined tea +in the hall and went away with him. + +Archie was enjoying himself hugely. + +"Now, where would you like to go for tea?" he asked as they drove away. + +"I don't care in the least," she said, "only I'm nearly dead. Let it be +somewhere close at hand." + +Archie promptly decided in favour of a tea-shop in St. Paul's +Churchyard. + +"I suppose you have read the morning papers?" he said, as they sat down. +"I thought your husband had something up his sleeve." + +"What do you mean?" queried Nina quickly. "No, I know nothing." + +Archie laughed. + +"Don't you really? Well, he has made a few thousands sit up, I can tell +you. You've heard of the Crawley gold fields? Heaven knows where they +are, but that doesn't matter--somewhere in Australia of course. No one +knew anything about them till recently. Well, they were boomed +tremendously a little while ago. Your husband was the prime mover. He +went in for them largely. Everyone went for them. They held for a bit, +then your husband began to sell as fast as he could. And then, of +course, the shares went down to zero. People waited a bit, then +sold--for what they could get. No one knew who did the buying till +yesterday. My dear Nina, your husband has bought the lot. He has got the +whole concern into his hands for next to nothing. The gold fields have +turned up trumps. They stand three times as high as they ever did +before. He was behind the scenes. He merely sold to create a slump. If +he chose to sell again he could command almost any price he cared to +ask. Well, one man's loss is another man's gain. But he's as rich as +Croesus. They say there are a good many who would like to be at his +throat." + +Nina listened with disgust undisguised on her face. + +"How I loathe money!" she said abruptly. + +"Oh, I say!" protested Archie. "You're not such an extremist as that. +Think of the host of good things that can't be done without it." + +"What good things does he do?" she demanded contemptuously. "He simply +lives to heap up wealth." + +"You can't say for certain that he doesn't do a few decent things when +no one's looking," suggested Archie, who liked to be fair, even to those +for whom he felt no liking. "People--rich men like that--do, you know. +Why, only last night I heard of a man--he's a West End physician--who +runs a sort of private hospital somewhere in the back slums, and +actually goes and practises there when his consulting hours are over. +Pure philanthropy that, you know. And no one but the slummers any the +wiser. They say he's simply adored among them. They go to him in all +their troubles, physical or otherwise. That's only an instance. I don't +say your husband does that sort of thing. But he may." + +Nina uttered her bitter little laugh. + +"You always were romantic, Archie," she said. "But I'm afraid I'm past +the romantic age. Anyhow I'm an unbeliever." + +Archie gave her a keen look. + +"I say--" he said, and stopped. + +"Well?" Nina looked back at him questioningly. + +"I beg your pardon," he said, colouring boyishly. "You won't like what I +was going to say. I think I won't say it." + +"You needn't consider my feelings," she returned, "I assure you I am not +used to it." + +"Oh, well," he said. "I was going to say that you talk as if he were a +beast to you. Is he?" + +Nina raised her dark eyebrows and did not instantly reply. Archie +looked away from her. He felt uncomfortably that he had gone too far. + +Then slowly she made answer: + +"No, he is not. I think he has begun to realize that the battle is not +always to the strong." + +Struck by something in her tone, Archie glanced at her again. + +"Jove!" he suddenly said. "How you hate him!" + +The words were out almost before he knew it. Nina's face changed +instantly. But Archie's contrition was as swift. + +"Oh, I say, forgive me!" he broke in, with a persuasive hand on her arm. +"Do, if you can! I know it was unpardonable of me. I'm so awfully sorry. +You see, I--" + +She interrupted hastily. + +"It doesn't matter--it doesn't matter. I understand. It was quite an +excusable mistake. Please don't look so distressed! It hasn't hurt me +much. I think it would have hurt me more if it had been literally true." + +The sentences ran out rapidly. She was as agitated as he. They had the +little recess to themselves, and their voices scarcely rose above a +whisper. + +"Then it wasn't true?" Archie said, with a look of relief. + +Nina drew back. She was not prepared to go as far as that. All her life +she had sought to be honest in her dealings. + +"It hasn't come actually to that yet," she said under her breath. "But +it may--it may." + +Somehow it relieved the burden that pressed upon her to be able to speak +thus openly to her life-long comrade. But Archie looked grieved, almost +shocked. + +"What will you do if it does?" he asked. + +"I shall leave him," she said, her face growing hard. "I think he +understands that." + +There was a heavy silence between them. Then impulsively, with pure +generosity, Archie spoke. + +"Nina," he said, "if you should need--help--of any sort, you know--will +you count on me?" + +Nina hesitated for a moment. + +"Please!" said Archie gently. + +She bent her head. + +"Thank you," she said. "I will." + + + + +VII + +THE DELIVERER + + +Half-an-hour later they went out again into the blazing sunshine. + +"What do you think of my hack?" Archie asked, as they drove away +westwards. "I got him at Tattersall's the other day. I haven't driven +him before to-day. He's a bit jumpy. But I like an animal that can jump, +don't you know." + +"I know you do," laughed Nina. "I believe that is purely why you haven't +started a motor yet. They can do everything that is vicious and +extraordinary except jump. But do you really like a horse to shy at +everything he passes? Look at him now! He doesn't like that hand-cart +with red paint." + +"He's an artist," grinned Archie. "It offends his eye; and no wonder. +Don't be alarmed, though! He won't do anything outrageous. My man knows +how to manage him." + +Nina leant back. She was not, as a rule, nervous, but, as Archie's new +purchase was forced protesting past the object of his fright, she was +conscious of a very decided feeling of uneasiness. The animal looked to +her vicious as well as alarmed. + +They got safely past the hand-cart, and a brief interval of tranquillity +followed as they trotted briskly down Ludgate Hill. + +"He won't have time to look at anything now," said Archie cheerfully. + +The words had scarcely left his lips when the tire of a stationary car +they were passing exploded with a report like a rifle shot. In a second +Archie's animal leapt into the air, struck the ground with all four +hoofs together--and bolted. + +"My man's got him," said Archie. "Sit still! Nothing's going to happen." + +He put his arm in front of Nina and gripped the farther side of the +hansom. + +But Nina had not the smallest intention of losing her head. During the +first few moments her sensations were more of breathless interest than +fear. Certainly she was very far from panic. + +She saw the roadway before them clear as if by magic before their +galloping advance. She heard shouts, warning cries, yells of excitement. +She also heard, very close to her, Archie's voice, swearing so evenly +and deliberately that she was possessed by an insane desire to laugh at +him. Above everything else, she heard the furious, frantic rhythm of the +flying hoofs before them. And yet somehow inexplicably she did not at +first feel afraid. + +They tore with a speed that seemed to increase momentarily straight down +the thoroughfare that a few seconds before had seemed choked with +traffic. They shaved by vans, omnibuses, hand-barrows. Houses and shops +seemed to whirl past them, like a revolving nightmare--ever the same, +yet somehow ever different. A train was thundering over the bridge as +they galloped beneath it. The maddened horse heard and stretched himself +to his utmost speed. + +And then came tragedy--- the tragedy that Nina always felt that she had +known from the beginning of that wild gallop must come. + +As they raced on to Ludgate Circus she had a momentary glimpse of a boy +on a bicycle traversing the street before them at right angles. Archie +ceased suddenly to swear. The reins that till then had been taut sagged +down abruptly. He made a clutch at them and failed to catch them. They +slipped away sideways and dragged on the ground. + +There came a shock, a piercing cry. Nina started forward for the first +time, but Archie flung his arms round her, holding her fast. Then they +were free of the obstacle and dashing on again. + +"Let me see!" she gasped. "Let me see!" + +They bumped against a curb and nearly overturned. Then one of their +wheels caught another vehicle. The hansom was whizzed half round, but +the pitiless hoofs still tore on and almost miraculously the worst was +still averted. + +Archie's hold was close and nearly suffocated her; but over his shoulder +Nina still managed to look ahead. + +And thus looking she saw the most wonderful, and the most terrifying, +episode of the whole adventure. + +She saw a man in faultless City attire leap suddenly from the footway to +the road in front of them. For a breathless instant she saw him poised +to spring, and in her heart there ran a sudden, choking sense of +anguished recognition. She shut her eyes and cowered in Archie's arms. +Deliverance was coming. She felt it in every nerve. But how? And by +whom? + +There came a jerk and a plunge, a furious, straining effort. The fierce +galloping ceased, yet they made still for a few yards a halting, +difficult progress. + +Then they stopped altogether, and she felt the shock of hoofs upon the +splashboard. + +Another moment and that, too, ceased. They stood still, and Archie's +arms relaxed. + +Nina lifted her head and saw her husband hatless in the road, his face +set and grim, his hands gripping the reins with a strength that +evidently impressed upon the runaway the futility of opposition. In his +eyes was a look that made her tremble. + + + + +VIII + +AFTER THE ACCIDENT + + +"You had better go home in the car," Wingarde said. "It is waiting for +me in Fenwick Street. Mr. Neville, perhaps you will be good enough to +accompany my wife. Your animal is tame enough now. Your man will have no +difficulty with it, if he is to be found." + +"Ah! Exactly!" Archie said. + +He looked round vaguely. Nina was leaning on his arm. His man was +nowhere to be seen, having some minutes since abandoned a situation +which he had discovered to be beyond his powers to deal with. + +A crowd surrounded them, and a man at his elbow informed him that his +driver had thrown down the reins and jumped off before they were clear +of the railway bridge. Archie swallowed the comment upon this discreet +behaviour, that rose to his lips. + +A moment later Wingarde, who had seemed on the point of departure, +pushed his way hastily-back to him. + +"Never mind the hansom!" he said. "I believe your man has been hurt. I +will see to it. Just take my wife out of this, will you? I want to see +if that boy is alive or dead." + +He had turned again with the words, forcing his way through the crowd. +Nina pressed after him. She was as white as the dress she wore. There +was no holding her back. Archie could only accompany her. + +It was difficult to get through the gathering throng. When finally they +succeeded in doing so, they found Wingarde stooping over the unconscious +victim of the accident. He had satisfied himself that the boy lived, and +was feeling rapidly for broken bones. + +Becoming aware of Nina's presence, he looked up with a frown. Then, +seeing her piteous face, he refrained from uttering the curt rebuke that +had risen to his lips. + +"I want you to go home," he said. "I will do all that is necessary here. +Neville, take my wife home! The car is close at hand in Fenwick Street." + +"He isn't dead?" faltered Nina shakily. + +"No--certainly not." Wingarde's voice was confident. + +He turned from her to speak to a policeman; and Nina yielded to Archie's +hand on her arm. She was more upset than she had realized. + +Neither of them spoke during the drive westwards. Archie scowled a good +deal, but he gave no vent to his feelings. + +Arrived in Crofton Square, he would have taken his leave of her. But +Nina would not hear of this. + +"Please stay till Hereford comes!" she entreated. "You will want to know +what he has done. Besides, I want you." + +Archie yielded to pressure. No word was spoken by either in praise or +admiration of the man who had risked his life to save theirs. Somehow it +was a difficult subject between them. + +Nearly two hours later Wingarde arrived on foot. He reported Archie's +man only slightly the worse for his adventure. + +"It ought to have killed him," he said briefly. "But men of that sort +never are killed. I told him to drive back to stables. The horse was as +quiet as a lamb." + +"And the boy?" Nina asked eagerly. + +"Oh, the boy!" Wingarde said. "His case is more serious. He was taken to +the Wade Home. I went with him. I happen to know Wade." + +"That's the West End physician," said Archie. "He calls himself Wade, I +know, when he wants to be _incog_." + +"That's the man," said Wingarde. "But I am not acquainted with him as +the West End physician. He is purely a City acquaintance. Oh, are you +going, Neville? We shall see you again, I suppose?" + +It was not cordially spoken. Archie coloured and glanced at Nina. + +"You are coming to dinner, aren't you?" she said at once. "Please do! We +shall be alone. And you promised, didn't you?" + +Archie hesitated for a moment. Wingarde was looking at him piercingly. + +"I hope you won't allow my presence to interfere with any plans you may +have made for to-night's amusement," he remarked. "I shall be obliged to +go out myself after dinner." + +Archie drew himself up. Wingarde's tone stung. + +"You are very good," he said stiffly. "What do you say, Nina? Do you +feel up to the theatre?" + +Nina's colour also was very high. But her eyes looked softer than usual. +She turned to her husband. + +"Couldn't you come, too, for once, Hereford?" she asked. "We were +thinking of the theatre. It--it would be nice if you came too." + +The falter in the last sentence betrayed the fact that she was nervous. + +Wingarde smiled faintly, contemptuously, as he made reply. + +"Really, that's very kind of you," he said. "But I am compelled to plead +a prior engagement. You will be home by midnight, I suppose?" + +Archie made an abrupt movement. For a second he hovered on the verge of +an indignant outburst. The man's manner, rather than his words, was +insufferable. But in that second he met Wingarde's eyes, and something +he saw there checked him. He pulled himself together and somewhat +awkwardly took his leave. + +Wingarde saw him off, with the scoffing smile upon his lips. When he +returned to the drawing-room Nina was on her feet, waiting for him. She +was still unusually pale, and her eyes were very bright. She wore a +restless, startled look, as though her nerves were on the stretch. + +Wingarde glanced at her. + +"You had better go and lie down till dinner," he said. + +Nina looked back at him. Her lips quivered a little, but when she spoke +her voice was absolutely steady. She held her head resolutely high. + +"I think Archie must have forgotten to thank you," she said, "for what +you did. But I have not. Will you accept my gratitude?" + +There was proud humility in her voice. But Wingarde only shrugged his +shoulders with a sneer. + +"Your gratitude would have been more genuine if you had been saved a +widow instead of a wife," he said brutally. + +She recoiled from him. Her eyes flashed furious indignation. She felt as +if he had struck her in the face. She spoke instantly and vehemently. +Her voice shook. + +"That is a poison of your own mixing," she said. "You know it!" + +"What! It isn't true?" he asked. + +He drew suddenly close to her. His eyes gleamed also with the gleam of +a smouldering fire. She saw that he was moved. She believed him to be +angry. Trembling, yet scornful, she held her peace. + +He gripped her wrists suddenly, bending his dark face close to hers. + +"If it isn't true--" he said, and stopped. + +She drew back from him with a startled movement. For an instant her eyes +challenged his. Then abruptly their fierce resistance failed. She turned +her face aside and burst into tears. + +In a moment she was free. Her husband stood regarding her with a very +curious look in his eyes. He watched her as she moved slowly away from +him, fighting fiercely, desperately, to regain her self-control. He saw +her sit down, leaving almost the length of the room between them, and +lean her head upon her hand. + +Then the man's arrested brutality suddenly reasserted itself, and he +strode to the door. + +"Pshaw!" he exclaimed as he went. "Don't I know that you pray for a +deliverer every night of your life? And what deliverer would you have if +not death--the surest of all--in your case positively the only one +within the bounds of possibility?" + +He was gone with the words, but she would not have attempted to answer +them had he stayed. Her head was bowed almost to her knees, and she sat +quite motionless, as if he had stabbed her to the heart. + +Later she dined alone with Archie in her husband's unexplained absence, +and later still, at the theatre, her face was as gay, her laugh as +frequent, as any there. + + + + +IX + +THE END OF A MYSTERY + + +On the following afternoon Nina went to the Wade Home to see the victim +of the accident. She was received by the matron, a middle-aged, kindly +woman, who was openly pleased with the concern her visitor exhibited. + +"Oh, he's better," she said, "much better. But I'm afraid I can't let +you see him now, as he is asleep. Dr. Wade examined him himself +yesterday. And he was here again this morning. His opinion is that the +spine has been only bruised. While unconsciousness lasted, it was, of +course, difficult to tell. But the patient became conscious this +morning, and Dr. Wade said he was very well pleased with him on the +whole. He thinks we shall not have him very long. He's a bright little +chap and thoroughly likes his quarters. His father is a dock labourer. +Everyone knows the Wade Home, and all the patients consider themselves +very lucky to be here. You see, the doctor is such a favourite wherever +he goes." + +"I have never met Dr. Wade," Nina said. "I suppose he is a great man?" + +The matron's jolly face glowed with enthusiasm. + +"He is indeed," she said--"a splendid man. You probably know him by +another name. They say he is a leading physician in the West End. But we +City people know him and love him by his assumed name only. Why, only +lately he cut short his holiday on purpose to be near one of his +patients who was dying. If you could manage to come to-morrow afternoon +after four o'clock, no doubt you would see him. It is visiting-day, and +he is always here on Sunday afternoons between three and six in case the +visitors like to see him. I should be delighted to give you some tea. +And you could then see the little boy." + +"Thank you," Nina said. "I will." + +That evening she chanced to meet Archie Neville at a friend's +dinner-table and imparted to him her purpose. + +"Jove!" he said. "Good idea! I'll come with you, shall I?" + +"Please not in the hansom!" she said. + +"Not a bit of it," returned Archie. "But you needn't be nervous. I've +sacked that man. No matter! We'll go in a wheelbarrow if you think +that'll be safer." + +Nina laughed and agreed to accept his escort. Archie's society was a +very welcome distraction just then. + +To her husband she made no mention of her intention. She had established +the custom of going her own way at all times. It did not even cross her +mind to introduce the subject. He was treating her with that sarcastic +courtesy of his which was so infinitely hard to bear. It hurt her +horribly, and because of the pain she avoided him as much as she dared. + +She did not know how he spent his time on Sundays. Except for his +presence at luncheon she found she was left as completely to her own +devices as on other days. + +She had agreed to drive Archie to the Wade Home in her husband's +landaulette. + +Wingarde left the house before three and she was alone when Archie +arrived. + +The latter looked at her critically. + +"What's the matter?" he asked. + +"Nothing," she returned instantly. "Why?" + +"You're looking off colour," he said. + +Nina turned from him impatiently. + +"There is nothing the matter with me," she said. "Shall we start?" + +Archie said no more. But he glanced at her curiously from time to time. +He wondered privately if her husband's society were driving her to that +extreme which she had told him she might reach eventually. + +Visitors were being admitted to the Wade Home when they arrived. They +were directed to the ward where lay the boy in whom they were +interested. Nina presented him with flowers and a book, and sat for some +time talking with him. The little fellow was hugely flattered by her +attentions, though too embarrassed to express his pleasure in words. +Archie amused himself by making pennies appear and disappear in the +palms of his hands for the benefit of a sad-faced urchin in the next bed +who had no visitors. + +In the midst of this the matron bustled in to beg Nina and her companion +to take a cup of tea in her room. + +"Dr. Wade is here and sure to come in," she said. "I should like you to +meet him." + +Nina accordingly took leave of her _protégé_, and, followed by Archie, +repaired to the matron's room. + +The windows were thrown wide open, for the afternoon was hot. They sat +down, feeling that tea was a welcome sight. + +"I have a separate brew for Dr. Wade," said the matron cheerily. "He +likes it so very strong. He almost always takes a cup. There! I hear him +coming now." + +There sounded a step in the passage and a man's quiet laugh. Nina +started slightly. + +A moment later a voice in the doorway said: + +"Ah! Here you are, Mrs. Ritchie! I have just been prescribing a piece of +sugar for this patient of ours. Her mother is waiting to take her away." + +Nina was on her feet in an instant. All the blood seemed to rush to her +heart. Its throbs felt thick and heavy. On the threshold her husband +stood, looking full at her. In his arms was a little child. + +"Dr. Wade!" smiled the matron. "You do spoil your patients, sir. There! +Let me take her! Please come in! Your tea is just ready. I was just +talking about you to Mrs. Wingarde, who came to see the boy who was +knocked down by a hansom last week. Madam, this is Dr. Wade." + +She went forward to lift the child out of Wingarde's arms. There +followed a silence, a brief, hard-strung silence. Nina stood quite +still. Her hands were unconsciously clasped together. She was white to +the lips. But she kept her eyes raised to Wingarde's face. He seemed to +be looking through her, and in his eyes was that look with which he had +regarded her when he had saved her life and Archie's two days before. + +He spoke almost before the matron had begun to notice anything unusual +in the atmosphere. + +"Ah!" he said, with a slight bow. "You know me under different +circumstances--you and Mr. Neville. You did not expect to meet me here?" + +Archie glanced at Nina and saw her agitation. He came coolly forward and +placed himself in the breach. + +"We certainly didn't," he said. "It's good sometimes to know that people +are not all they seem. I congratulate you, er--Dr. Wade." + +Wingarde turned his attention to his wife's companion. His face was very +dark. + +"Take the child to her mother, please, Mrs. Ritchie!" he said curtly, +over his shoulder. + +The matron departed discreetly, but at the door the child in her arms +began to cry. + +Wingarde turned swiftly, took the little one's face between his hands, +spoke a soft word, and kissed it. + +Then, as the matron moved away, he walked back into the room, closing +the door behind him. All the tenderness with which he had comforted the +wailing baby had vanished from his face. + +"Mr. Neville," he said shortly, "my wife will return in the car with me. +I will relieve you of your attendance upon her." + +Archie turned crimson, but he managed to control himself--more for the +sake of the girl who stood in total silence by his side than from any +idea of expediency. + +"Certainly," he said, "if Mrs. Wingarde also prefers that arrangement." + +Nina glanced at him. He saw that her lip was quivering painfully. She +did not attempt to speak. + +Archie turned to go. But almost instantly Wingarde's voice arrested him. + +"I can give you a seat in the car if you wish," he said. He spoke with +less sternness, but his face had not altered. + +Archie stopped. Again for Nina's sake he choked back his wrath and +accepted the churlishly proffered amendment. + +Wingarde drank his tea, strolling about the room. He did not again +address his wife directly. + +As for Nina, though she answered Archie when he spoke to her, it was +with very obvious effort. She glanced from time to time at her husband +as if in some uncertainty. Finally, when they took leave of the matron +and went down to the car she seemed to hail the move with relief. + +Throughout the drive westwards scarcely a word was spoken. At the end of +the journey Archie turned deliberately and addressed Wingarde. His face +was white and dogged. + +"I should like a word with you in private," he said. + +Wingarde looked at him for a moment as if he meant to refuse. Then +abruptly he gave way. + +"I am at your service," he said formally. + +And Archie marched into the house in Nina's wake. + +In the hall Wingarde touched his shoulder. + +"Come into the smoking-room!" he said quietly. + + + + +X + +TAKEN TO TASK + + +"I want to know what you mean," said Archie. + +He stood up very straight, with the summer sunlight full in his face, +and confronted Nina's husband without a hint of dismay in his bearing. + +Wingarde looked at him with a very faint smile on his grim lips. + +"You wish to take me to task?" he asked. + +"I do," said Archie decidedly. + +"For what in particular? The innocent deception practised upon an +equally innocent public? Or for something more serious than that?" + +There was an unmistakable ring of sternness behind Wingarde's +deliberately scoffing tone. + +Archie answered him instantly, with the quickness of a man who fights +for his honour. + +"For something more serious," he said. "It's nothing to me what fool +trick you may choose to play for your own amusement. But I am not going +to swallow an insult from you or any man. I want an explanation for +that." + +Wingarde stood with his back to the light and looked at him. + +"In what way have I insulted you?" he said. + +"You implied that I was not a suitable escort for your wife," Archie +said, forcing himself to speak without vehemence. + +Wingarde raised his eyebrows. + +"I apologize if I was too emphatic," he said, after a moment. "But, +considering the circumstances, I am forced to tell you that I do not +consider you a suitable escort for my wife." + +"What circumstances?" said Archie. He clenched his hands abruptly, and +Wingarde saw it. + +"Please understand," he said curtly, "that I will listen to you only so +long as you keep your temper! I believe that you know what I mean--what +circumstances I refer to. If you wish me to put them into plain language +I will do so. But I don't think you will like it." + +Archie pounced upon the words. + +"You would probably put me to the trouble of calling you a liar if you +did," he said, in a shaking voice. "I have no more intention than you +have of mincing matters. As to listening to me, you shall do that in any +case. I am going to tell you the truth, and I mean that you shall hear +it." + +He strode to the door as he spoke, and locked it, pocketing the key. + +Wingarde did not stir to prevent him. He waited with a sneer on his lips +while Archie returned and took up his stand facing him. + +"You seem very sure of yourself," he said in a quiet tone. + +"I am," Archie said doggedly. "Absolutely sure. You think I am in love +with your wife, don't you?" + +Wingarde frowned heavily. + +"Are you going to throw dust in my eyes?" he asked contemptuously. + +Archie locked his hands behind him. + +"I am going to tell you the truth," he said again, and, though his voice +still shook perceptibly there was dignity in his bearing. "Three years +ago I was in love with her." + +"Calf love?" suggested Wingarde carelessly. + +"You may call it what you like," Archie rejoined. "That is to say, +anything honourable. I was hard hit three years ago, and it lasted off +and on till her marriage to you. But she never cared for me in the same +way. That I know now. I proposed to her twice, and she refused me." + +"You weren't made of money, you see," sneered Wingarde. + +Archie's fingers gripped each other. He had never before longed so +fiercely to hurl a blow in a man's face. + +"If I had been," he said, "I am not sure that I should have made the +running with you in the field. That brings me to what I have to say to +you. I wondered for a long time how she brought herself to marry you. +When you came back from your honeymoon I began to understand. She +married you for your money; but if you had chosen, she would have +married you for love." + +He blurted out the words hastily, as though he could not trust himself +to pause lest he should not say them. + +Wingarde stood up suddenly to his full height. For once he was taken +totally by surprise and showed it. He did not speak, however, and Archie +blundered on: + +"I am not your friend. I don't say this in any way for your sake. But--I +am her's--- her friend, mind you. I don't say I haven't ever flirted +with her. I have. But I have never said to her a single word that I +should be ashamed to repeat to you--not one word. You've got to believe +that whether you want to or not." + +He paused momentarily. The frown had died away from Wingarde's face, but +his eyes were stern. He waited silently for more. Archie proceeded with +more steadiness, more self-assurance, less self-restraint. + +"You've treated her abominably," he said, going straight to the point. +"I don't care what you think of me for saying so. It's the truth. You've +deceived her, neglected her, bullied her. Deny it if you can! Oh, no, +this isn't what she has told me. It has been as plain as daylight. I +couldn't have avoided knowing it. You made her your wife, Heaven knows +why. You probably cared for her in your own brutal fashion. But you have +never taken the trouble to make her care for you. You never go out with +her. You never consider her in any way. You see her wretched, ill +almost, under your eyes; and instead of putting it down to your own +confounded churlishness, you turn round and insult me for behaving +decently to her. There! I have done. You can kick me out of the house as +soon as you like. But you won't find it so easy to forget what I've +said. You know in your heart that it's the truth." + +Archie ended his vigorous speech with the full expectation of being made +to pay the penalty by means of a damaged skin. + +Wingarde's face was uncompromising. It told nothing of his mood during +the heavy silence that followed. It was, therefore, a considerable +shock when he abruptly surrendered the citadel without striking a single +blow. + +"I am much obliged to you, Neville," he said very quietly. "And I beg to +apologize for a most unworthy suspicion. Will you shake hands?" + +Archie tumbled off his high horse with more speed than elegance. He +thrust out his hand with an inarticulate murmur of assent. Perhaps after +all the fellow had been no worse than an unmannerly bear. The next +minute he was discussing politics with the monster he had dared to beard +in his own den. + +When Nina saw her husband again he treated her with a courtesy so +scrupulous that she felt the miserable scourge of her uncertainty at +work again. She would have given much to have possessed the key to his +real feelings. With regard to his establishment of the Wade Home, he +gave her the briefest explanation. He had been originally intended for a +doctor, he said, had passed his medical examinations, and been qualified +to practise. Then, at the last minute, a chance opening had presented +itself, and he had gone into finance instead. + +"After that," he somewhat sarcastically said, "I gave myself up to the +all absorbing business of money-making. And doctoring became merely my +fad, my amusement, my recreation--whatever you please to call it." + +"I wish you had told me," Nina said, in a low voice. + +At which remark he merely shrugged his shoulders, making no rejoinder. + +She felt hurt by his manner and said no more. Only later there came to +her the memory of the man she feared, standing in the doorway of the +matron's room with a little child in his arms. Somehow that picture was +very vividly impressed upon her mind. + + + + +XI + +MONEY'S NOT EVERYTHING + + +"What! You are coming too?" + +Nina stopped short on her way to the car and gazed at her husband in +amazement. + +He had returned early from the City, and she now met him dressed to +attend a garden-party whither she herself was going. + +He bent his head in answer to her surprised question. + +"I shall give myself the pleasure of accompanying you," he said, with +much formality. + +She coloured and bit her lip. Swift as evil came the thought that he +resented her intimacy with Archie and was determined to frustrate any +attempt on their part to secure a _tête-à-tête_. + +"You take great care of me," she said, with a bitter little smile. + +Wingarde made no response; his face was quite inscrutable. + +They scarcely spoke during the drive, and she kept her face averted. +Only when he held out his hand to assist her to alight she met his eye +for an instant and wondered vaguely at the look he gave her. + +The party was a large one; the lawns were crowded. Nina took the first +opportunity that offered to slip away from him, for she felt hopelessly +ill at ease in his company. The sensation of being watched that had +oppressed her during her brief honeymoon had reawakened. + +Archie presently joined her. + +"Did I see the hero of the Crawley gold field just now?" he asked. "Or +was it hallucination?" + +Nina looked at him with a very bored expression. + +"Oh, yes, my husband is here," she said. "I suppose you had better not +stay with me or he will come up and be rude to you." + +Archie chuckled. + +"Not he! We understand one another," he said lightly. "But, I say, what +an impostor the fellow is! Everyone knows about Dr. Wade, but no one +connects him in the smallest degree with Hereford Wingarde. It shouldn't +be allowed to go on. You ought to tell the town-crier." + +Nina tried to laugh, but it was a somewhat dismal effort. + +"Come along!" said Archie cheerily. "There's my mother over there; she +has been wondering where you were." + +Nina went with him with a nervous wonder if Hereford were still watching +her, but she saw nothing of him. + +The afternoon wore away in music and gaiety. A great many of her +acquaintances were present, and to Nina the time passed quickly. + +She was sitting in a big marquee drinking the tea that Archie had +brought her when she next saw her husband. By chance she discovered him +talking with a man she did not know, not ten yards from her. The tent +was fairly full, and the buzz of conversation was continuous. + +Nina glanced at him from time to time with a curious sense of +uneasiness, and an unaccountable desire to detach him from his +acquaintance grew gradually upon her. + +The latter was a heavy-browed man with queer, furtive eyes. As Nina +stealthily watched them she saw that this man was restless and agitated. +Her husband's face was turned from her, but his attitude was one of +careless ease, into which his big limbs dropped when he was at leisure. + +Later she never knew by what impulse she acted. It was as if a voice +suddenly cried aloud in her heart that Wingarde was in deadly danger. +She gave Archie her cup and rose. + +"Just a moment!" she said hurriedly. "I see Hereford over there." + +She moved swiftly in the direction of the two men. There was disaster +in the air. She seemed to breathe it as she drew near. Her husband +straightened himself before she reached him, and half turned with his +contemptuous laugh. The next instant Nina saw his companion's hand whip +something from behind him. She shrieked aloud and sprang forward like a +terrified animal. The man's eyes maddened her more than the deadly +little weapon that flashed into view in his right hand. + +There followed prompt upon her cry the sharp explosion of a +revolver-shot, and then the din of a panic-stricken crowd. + +But Nina did not share the panic. She had flung herself in front of her +husband, had flung her whole weight upon the upraised arm that had +pointed the revolver and borne it downwards with all her strength. Those +who saw her action compared it later with the furious attack of a +tigress defending her young. + +It was all over in a few brief seconds. Men crowded round and +overpowered her adversary. Someone took the frenzied girl by the +shoulders and forced her to relinquish her clutch. + +She turned and looked straight into Wingarde's face, and at the sight +her nerves gave way and she broke into hysterical sobbing, though she +knew that he was safe. + +He put his arm around her and led her from the stifling tent. People +made way for them. Only their hostess and Archie Neville followed. + +Outside on the lawn, away from the buzzing multitude, Nina began to +recover herself. Archie brought a chair, and she dropped into it, but +she held fast to Wingarde's arm, beseeching him over and over again not +to leave her. + +Wingarde stooped over her, supporting her; but he found nothing to say +to her. He briefly ordered Archie to fetch some water, and made request +to his hostess, almost equally brief, that their car might be called in +readiness for departure. But his manner was wholly free from agitation. + +"My wife will recover better at home," he said, and the lady of the +house went away with a good deal of tact to give the order herself. + +Left alone with him, Nina still clung to her husband; but she grew +rapidly calmer in his quiet hold. After a moment he spoke to her. + +"I wonder how you knew," he said. + +Nina leant her head against him like an exhausted child. + +"I saw it coming," she said. "It was in his eyes--mad hatred. I knew he +was going to--to kill you if he could." + +She did not want to meet his eyes, but he gently compelled her. + +"And so you saved my life," he said in a quiet tone. + +"I had to," she said faintly. + +Archie here reappeared with a glass of water. + +"The fellow is in a fit," he reported. "They are taking him away. Jove, +Wingarde! You ought to be a dead man. If Nina hadn't spoilt that shot--" + +Nina was shuddering, and he broke off. + +"You'd better give up cornering gold fields," he said lightly. "It seems +he was nearly ruined over your last _coup_. You may do that sort of +thing once too often, don't you know. I shouldn't chance another throw." + +Nina stood up shakily and looked at her husband. + +"If you only would give it up!" she said, with trembling vehemence. +"I--I hate money!" + +Wingarde made no response; but Archie instantly took her up. + +"You only hate money for what it can't buy," he said. "You probably +expect too much from it. Don't blame money for that." + +Nina uttered a tremulous laugh that sounded strangely passionate. + +"You're quite right," she said. "Money's not everything. I have weighed +it in the balance and found it wanting." + +"Yes," Wingarde said in a peculiar tone. "And so have I." + + + + +XII + +AFTERWARDS--LOVE + + +An overwhelming shyness possessed Nina that night. She dined alone with +her husband, and found his silences even more oppressive than usual. +Yet, when she rose from the table, an urgent desire to keep him within +call impelled her to pause. + +"Shall you be late to-night?" she asked him, stopping nervously before +him, as he stood by the open door. + +"I am not going out to-night," he responded gravely." + +"Oh!" Nina hesitated still. She was trembling slightly. "Then--I shall +see you again?" she said. + +He bent his head. + +"I shall be with you in ten minutes," he replied. + +And she passed out quickly. + +The night was still and hot. She went into her own little sitting-room +and straight to the open window. Her heart was beating very fast as she +stood and looked across the quiet square. The roar of London hummed +busily from afar. She heard it as one hears the rushing of unseen water +among the hills. + +There was no one moving in the square. The trees in the garden looked +dim and dreamlike against a red-gold sky. + +Suddenly in the next house, from a room with an open window, there rose +the sound of a woman's voice, tender as the night. It reached the girl +who stood waiting in the silence. The melody was familiar to her, and +she leant forward breathlessly to catch the words: + + Shadows and mist and night, + Darkness around the way; + Here a cloud and there a star; + Afterwards, Day! + +There came a pause and the soft notes of a piano. Nina stood with +clasped hands, waiting for the second verse. Her cheeks were wet. + +It came, slow and exquisitely pure, as if an angel had drawn near to the +turbulent earth with a message of healing: + + Sorrow and grief and tears, + Eyes vainly raised above; + Here a thorn and there a rose; + Afterwards, Love! + +Nina turned from the open window. She was groping, for her eyes were +full of tears. From the doorway a man moved quietly to meet her. + +"Hereford!" she said in a broken whisper, and went straight into his +arms. + +He held her fast, so fast that she felt his heart beating against her +bowed head. But it was many seconds before he spoke. + +"Do you remember the wishing-gate, Nina?" he said, speaking softly. "And +how you asked for a Deliverer?" + +She stretched up her arms to clasp his neck without lifting her head. +She was crying and could not answer him. + +He put his hand upon her hair and she felt it tremble. + +"Has the Deliverer come to you, dear?" he asked her very tenderly. + +He felt for her face in the darkness, and turned it slowly upwards. She +did not resist him though she knew well what was coming. Rather she +yielded to his touch with a sudden, passionate willingness. And so their +lips met in the first kiss that had ever passed between them. + +Thus there came a Deliverer more potent than death into the heart of the +girl who had married for money, and made its surrender sweet. + + + + +The Prey of the Dragon + +I + + +"Ah! She's off!" + +A deafening blast came from the great steamship's siren, and a long sigh +went up from the crowd upon the quay. Someone raised a cheer that was +quickly drowned in the noise of escaping steam. Very slowly, almost +imperceptibly, the vessel began to move. + +A black gap appeared, and widened between her and the wharf till it +became a stretch of grey water veiled in the dank fog of a murky sea. +The fog was everywhere, floating in wreaths upon the oily swell, +blotting out all distant objects, making vague those that were near. +Very soon the crowd on the shore was swallowed up and the great vessel +was heading for the mouth, of the harbour and the wide loneliness +beyond. + +Sybil Denham hid her face in her hands for a moment and shivered. There +was something terrible to her in the thought of those thousands of miles +to be traversed alone. It cowed her. It appalled her. + +Yet when she looked up again her eyes were brave. She stood committed +now to this great step, and she was resolved to take it with a high +courage. Whatever lay before her, she must face it now without +shrinking. Yet it was horribly lonely. She turned from the deck-rail +with nervous haste. + +The next instant she caught her foot against a coil of rope and fell +headlong, with a violence that almost stunned her. A moment she lay, +then, gasping, began to raise herself. + +But as she struggled to her knees strong hands lifted her, and a man's +voice said gruffly: + +"Are you hurt?" + +She found herself in the grasp of a powerful giant with the physique of +a prize-fighter and a dark face with lowering brows that seemed to wear +an habitual scowl. + +She was too staggered to speak; the fall had unnerved her. She put her +hand vaguely behind her, feeling for the rail, looking up at him with +piteous, quivering lips. + +"You should look where you are going," he said, with scant sympathy. +"Perhaps you will another time." + +She found the rail, leaned upon it, then turned her back upon him +suddenly and burst into tears which she was too shaken to restrain. She +thought he would go away, hoped that he would; but he remained, standing +in stolid silence till she managed in a measure to regain her +self-control. + +"Where did you hurt yourself?" he asked then. + +She struggled with herself, and answered him. "I--I am not hurt." + +"Then what are you crying for?" + +The words sounded more like a rude retort than a question. + +She found them unanswerable, and suddenly, while she still stood +battling with her tears, something in the utterance touched her sense of +humour. She gulped down a sob, and gave a little strangled laugh. + +"I don't quite know," she said, drying her eyes. "Thank you for picking +me up." + +"I should have tumbled over you if I hadn't," he responded. + +Again her sense of humour quivered, finally dispelling all desire to +cry. She turned a little. + +"I'm glad you didn't!" she said with fervour. + +"So am I." + +The curt rejoinder cut clean through her depression. She broke into a +gay, spontaneous laugh. + +But the next instant she checked herself and apologized. + +"Forgive me! I'm very rude." + +"What's the joke?" he asked. + +She answered him in a voice that still quivered a little with suppressed +merriment. + +"There isn't a joke. I--I often laugh at nothing. It's a silly habit of +mine." + +His moody silence seemed to endorse this remark. She became silent also, +and after a moment made a shy movement to depart. + +He turned then and looked at her, looked full and straight into her +small, sallow face, with its shadowy eyes and pointed features, as if he +would register her likeness upon his memory. + +She gave him a faint, friendly smile. + +"I'm going below now," she said. "Good-bye!" + +He raised his hat abruptly. His head was massive as a bull's. + +"Mind how you go!" he said briefly. + +And Sybil went, feeling like a child that has been rebuked. + + + + +II + + +"Do you always walk along with your eyes shut?" asked Brett Mercer. + +Sybil gave a great start, and saw him lounging immediately in her path. +The days that had elapsed since their first meeting had placed them upon +a more or less intimate footing. He had assumed the right to speak to +her from the outset--this giant who had picked her up like an infant and +scolded her for crying. + +It was a hot morning in the Indian Ocean. She had not slept during the +night, and she was feeling weary and oppressed. But, with a woman's +instinctive reserve, she forced a hasty smile. She would not have +stopped to speak had he not risen and barred her progress. + +"Sit here!" he said. + +She looked up at him with refusal on her lips; but he forestalled her +by laying an immense hand on her shoulder and pressing her down into the +chair he had just vacated. This accomplished, he turned and hung over +the rail in silence. It seemed to be the man's habit at all times to do +rather than to speak. + +Sybil sat passive, feeling rather helpless, dumbly watching the great +lounging figure, and wondered how she should escape without hurting his +feelings. + +Suddenly, without turning his head, he spoke to her. + +"I suppose if I ask what's the matter you'll tell me to go to the +devil." + +The remark, though characteristic, was totally unexpected. Sybil stared +at him for a moment. Then, as once before, his rude address set her +sense of humour a-quivering. Depressed, miserable though she was, she +began to laugh. + +He turned, and looked at her sideways. + +"No doubt I am very funny," he observed dryly. + +She checked herself with an effort. + +"Oh, I know I'm horrid to laugh. But it's not that I am ungrateful. +There is nothing really the matter. I--I'm feeling rather like a stray +cat this morning, that's all." + +The smile still lingered about her lips as she said it. Somehow, telling +this taciturn individual of her trouble deprived it of much of its +bitterness. + +Mercer displayed no sympathy. He did not even continue to look at her. +But she did not feel that his impassivity arose from lack of interest. + +Suddenly: + +"Is it true that you are going to be married as soon as you land?" he +asked. + +Sybil was sitting forward with her chin in her hands. + +"Quite true," she said; adding, half to herself, "so far as I know." + +"What do you mean by that?" He turned squarely and looked down at her. + +She hesitated a little, but eventually she told him. + +"I thought there would have been a letter for me from Robin at Aden, but +there wasn't. It has worried me rather." + +"Robin?" he said interrogatively. + +"Robin Wentworth, the man I am going to marry," she explained. "He has a +farm at Bowker Creek, near Rollandstown. But he will meet me at the +docks. He has promised to do that. Still, I thought I should have heard +from him again." + +"But you will hear at Colombo," said Mercer. + +She raised her eyes--- those soft, dark eyes that were her only beauty. + +"I may," she said. + +"And if you don't?" + +She smiled faintly. + +"I suppose I shall worry some more." + +"Are you sure the fellow is worth it?" asked Mercer unexpectedly. + +"We have been engaged for three years," she said, "though we have been +separated." + +He frowned. + +"A man can alter a good deal in three years." + +She did not attempt to dispute the point. It was one of the many doubts +that tormented her in moments of depression. + +"And what will you do if he doesn't turn up?" proceeded Mercer. + +She gave a sharp shiver. + +"Don't--don't frighten me!" she said. + +Mercer was silent. He thrust one hand into his pocket, and absently +jingled some coins. He began to whistle under his breath, and then, +awaking to the fact, abruptly stopped himself. + +"If I were in your place," he said at length, "I should get off at +Colombo and sail home again on the next boat." + +Sybil shook her head slowly but emphatically. + +"I am quite sure you wouldn't. For one thing you would be too poor, and +for another you would be too proud." + +"Are you very poor?" he asked her point blank. + +She nodded. + +"And very proud." + +"And your people?" + +"Only my father is living, and I have quarrelled with him." + +"Can't you make it up?" + +"No," she said sharply and emphatically. "I could never return to my +father. There is no room for me now that he has married again. I would +sooner sell matches at a street corner than go back to what I have +left." + +"So that's it, is it?" said Mercer. He was looking at her very +attentively with his brows drawn down. "You are not happy at home, so +you are plunging into matrimony to get away from it all." + +"We have been engaged for three years," she protested, flushing. + +"You said that before," he remarked. "It seems to be your only argument, +and a confoundedly shaky one at that." + +She laughed rather unsteadily. + +"You are not very encouraging." + +"No," said Mercer. + +He was still looking at her somewhat sternly. Involuntarily almost she +avoided his eyes. + +"Perhaps," she said, with a touch of wistfulness, "when you see my +_fiancé_ you will change your mind." + +He turned from her with obvious impatience. + +"Perhaps you will change yours," he said. + +And with that surly rejoinder of his the conversation ended. The next +moment he moved abruptly away, leaving her in possession. + + +III + +It was early morning when they came at last into port. When Sybil +appeared on deck she found it crowded with excited men, and the hubbub +was deafening. A multitude of small boats buzzed to and fro on the +tumbling waters below them, and she expected every instant to see one +swamped as the great ship floated majestically through the throng. + +She had anticipated a crowd of people on the wharf to witness their +arrival, but the knot of men gathered there scarcely numbered a score. +She scanned them eagerly, but it took only a very few seconds to +convince her that Robin Wentworth was not among them. And there had been +no letter from him at Colombo. + +"They don't allow many people on the wharf," said Mercer's voice behind +her. "There will be more on the other side of the Customs house." + +She looked up at him, bravely smiling, though her heart was throbbing +almost to suffocation and she could not speak a word. + +He passed on into the crowd and she lost sight of him. + +There followed a delay of nearly half-an-hour, during which she stood +where she was in the glaring sunshine, dumbly watching. The town, with +its many buildings, its roar of traffic; the harbour, with its ships and +its hooting sirens; the hot sky, the water that shone like molten brass; +all were stamped upon her aching brain with nightmare distinctness. She +felt as one caught in some pitiless machine that would crush her to +atoms before she could escape. + +The gangways were fixed at last, and there was a general movement. She +went with the crowd, Mercer's last words still running through her brain +with a reiteration that made them almost meaningless. On the other side +of the Customs house! Of course, of course she would find Robin there, +waiting for her! + +She said it to herself over and over as she stepped ashore, and she +began to picture their meeting. And then, suddenly, an awful doubt +assailed her. She could not recall his features. His image would not +rise before her. The memory of his face had passed completely from her +mind. It had never done so before, and she was scared. But she strove to +reassure herself with the thought that she must surely recognize him the +moment her eyes beheld him. It was but a passing weakness this, born of +her agitation. Of course, she would know him, and he would know her, +too, mightily though she felt she had changed during those three years +that they had not met. + +She moved on as one in a dream, still with that nightmare of oppression +at her heart. The crowd of hurrying strangers bewildered her. Her +loneliness appalled her. She had an insane longing to rush back to her +cabin and hide herself. But she pressed on, on into the Customs house, +following her little pile of luggage that looked so ludicrously +insignificant among all the rest. + +The babel here was incessant. She felt as if her senses would leave her. +Piteously, like a lost child, she searched every face within her scope +of vision; but she searched in vain for the face of a friend. + +Later, she found herself following an official out into an open space +like a great courtyard, that was crammed with vehicles. He was wheeling +her luggage on a trolley. Suddenly he faced round and asked her whither +she wanted to go. + +She looked at him helplessly. "I am expecting someone to meet me," she +said. + +He stared at her in some perplexity, and finally suggested that he +should set down her luggage and leave her to wait where she was. + +To this she agreed, and when he had gone she seated herself on her cabin +trunk and faced the situation. She was utterly alone, with scarcely any +money in her possession, and no knowledge whatever of the place in which +she found herself. Robin would, of course, come sooner or later, but +till he came she was helpless. + +What should she do, she wondered desperately? What could she do? All +about her, people were coming and going. She watched them dizzily. There +was not one of them who seemed to be alone. The heat and glare was +intense. The clatter of wheels sounded in her ears like the roar of +great waters. She felt as if she were sinking down, down through endless +turmoil into a void unspeakable. + +How long she had sat there she could not have said. It seemed to her +hours when someone came up to her with a firm and purposeful stride, +and stooping, touched her shoulder. She looked up dazedly, and saw +Brett Mercer. + +He said something to her, but it was as if he spoke in an unknown +language. She had not the faintest idea what he meant. His face swam +before her eyes. She shook her head at him vaguely, with quivering lips. + +He stooped lower. She felt his arm encircle her, felt him draw her to +her feet. Again he seemed to be speaking, but his words eluded her. The +roar of the great waters filled her brain. Like a lost child she turned +and clung to the supporting arm. + + + +IV + + +Later, it seemed to her that her senses must have deserted her for a +time, for she never remembered what happened to her next. A multitude of +impressions crowded upon her, but she knew nothing with distinctness +till she woke to find herself lying in a room with green blinds +half-drawn, with Mercer stooping over her, compelling her to drink a +nauseating mixture in a wine-glass. + +As soon as full consciousness returned to her she refused to take +another drop. + +"What is it? It--it's horrible." + +"It's the best stuff you ever tasted," he told her bluntly. "You needn't +get up. You are all right as you are." + +But she sat up, nevertheless, and looked at him confusedly. "Where am +I?" she said. + +He seated himself on the corner of a table that creaked loudly beneath +his weight. It seemed to her that he looked even more massive than +usual--a bed-rock of strength. His eyes met hers with a certain mastery. + +"You are in a private room in a private hotel," he said. "I brought you +here." + +"In a hotel!" She stared at him for a moment, stricken silent by the +information; then quickly she rose to her feet. "Oh, but I--I can't +stay!" she said. "I have no money." + +"I know," said Mercer. He remained seated on the table edge, his hands +in his pockets, his eyes unwaveringly upon her. "That's where I come +in," he told her, with a touch of aggressiveness, as though he sighted +difficulties ahead. "I have money--plenty of it. And you are to make use +of it." + +She stood motionless, gazing at him. His eyes never left her. She could +not quite fathom his look, but it was undoubtedly stern. + +"Mr. Mercer," she said at last, rather piteously, "I--indeed I am +grateful to you, much more than grateful. But--I can't!" + +"Rubbish!" said Mercer curtly. "If you weren't a girl, I should tell you +not to be a fool!" + +She was clasping and unclasping her hands. It was to be a battle of +wills. His rough speech revealed this to her. And she was ill-equipped +for the conflict. His dominant personality seemed to deprive her of even +the desire to fight. She remembered, with a sudden, burning flush, that +she had clung to him only a little while before in her extremity of +loneliness. Doubtless he remembered it too. + +Yet she braced herself for the struggle. He could not, after all, compel +her to accept his generosity. + +"I am sorry," she said; "I am very sorry. But, you know, there is +another way in which you can help me." + +"What is that?" said Mercer. + +"If you could tell me of some respectable lodging," she said. "I have +enough for one night if the charges are moderate. And even after +that--if Robin doesn't come--I have one or two little things I might +sell. He is sure to come soon." + +"And if he doesn't?" said Mercer. + +Her fingers gripped each other. + +"I am sure he will," she said. + +"And if he doesn't?" said Mercer again. + +His persistence became suddenly intolerable. She turned on him with +something like anger--the anger of desperation. + +"Why will you persist in trying to frighten me? I know he will come. I +know he will!" + +"You don't know," said Mercer. "I am not frightening you. You were +afraid before you ever spoke to me." + +He spoke harshly, without pity, and still his eyes dwelt resolutely upon +her. He seemed to be watching her narrowly. + +She did not attempt to deny his last words. She passed them by. + +"I shall write to Bowker Creek. He may have mistaken the date." + +"He may," said Mercer, in a tone she did not understand. "But, in the +meantime, why should you turn your back upon the only friend you have at +hand? It seems to me that you are making a fuss over nothing. You have +been brought up to it, I daresay; but it isn't the fashion here. We are +taught to take things as they come, and make the best of 'em. That's +what you have got to do. It'll come easier after a bit." + +"It will never come easily to me to--to live on charity," she protested, +rather incoherently. + +"But you can pay me back," said Brett Mercer. + +She shook her head. + +"Not if--if Robin----" + +"I tell you, you can!" he insisted stubbornly. + +"How?" She turned suddenly and faced him. There was a hint of defiance, +or, rather, daring, in her manner. She met his look with unswerving +resolution. "If there is a good chance of my being able to do that," she +said, "even if--even if Robin fails me, I will accept your help." + +"You will be able to do it," said Mercer. + +"How?" she asked again. + +"I will tell you," he said, "when you are quite sure that Robin has +failed you." + +"Tell me now!" she pleaded. "If it is some work that you can find for me +to do--and I will do anything in the world that I can--it would be such +a help to me to know of it. Won't you tell me what you mean? Please do!" + +"No," said Mercer. "It is only a chance, and you may refuse it. I can't +say. You may feel it too much for you to attempt. If you do, you will +have to endure the obligation. But you shall have the chance of paying +me back if you really want it." + +"And you won't tell me what it is?" she said. + +"No." He got to his feet, and stood looking down at her. "I can't tell +you now. I am not in a position to do so. I am going away for a few +days. You will wait here till I come back?" + +"Unless Robin comes," she said. "And then, of course, I would leave you +a message." + +He nodded. + +"Otherwise you will stay here?" + +"If you are sure you wish it," she said. + +"I do. And I am going to leave you this." He laid a packet upon the +table. "It is better for you to be independent, for the sake of +appearances." His iron mouth twitched a little. "Now, good-bye! You +won't be more miserable than you can help?" + +She smiled up at him bravely. + +"No; I won't be miserable. How long shall you be gone?" + +"Possibly a week, possibly a little more." + +"But you will come back?" she said quickly, almost beseechingly. + +"I shall certainly come back," he said. + +With the words his great hand closed firmly upon hers, and she had a +curious, vagrant feeling of insecurity that she could not attempt to +analyse. Then abruptly he let her go. An instant his eyes still held +her, and then, before she could begin to thank him, he turned to the +door and was gone. + + + + +V + + +For ten days, that seemed to her like as many years, Sybil Denham waited +in the shelter into which she had been so relentlessly thrust for an +answer to her letter to Bowker Creek, and during the whole of that time +she lived apart, exchanging scarcely a word with any one. Every day, +generally twice a day, she went down to the wharf; but, she could not +bring herself to linger. The loneliness that perpetually dogged her +footsteps was almost poignant there, and sometimes she came away with +panic at her heart. Suppose Mercer also should forsake her! She had not +the faintest idea what she would do if he did. And yet, whenever she +contemplated his return, she was afraid. There was something about the +man that she had never fathomed--something ungovernable, something +brutal--from which instinctively she shrank. + +On the evening of the tenth day she received her answer--a letter from +Rollandstown by post. The handwriting she knew so well sprawled over the +envelope which her trembling fingers could scarcely open. Relief was +her first sensation, and after it came a nameless anxiety. Why had he +written? How was it--how was it that he had not come to her? + +Trembling all over, she unfolded the letter, and read: + +"Dear Sybil,--I am infernally sorry to have brought you out for nothing, +for I find that I cannot marry you after all. Things have gone wrong +with me of late, and it would be downright folly for me to think of +matrimony under existing circumstances. I am leaving this place almost +at once, so there is no chance of hearing from you again. I hope you +will get on all right. Anyhow, you are well rid of me.--Yours, + +"ROBIN." + +Beneath the signature, scribbled very faintly, were the words, "I'm +sorry, old girl; I'm sorry." + +She read the letter once, and once only; but every word stamped itself +indelibly upon her memory, every word bit its way into her consciousness +as though it had been scored upon her quivering flesh. Robin had failed +her. That ghastly presentiment of hers had come true. She was +alone--alone, and sinking in that awful whirlpool of desolation into +which for so long she had felt herself being drawn. The great waters +swirled around her, rising higher, ever higher. And she was alone. + +Hours passed. She sat in a sort of trance of horror, Robin's letter +spread out beneath her nerveless fingers. She did not ask herself what +she should do. The blow had stunned all her faculties. She could only +sit there face to face with despair, staring blind-eyed before her, +motionless, cold as marble to the very heart of her. She fancied--she +even numbly hoped--that she was going to die. + +She never heard repeated knocking at her door, or remembered that it was +locked, till a man's shoulder burst it open. Then, indeed, she turned +stiffly and looked at the intruder. + +"You!" she said. + +She had forgotten Brett Mercer. + +He came forward quickly, stooped and looked at her; then went down on +his knee and thrust his arm about her. + +She sat upright in his hold, not yielding an inch, not looking at him. +Her eyes were glassy. + +For a little he held her; then gently but insistently he drew her to +him, pillowed her head against him, and began to rub her icy cheek. + +"I've left you alone too long," he said. + +She suffered him dumbly, scarcely knowing what she did. But presently +the blood that seemed to have frozen in her veins began to circulate +again, and the stiffness passed from her limbs. She stirred in his hold +like a frightened bird. + +"I'm sorry!" she faltered. + +He let her draw away from him, but he kept his arm about her. She looked +at him, and found him intently watching her. Her eyes fell, and rested +upon the letter which lay crumpled under her hands. + +"A dreadful thing has happened to me," she said. "Robin has written to +say--to say--that he cannot marry me!" + +"What is there dreadful in that?" said Mercer. + +She did not look up, though his words startled her a little. + +"It--has made me feel like--like a stray cat again," she said, with the +ghost of a smile about her lips. "Of course, I know I'm foolish. There +must be plenty of ways in which a woman can earn her living here. You +yourself were thinking of something that I might do, weren't you?" + +"I was," said Mercer. He laid his great hand upon hers, paused a moment, +then deliberately drew her letter from beneath them and crushed it into +a ball. "But I want you to tell me something before we go into that. The +truth, mind! It must be the truth!" + +"Yes?" she questioned, with her head bent. + +"You must look at me," he said, "or I shan't believe you." + +There was something Napoleonic about his words which placed them wholly +beyond the sphere of offensiveness. Slowly she turned her head and +looked him in the eyes. + +He took his arm abruptly away from her. + +"Heavens!" he said. "How miserable you look! Are you very miserable?" + +"I'm not very happy," she said. + +"But you always smile," he said, "even when you're crying. Ah, that's +better! I scarcely knew you before. Now, tell me! Were you in love with +the fellow?" + +She shrank a little at the direct question. He put his hand on her +shoulder. His touch was imperious. + +"Just a straight answer!" he said. "Were you?" + +She hesitated, longing yet fearing to lower her eyes. + +"I--I don't quite know," she said at length. "I used to think so." + +"You haven't thought so of late?" His eyes searched hers unsparingly, +with stern insistence. + +"I haven't been sure," she admitted. + +He released her and rose. + +"You won't regret him for long," he said. "In fact, you'll live to be +glad that you didn't have him!" + +She did not contradict him. He was too positive for that. She watched +him cross the room with a certain arrogance, and close the half-open +door. As he returned she stood up. + +"Can we get to business now?" she said. + +"Business?" said Mercer. + +With a steadiness that she found somewhat difficult of accomplishment +she made reply: + +"You thought you could find me employment--some means by which I could +pay you back." + +"You still want to pay me back?" he said. + +She glanced up half nervously. + +"I know that I can never repay your kindness to me," she said. "So far +as that goes, I am in your debt for always. But--the money part I must +and will, somehow, return." + +"Being the most important part?" he suggested, halting in front of her. + +"I didn't mean to imply that," she answered. "I think you know which I +put first. But I can only do what I can, and money is repayable." + +"So is kindness," said Mercer. + +Again shyly she glanced at him. + +"I am afraid I don't quite understand." + +He sat down once more upon the table edge to bring his eyes on a level +with hers. + +"There's nothing to be scared about," he said. + +She smiled a little. + +"Oh, no; I am not scared. I believe you think me even more foolish than +I actually am." + +"No, I don't," said Mercer. "If I did, I shouldn't say what I am going +to say. As it is, you are not to answer till you have counted up to +fifty. Is that a bargain?" + +"Yes," she said, beginning to feel more curious than afraid. + +"Here goes then," said Brett Mercer. "I want a wife, and I want you. +Will you marry me? Now, shut your eyes and count!" + +But Sybil disobeyed him. She opened her eyes wide, and stared at him in +breathless amazement. + +Mercer stared back with absolute composure. + +"I'm in dead earnest," he told her. "Never made a joke in my life. Of +course, you'll refuse me. I know that. But I shan't give you up if you +do. If you don't marry me, you won't marry any one else, for I'll lick +any other man off the ground. I come first with you now, and I mean to +stay first." + +He stopped, for amazement had given place to something else on her face. +She looked at him queerly, as if irresolute for a few seconds; but she +no longer shrank from meeting his eyes. And then quite suddenly she +broke into her funny little laugh. + +"Amusing, is it?" he said. + +She turned sharply away, with one hand pressed to her mouth, obviously +struggling with herself. + +At last: + +"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to laugh really--really. Only +you--you're such a monster, and I'm such a shrimp! Please don't be vexed +with me!" + +She put out her hand to him, without turning. + +He did not take it at once. When he did, he drew her round to face him. +There was an odd restraint about the action, determined though it was. + +"Well?" he said gruffly. "Which is it to be? Am I to go to the devil, or +stay with you?" + +She looked down at the great hand that held her. She was still half +laughing, though her lips quivered. + +"I couldn't possibly marry you yet," she said. + +"No. To-morrow!" said Mercer. + +She shook her head. + +"Not even then." + +"Listen!" he said. "If you won't marry me at once you will have to come +with me without. For I am going up-country to see my farms, and I don't +mean to leave you here." + +"Can't I wait till you come back?" she said. + +"What for?" + +He leaned forward a little, trying to peer under her drooping lids. She +was trembling slightly. + +"I think you forget," she said, "that--that we hardly know each other." + +"How are we to get any nearer if I'm up-country and you're here?" he +said. + +She looked at him unwillingly. + +"You may change your mind when you have had time to think it over," she +said, colouring deeply. + +"I'll take the risk," said Mercer. "Besides"--she saw his grim smile for +an instant--"I've been thinking of nothing else since I met you." + +She started a little. + +"I--I had no idea." + +"No," he said; "I saw that. You needn't be afraid of me on that account. +It ought to have the opposite effect." + +"I am not afraid of you," she said, with a certain dignity. "But I, +too, should have time for consideration." + +"A woman doesn't need it," he asserted. "She can make up her mind at a +moment's notice." + +"And is often sorry for ever afterwards," she said smiling faintly. + +He thrust out his jaw, as if challenging her. + +"You think I shall make you sorry?" + +"No," she answered. "But I want to be quite sure." + +"Which is another reason for marrying me to-morrow," he said. "I'm not +going to let you wait. It's only a whim. You weren't created to live +alone, and there is no reason why you should. I am here, and you will +have to take me." + +"Whether I want to or not?" she said. + +"Don't you want to?" he questioned. + +She was silent. + +He lifted the hand he held and looked at it. He spanned her wrist with +his finger and thumb. + +"That's reason enough for me," he abruptly said. "You are nothing but +skin and bone. You've been starving yourself." + +"I haven't," she protested. "I haven't, indeed." + +"I don't believe you," he retorted rudely. "You weren't such a skeleton +as this when I saw you last. Come, what's the good of fighting? You'll +have to give in." + +She smiled again faintly at the rough persuasion in his voice, but still +she hesitated. + +"I shan't eat you, you know," he proceeded, pressing his advantage. "I +shan't do anything you won't like." + +She glanced at him quickly. + +"You mean that?" + +His eyes looked straight back at her. + +"Yes, I mean it." + +"Can I trust you?" she said, almost in a whisper. + +He rose to his full height, and stood before her. And in that moment an +odd little thrill went through her. He was magnificent--the finest man +she had ever seen. She caught her breath a little, feeling awed before +the immensity of his strength. But, very curiously, she no longer felt +afraid. + +"You must ask yourself that question," he said bluntly. "You have my +word." + +And with a gasp she let herself go at last. + +"I will take you on trust," she said. + + + + +VI + + +When Sybil at length travelled up-country with her husband the shearing +season had already commenced. They went by easy stages, for the heat was +great, and she was far from strong. She knew that Mercer was anxious to +reach his property, and she would have journeyed more rapidly if he +would have permitted it, but upon this point he was firm. At every turn +he considered her, and she marvelled at the intuition with which he +divined her unspoken wishes. Curt and rough though he was, his care +surrounded her in a magic circle within which she dwelt at ease. With +all his imperiousness she did not find him domineering, and this fact +was a constant marvel to her, for she knew the mastery of his will. By +some mysterious power he curbed himself, and day by day her confidence +in him grew. + +They accomplished the greater part of the journey by rail, and then when +the railway ended came the long, long ride. They travelled for five +days, spending each night at an inn at some township upon the road. +Through dense stretches of forest, through great tracts of waste +country, and again through miles of parched pasture-land they rode, and +during the whole of that journey Mercer's care never relaxed. She never +found him communicative. He would ride for hours without uttering a +word, but yet she was subtly conscious of his close attention. She knew +that she was never out of his thoughts. + +At the inns at which they rested he always saw himself to her comfort, +and the best room was always placed at her disposal. One thing impressed +her at every halt. The innkeepers one and all stood in awe of him. Not +one of them welcomed him, but not one of them failed to attend with +alacrity to his wants. It puzzled her, for she herself had never found +him really formidable. + +On the last morning of their ride, when they set forth, she surprised a +look of deep compassion in the eyes of the innkeeper's wife as she said +good-bye, and it gave her something of a shock. Why was the woman sorry +for her? Had she heard her story by any strange chance? Or was it for +some other reason? It left an unpleasant impression upon her. She wished +she had not seen it. + +They rode that day almost exclusively through Mercer's property, which +extended for many miles. He was the owner of several farms, two of which +they passed without drawing rein. He was taking her to what he called +the Home Farm, his native place, which he still made his headquarters, +and from which he overlooked the whole of his great property. + +The brief twilight had turned to darkness before they reached it. During +the last half hour Mercer rode with his hand upon Sybil's bridle, and +she was glad to have it there. She was not accustomed to riding in the +dark. Moreover, she was very tired, and when at last they turned in +through an open gateway to one side of which a solitary lantern had been +fixed, she breathed a deep sigh of thankfulness. + +She saw the outline of the house but vaguely, but in two windows lights +were burning, and as they clattered up a door was thrown open, and a man +stood silhouetted for a moment on the threshold. + +"Hullo, Curtis! Here we are!" was Mercer's greeting. "Later than I +intended, but it's a far cry from Wallarroo, and we had to take it +easy." + +"The best way," the other said. + +He went forward and quietly helped Sybil to dismount. He did not speak +to her as he did so, and she wondered a little at the reserve of his +manner. But the next moment she forgot him at the sight of a hideous +young negro who had suddenly appeared at the horses' heads. + +"It's only Beelzebub," said the man at her side, in a tired voice, as if +it were an effort to speak at all. + +She realized that the explanation was intended to be reassuring, and +laughed rather tremulously. Finding Mercer at her side she slipped her +hand into his. + +He gave it a terrific squeeze. "Come inside!" he said. "You are tired." + +They went in, Curtis following. + +In a room with a sanded floor that looked pleasantly homely to her +English eyes a meal was spread. The place and everything it contained +shone in the lamplight. She looked around her with a smile of pleasure, +notwithstanding her weariness. And then her eyes fell upon Curtis, and +found his fixed upon her. + +He averted them instantly, but she had read their expression at a +glance--surprise and compassion--and her heart gave a curious little +throb of dismay. + +She turned nevertheless without a pause to Mercer. + +"Won't you introduce me to your friend?" she said. + +"What?" said Mercer. "Oh, that's Curtis, my foreman. Curtis, this is my +wife." + +Curtis bowed stiffly, but Sybil held out her hand. + +"How nice everything looks!" she said. "I am sure we have you to thank +for it." + +"Beelzebub and me," he said; and again she was struck by the utter lack +of animation in his voice. + +He was a man of about forty, lean and brown, with an unmistakable air of +breeding about him that put her at her ease at once. His quiet manner +was a supreme contrast to Mercer's roughness. She was quite sure that he +was not colonial born. + +He sat at table with them, and waited also, but he did not utter a word +except now and again in answer to some brief query from Mercer. When the +meal was over he cleared the table and disappeared. + +She looked at Mercer in some surprise as the door closed upon him. + +"He's a useful chap," Mercer said. "I'm sorry there isn't a woman in the +house, but you'll find Beelzebub better than a dozen. And this fellow is +always at hand for anything you may want in the evening." + +"He is a gentleman," she said almost involuntarily. + +Mercer looked at her. + +"Do you object to having a gentleman to wait on you?" he asked curtly. + +She did not quite understand his tone, but she was very far just then +from understanding the man himself. His question demanded no answer, and +she gave none. + +After a moment she got up, and, conscious of an oppression in the +atmosphere, took off her hat and pushed back the hair from her face. +She knew that Mercer was watching her, felt his eyes upon her, and +wished intensely that he would speak, but he did not utter a word. There +seemed to her to be something stubborn in his silence, and it affected +her strangely. + +For a while she stood also silent, then suddenly with a little smile she +looked across at him. + +"Aren't you going to show me everything?" she said. + +"Not to-night," he said. "I will show you your bedroom if you are too +tired to stay up any longer." + +She considered the matter for a few seconds, then quietly crossed the +room to his side. She laid a hand that trembled slightly on his +shoulder. + +"You have been very good to me," she said. + +He stiffened at her touch. + +"You had better go to bed," he said gruffly, and made as if he would +rise. + +But she checked him with a dignity all her own. + +"Wait, please; I want to speak to you." + +"Not to thank me, I hope," he said. + +"No, not to thank you." She paused an instant, and seemed to hesitate. +"I--I really want to ask you something," she said at length. + +He reached up and removed her hand from his shoulder. + +"Well?" he questioned. + +"Don't hold me at arms' length!" she pleaded gently. "It makes things so +difficult." + +"What is it you want to know?" he asked without relaxing. + +She stood silent for a few seconds as if summoning all her courage. Then +at length, her voice very low, she spoke. + +"When you said that you wanted me for your wife, did you mean that +you--loved me?" + +He made an abrupt movement, and his fingers closed tightly upon her +wrist. For a moment or more he sat in tense silence, then he got to his +feet. + +"Why do you want to know?" he demanded harshly. + +She stood before him with bent head. + +"Because," she said, and there was a piteous quiver in her voice, "I am +lonely, and I have a very empty heart. And--and--if you love me it will +not frighten me to know it. It will only--make me--glad." + +He put his hand on her shoulder. "Do you know what you are saying?" he +questioned. + +"Yes," she said under her breath. + +"Are you sure?" he persisted. + +She raised her head impulsively, and, with a gesture most winning, most +confident, she stretched up her arms to him. + +"Yes," she said. "I mean it! I mean it! I want--to be loved!" + +His arms were close about her as she ended, and she uttered the last +words chokingly with her face against his breast. The effort had cost +her all her strength, and she clung to him panting, almost fainting, +while panic--wild, unreasoning panic--swept over her. What was this man +to whom she had thus impulsively given herself--this man whom all men +feared? + +Nevertheless, she grew calmer at last, awaking to the fact that though +his hold was tense and passionate, he still retained his self-control. +She commanded herself, and turned her face upwards. + +"Then you do love me?" she said tremulously. + +His eyes shone into hers, red as the inner, intolerable glow of a +furnace. He did not attempt to make reply in words. He seemed at that +moment incapable of speech. He only bent and kissed her fiercely, +burningly, even brutally, upon the lips. And so she had her answer. + + + +VII + + +It was a curious establishment over which Sybil found herself called +upon to preside. The native, Beelzebub, was her only domestic, and, as +Mercer had predicted, she found him very willing if not always +efficient. One thing she speedily discovered regarding him. He went in +deadly fear of his master, and invariably crept about like a whipped +cur in his presence. + +"Why is it?" she said to Curtis once. + +But Curtis only shrugged his shoulders in reply. + +He was a continual puzzle to her, this man. There was no servility about +him, but she had a feeling that he, too, was in some fashion under +Mercer's heel. He made himself exceedingly useful to her in his silent, +unobtrusive way; but he seldom spoke on his own initiative, and it was +some time before she felt herself to be on terms of intimacy with him. +He was an excellent cook; and he and Beelzebub between them made her +duties remarkably light. In fact, she spent most of her time riding with +her husband, who was fully occupied just then in overlooking the +shearers' work. She also was keenly interested, but he never suffered +her to go among the men. Once, when she had grown tired of waiting for +him, and followed him into one of the sheds, he was actually angry with +her--a new experience, which, if it did not seriously scare her, made +her nervous in his presence for some time afterwards. + +She had come to regard him as a man whose will was bound to be +respected, a man who possessed the power of impressing his personality +indelibly upon all with whom he came in contact. There were times when +he touched and set vibrating the very pulse of her being, times when her +heart quivered and expanded in the heat of his passion as a flower that +opens to the sun. But there were also times when he filled her with a +nameless dread, when the very foundations of her confidence were shaken, +and she felt as a prisoner behind iron bars. She did not know him, that +was her trouble. There were in him depths that she could not reach, +could scarcely even realize. He was slow to reveal himself to her, and +she had but the vaguest indications to guide her. She even felt +sometimes that he deliberately kept back from her that which she felt to +be almost the essential part of him. This she knew that time must +remedy. Living his life, she was bound ultimately to know whereof he was +made, and she tried to assure herself that when that knowledge came to +her she would not be dismayed. And yet she had occasional glimpses of +him that made her tremble. + +One evening, after they had spent the entire day in the saddle, he went +after supper to look at one of the horses that was suffering from a +cracked hock. Curtis was busy in the kitchen, and Sybil betook herself +to the step to wait for her husband. She often sat in the starlight +while he smoked his pipe. She knew that he liked to have her there. + +She was drowsy after her long exercise, and must have dozed with her +head against the door-post, when suddenly she became conscious of a +curious sound. It came from the direction of the stable which was on the +other side of the house. But for the absolute stillness of the night she +would not have heard it. She started upright in alarm, and listened +intently. + +It came again--a terrible wailing, unlike anything she had ever heard, +ending in a staccato shriek that made her blood run cold. + +She sprang up and turned into the house, almost running into Curtis, who +had just appeared in the passage behind her. + +"Oh, what is it?" she cried. "What is it? Something terrible is +happening! Did you hear?" + +She would have turned into the kitchen, that being the shortest route to +the stable, but he stretched an arm in front of her. + +"I shouldn't go if I were you," he said. "You can't do any good." + +She stood and stared at him, a ghastly fear clutching her heart. +"What--what do you mean?" she gasped. + +"It's only Beelzebub," he said, "getting hammered for his sins." + +She gripped her hands tightly over her breast. "You mean that--that my +husband--?" + +He nodded. "It won't go on much longer. I should go to bed if I were +you." + +He meant it kindly, but the words sounded to her most hideously callous. +She turned from him, sobbing hysterically, and sprang for the open door. + +The next moment she was running swiftly round the house to the stable. +Turning the corner, she heard a sound like a pistol-shot. It was +followed instantly by a scream so utterly inhuman that even then she +almost wheeled and fled. But she mastered the impulse. She reached the +stable-door, fumbled at the latch, finally burst inwards as it swung +open. + +A lantern hung on a nail immediately within. By its light she discovered +her husband--a gigantic figure--towering over something she could not +see, something that crouched, writhing and moaning, in a corner. He was +armed with a horsewhip, and even as she entered she saw him raise it and +bring it downwards with a horrible precision upon the thing at his feet. +She heard again that awful shriek of anguish, and a sick shudder went +through her. Unconsciously, a cry broke from her own lips, and, as +Mercer's arm went up again, she flung herself forward and tried to catch +it. + +In her agitation she failed. The heavy end of the whip fell upon her +outstretched arm, numbing; it to the shoulder. She heard Mercer utter a +frightful oath, and with a gasp she fell. + + +VIII + +When she came to herself she was lying on her bed. Someone--Curtis--was +bathing her arm in warm water. He did not speak to her or raise his: +eyes from his occupation. She thought he looked very grim. + +"Where is--Brett?" she whispered. + +Curtis did not answer her, but a moment later she looked beyond him and +saw Mercer leaning upon the bed-rail. His eyes were fixed upon her and +held her own. She sought to avoid them, but could not. And suddenly she +knew that he was angry with her, not merely displeased, but furiously +angry. + +She made an effort to rise, but at that Curtis laid a restraining hand +upon her, and spoke. + +"Go away, Mercer!" he said. "Haven't you done harm enough for one +night?" + +The words amazed her. She had never thought that he would dare to use +such a tone to her husband. She trembled for the result, for Mercer's +face just then was terrible, but Curtis did not so much as glance in his +direction. + +Mercer's eyes remained mercilessly fixed upon her. + +"Do you wish me to go?" he said. + +"No," she murmured faintly. + +Her arm was beginning to hurt her horribly, and she shuddered +uncontrollably once or twice. But that unvarying scrutiny was harder to +bear, and at last, in desperation, she made a quivering appeal. + +"Come and help me!" she begged. "Come and lift me up!" + +For an instant he did not stir, and she even thought he would refuse. +Then, stiffly, he straightened himself and moved round to her side. + +Stooping, he raised and supported her. But his expression did not alter; +the murderous glare was still in his eyes. She turned her face into his +breast and lay still. + +After what seemed a very long interval Curtis spoke. + +"That's all I can do for the present. I will dress it again in the +morning, and it had better be in a sling. Mercer, I should like a word +with you outside." + +Sybil stirred sharply at the brief demand. Her nerves were on edge, and +a quaking doubt shot through her as to what Mercer might do if Curtis +presumed too far. + +She laid an imploring hand on her husband's arm. + +"Stay with me!" she begged him faintly. + +He did not move or speak. + +Curtis stood up. + +"Presently, then!" he said, and she heard him move away. + +At the door he paused, and she thought he made some rapid sign to +Mercer. But the next moment she heard the door close softly, and knew +that he had gone. + +She lay quite still thereafter, her heart fluttering too much for +speech. What would he say to her, she wondered; how would he break his +silence? She had no weapon to oppose against his anger. She was as +powerless before it as Beelzebub had been. + +Suddenly he moved. He turned her head back upon his arm and looked +straight down into her eyes. She did not shrink. She would not. But her +heart died within her. She felt as if she were gazing into hell, +watching a soul in torment. + +"Well?" he said at last. "Are you satisfied?" + +"Satisfied?" she faltered. + +"As to the sort of monster you have married," he explained, with savage +bitterness. "You've been putting out feelers ever since you came here. +Did you think I didn't know? Well, you've found out a little more than +you wanted, this time. Perhaps it will be a lesson to you. +Perhaps"--sheer cruelty shone red in his eyes--"when you see what I've +done to you, you will remember that I am not a man to play with, and +that any one, man or woman, who interferes with me, must pay the price." + +"I don't know what you mean," she answered with an effort. "What +happened was an accident." + +"Was it?" he said brutally. "Was it?" + +Still she did not shrink from him. + +"Yes," she said. "It was an accident." + +"How do you know?" he asked. + +She answered him instantly. She had not realized till then that she was +fighting the flames for his soul. The knowledge came upon her suddenly, +and it gave her strength. + +"Because I know that you love me," she said. "Because--because--though +you are cruel, and though you may be wicked--I love you, too." + +She said it with absolute sincerity, but it was the hardest thing she +had ever done in her life. To tell this man who was half animal and half +fiend that he had not somehow touched the woman's heart in her seemed +almost a desecration. She saw the flare of passion leap up in his eyes, +and she was conscious for one sick moment of a feeling of downright +repulsion. If she had only succeeded in turning his savagery into +another channel she had spoken in vain; or, worse, she had made a +mistake that could never be remedied. + +Abruptly she felt her courage waver. She shrank at last. + +"I want you to understand," she faltered; and again, "I want you to +understand." + +But she could get no further. She hid her face against him and began to +sob. + +There followed a silence, tense and terrible, which she dared not break. + +Then she felt him bend lower, and suddenly his arms were under her. He +lifted her like a little child and sat down, holding her. His hand +pressed her head against his neck, fondling, soothing, consoling. And +she knew, with an overwhelming thankfulness, that she had not offered +herself in vain. She had drawn him out of his hell by the magic of her +love. + + +IX + +When morning came Mercer departed alone, and Curtis was left in charge. +Sybil lay in her room half dressed, while the latter treated her injured +arm. + +"You ought not to be up at all," he remarked, as he uncovered it. "Have +you had any sleep?" + +"Not much," she was obliged to confess. + +"Why didn't you stay in bed?" + +"I don't want--my husband--to think me very bad," she said, flushing a +little. + +"Why not?" said Curtis. And then he glanced at her, saw the flush, and +said no more. + +She watched his bandaging with interest. + +"You look so professional," she said. + +He uttered a short laugh. + +"Do I?" + +"I mean," she said, unaccountably embarrassed, "that you do it so +nicely." + +"I have done a good deal of veterinary work," he said rather coldly. And +then suddenly he seemed to change his mind. "I was a professional once," +he said, without looking at her. "I made a mistake--a bad one--and it +broke me. That's all." + +"Oh," she said impulsively, "I am so sorry." + +"Thank you," he said quietly. + +Not till he was about to leave her did she manage to ask the question +that had been uppermost in her mind since his entrance. + +"Have you seen Beelzebub yet?" + +He paused--somewhat unwillingly, she thought. + +"Yes," he answered. + +"Is he"--she hesitated--"is he very bad?" + +"He isn't going to die, if that is what you mean," said Curtis. + +She felt her heart contract. + +"Please tell me!" she urged rather faintly. "I want to know." + +With the air of a man submitting to the inevitable Curtis proceeded to +inform her. + +"He is lying in the loft over the stable, like a sick dog. He is rather +badly mauled, and whimpers a good deal. I shall take him some soup +across presently, but I don't suppose he'll touch it." + +"Ok, dear!" she said. "What shall you do then?" + +"Mercer will have to lend a hand if I can't manage him," Curtis +answered. "But I shall do my best." + +She suppressed a shudder. + +"I hope you will be successful." + +"So do I," said Curtis, departing. + +When she saw him again she asked anxiously for news; but he had none of +a cheering nature to give her. Beelzebub would not look at food. + +"I knew he wouldn't," he said. "He has been like this before." + +"Mr. Curtis!" she exclaimed. + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"It's Mercer's way. He regards the boy as his own personal property, and +so he is, more or less. He picked him up in the bush when he wasn't more +than a few days old. The mother was dead. Mercer took him, and he was +brought up among the farm men. He's a queer young animal, more like a +dog than a human being. He needs hammering now and then. I kick him +occasionally myself. But Mercer goes too far." + +"What had he done?" questioned Sybil. + +"Oh, it was some neglect of the horses. I don't know exactly what. +Mercer isn't precisely patient, you know. And when the fellow gets +thoroughly scared he's like a rabbit; he can't move. Mercer thinks him +obstinate, and the rest follows as a natural consequence. I must ask you +to excuse me. I have work to do." + +"One moment!" Sybil laid a nervous hand on his arm. "Mr. Curtis, if--if +you can't persuade the poor boy to take any food, how will my husband do +so?" + +"He won't," said Curtis. "He'll hold him down while I drench him, that's +all." + +"That must be very bad for him," she said. + +"Of course it is. But we can't let him die, you know." He looked at her +suddenly. "Don't you worry yourself, Mrs. Mercer," he said kindly. "He +isn't quite the same as a white man, though it may offend your Western +prejudices to hear me say so. Beelzebub will pull through all right. +They are wonderfully tough, these chaps." + +"I wonder if I could persuade him to take something," she said. + +He shook his head. + +"I don't suppose you could. In any case, you mustn't try. It is against +orders." + +"Whose orders?" she asked quickly. + +"Your husband's," he answered. "His last words to me were that I was on +no account to let you go near him." + +"Oh, why?" she protested. "And I might be able to help." + +"It isn't at all likely," he said. "And he's not a very pretty thing to +look at." + +"As if that matters!" she exclaimed. + +"Well, it does matter, because I don't want to have you in hysterics, as +much for my own sake as for yours." He smiled a little. "Also, if Mercer +finds he has been disobeyed it will make him savage again, and perhaps I +shall be the next victim." + +"He would never touch you!" she exclaimed. + +"He might. Why shouldn't he?" + +"He never would!" she reiterated. "You are not afraid of him." + +He looked contemptuous for a second; and then his expression changed. + +"You are right," he said. "That is my chief safeguard; and, permit me to +say, yours also. It may be worth remembering." + +"You think him a coward!" she said. + +He considered a little. + +"No, not a coward," he said then. "There is nothing mean about him, so +far as I can see. He suffers from too much raw material, that's all. +They call him Brute Mercer in these parts. But perhaps you will be able +to tame him some day." + +"I!" she said, and turned away with a mournful little smile. + +She might charm him once or even twice out of a savage mood, but the +conviction was strong upon her that he would overwhelm her in the end. + + +X + +For nearly an hour after Curtis had left her she sat still, thinking of +Beelzebub. The afternoon sunlight lay blindingly upon all things. The +heat of it hung laden in the air. But she could not sleep or even try to +rest. Her arm throbbed and burned with a ceaseless pain, and ever the +thought of Beelzebub, lying in the loft "like a sick dog," oppressed her +like an evil dream. + +The shadows had begun to lengthen a little when at last she rose. She +could bear it no longer. Whatever the consequences, she could endure +them more easily than this torture of inactivity. As for Curtis she +believed him fully capable of taking care of himself. + +She went to the kitchen and was relieved to find him absent. Searching, +she presently found the bowl of soup Beelzebub had refused. She turned +it into a saucepan and hung over the fire, scarcely conscious of the +heat in her pressing desire to be of use. + +Finally, armed with the hot liquor, she stole across the yard to the +stable. The place was deserted, save for the horse she usually rode, who +whinnied softly to her as she passed. At the foot of the loft ladder +she stood awhile, listening, and presently heard a heavy groan. + +She had to make the ascent very slowly, using her injured arm to support +herself. When she emerged at last she found herself in a twilight which +for a time her dazzled eyes could not pierce. The heat was intolerable, +and the place hummed with flies. + +"Beelzebub!" she said softly at length. "Beelzebub, where are you?" + +There was a movement in what she dimly discerned to be a heap of straw, +and she heard a feeble whimpering as of an animal in pain. + +Her heart throbbed with pity as she crept across the littered floor. She +was beginning to see more distinctly, and by sundry chinks she +discovered the loft door. She went to it, fumbled for the latch, and +opened it. Instantly the place was flooded with light, and turning +round, she beheld Beelzebub. + +He was lying in a twisted heap in the straw, half naked, looking like +some monstrous reptile. In all her life she had never beheld anything so +horrible. His black flesh was scored over and over with long purple +stripes; even his face was swollen almost beyond recognition, and out of +it the whites of his eyes gleamed, bloodshot and terrible. + +For a few moments she was possessed by an almost overpowering desire to +flee from the awful sight; and then again he stirred and whimpered, and +pity--element most divine--came to her aid. + +She went to the poor, whining creature, and knelt beside him. + +"See!" she said. "I have brought you some soup. Do try and take a +little! It will do you good." + +There was a note of entreaty in her voice, but Beelzebub's eyes stared +as though they would leap out of his head. + +He writhed away from her into the straw. "Go 'way, missis!" he hissed at +her, with lips drawn back in terror. "Go 'way, or Boss'll come and beat +Beelzebub!" + +He spoke the white man's language; it was the only one he knew, but +there was something curiously unfamiliar, something almost bestial in +the way he spat his words. + +Again Sybil was conscious of a wild desire to escape before sheer horror +paralysed her limbs, but she fought and conquered the impulse. + +"Boss won't beat you any more," she said. "And I want you to be a good +boy and drink this before I go. I brought it myself, because I knew you +would take it to please me. You will, won't you, Beelzebub?" + +But Beelzebub was not to be easily persuaded. He cried and moaned and +writhed at every word she spoke. But Sybil had mastered herself, and she +was very patient. She coaxed him as though he had been in truth the sick +dog to which Curtis had likened him. And at last, by sheer persistence, +she managed to insert the spoon between his chattering teeth. + +He let her feed him then, lying passive, still whimpering between every +gulp, while she talked soothingly, scarcely knowing what she said in the +resolute effort to keep her ever-recurring horror at bay. When the bowl +was empty she rose. + +"Perhaps you will go to sleep now," she said kindly. "Suppose you try!" + +He stared up at her from his lair with rolling, uneasy eyes. Suddenly he +pointed to her bandaged arm. + +"Boss did that!" he croaked. + +She turned to close the door again, feeling the blood rise in her face. + +"Boss didn't mean to," she answered with as much steadiness as she could +muster. "And he didn't mean to hurt you so badly, either, Beelzebub. He +was sorry afterwards." + +She saw his teeth gleam in the twilight like the bared fangs of a wolf, +and knew that he grinned in derision of this statement. She picked up +her bowl and turned to go. At the same instant he spoke in a piercing +whisper out of the darkness. + +"Boss kill a white man once, missis!" + +She stood still, rooted to the spot. "Beelzebub!" + +He shrank away, whimpering. + +"No, no! Boss'll kill poor Beelzebub! Missis won't tell Boss?" + +To her horror his hand shot out and fastened upon her skirt. But she +could not have moved in any case. She stood staring down at him, +cold--cold to the very heart with foreboding. + +"No," she said at last, and it was as if she stood apart and listened to +another woman, very calm and collected, speaking on her behalf. "I will +never tell him, Beelzebub. You will be quite safe with me. So tell me +what you mean! Don't be afraid! Speak plainly! When did Boss kill a +white man?" + +There must have been something of compulsion in her manner, for, albeit +quaveringly and with obvious terror, the negro answered her. + +"Down by Bowker Creek, missis, 'fore you come. Boss and the white man +fight--a dam' big fight. Beelzebub run away. Afterwards, Boss, come on +alone. So Beelzebub know that Boss kill' the white man." + +"Oh, then you didn't see him killed! You don't know?" + +Was it her own lips uttering the words? They felt quite stiff and +powerless. + +"Beelzebub run away," she heard him repeating rather vacantly. + +"What did they fight with?" she said. + +"They fight with their hands," he told her. "White man from Bowker Creek +try to shoot Boss, and make Boss very angry." + +"But perhaps he wasn't killed," she insisted to herself. "Of course--of +course, he wasn't. You shouldn't say such things, Beelzebub. You +weren't there to see." + +Beelzebub shuffled in the straw and whined depreciatingly. + +"Tell me," she heard the other woman say peremptorily, "what was the +white man's name?" + +But Beelzebub only moaned, and she was forced to conclude that he did +not know. + +"Where is Bowker Creek?" she asked next. + +He could not tell her. His intelligence seemed to have utterly deserted +him. + +She stood silent, considering, while he coiled about revoltingly in the +straw at her feet. + +Suddenly through the afternoon silence there came the sound of a horse's +hoofs. She started, and listened. + +Beelzebub frantically clutched at her shoes. + +"Missis won't tell Boss!" he implored again. "Missis won't----" + +She stepped desperately out of his reach. + +"Hush!" she said. "Hush! He will hear you. I must go. I must go at +once." + +Emergency gave her strength. She moved to the trap-door, and, she knew +not how, found the ladder with her feet. + +Grey-faced, dazed, and cold as marble, she descended. Yet she did not +stumble. Her limbs moved mechanically, unfalteringly. + +When she reached the bottom she turned with absolute steadiness and +found Brett Mercer standing in the doorway watching her. + +XI + +He stood looking at her in silence as she came forward. She did not stop +to ascertain if he were angry or not. Somehow it did not seem to matter. +She only dealt with the urgent necessity for averting his suspicion. + +"I just ran across with some soup for Beelzebub," she said, her pale +face raised unflinchingly. "I am glad to say he has taken it. Please +don't go up! I want him to get to sleep." + +She spoke, with a wholly unconscious authority. The supreme effort she +was making seemed to place her upon a different footing. She laid a +quiet hand upon his arm and drew him out of the stable. + +He went with her as one surprised into submission. One of the farm men +who had taken his horse stared after them in amazement. + +As they crossed the yard together Mercer found his voice. + +"I told Curtis you weren't to go near Beelzebub." + +"I know," she answered. "Mr. Curtis told me." + +He cracked his whip savagely. + +"Where is Curtis?" + +"I don't know," she answered. "But, Brett, if you are angry because I +went you must deal with me, not with Mr. Curtis. He had nothing whatever +to do with it." + +Mercer was silent, and she divined with no sense of elation that he +would not turn his anger against her. + +They entered the house together, and he strode through the passage, +calling for Curtis. But when the latter appeared in answer to the +summons, to her surprise Mercer began to speak upon a totally different +subject. + +"I have just seen Stevens from Wallarroo. They are all in a mortal funk +there. He was on his way over here to ask you to go and look at a man +who is very bad with something that looks like smallpox. You can please +yourself about going; though, if you take my advice, you'll stay away." + +Curtis did not at once reply. He gravely took the empty bowl from +Sybil's hand, and it was upon her that his eyes rested as he finally +said, "Do you think you could manage without me?" + +She looked up with perfect steadiness. + +"Certainly I could. Please do as you think right!" + +"What about Beelzebub?" he said. + +Mercer made a restless movement. + +"He will be on his legs again in a day or two. One of the men must look +after him." + +"I shall look after him," Sybil said, with a calmness of resolution that +astounded both her hearers. + +Mercer put his hand on her shoulder, but said nothing. It was Curtis who +spoke with the voice of authority. + +"You will have to take care of her," he said bluntly. "Bear in mind what +I said to you last night! I will show you how to treat the arm. And then +I think I had better go. It may prevent an epidemic." + +Thereafter he assumed so businesslike an air that he seemed to Sybil to +be completely transformed. There never had been much deference in his +attitude towards Mercer, but he treated him now without the smallest +ceremony. He was as a man suddenly awakened from a long lethargy. From +that moment to the moment of his departure his activity was unceasing. + +Sybil and Mercer watched him finally ride away, and it was not till he +was actually gone that the fact that she was left absolutely alone with +her husband came home to her. + +With a sense of shock she realized it, and those words of +Beelzebub's--the words that she had been so resolutely forcing into the +back of her mind--came crowding back upon her with a vividness and +persistence that were wholly beyond her control. + +What was she going to do, she wondered? What could she do with this +awful, this unspeakable doubt pressing ever upon her? It might all be a +mistake, a hideous mistake on Beelzebub's part. She had no great faith +in his intelligence. It might be that by some evil chance his muddled +brain had registered the name of Bowker Creek in connection with the +fight which she did not for a moment doubt had at some time taken +place. Beelzebub was never reliable in the matter of details, and he +had not been able to answer her question regarding the place. + +Over and over again she tried to convince herself that her fear was +groundless, and over and over again the words came back to her, refusing +to be forgotten or ignored--"the white man from Bowker Creek." Who was +this white man whom Mercer had fought, this man who had tried to shoot +him? She shuddered whenever she pictured the conflict. She was horribly +afraid. + +Yet she played her part unfalteringly, and Mercer never suspected the +seething anguish of suspense and uncertainty that underlay her steadfast +composure. He thought her quieter than usual, deemed her shy; and he +treated her in consequence with a tenderness of which she had not +believed him capable--a tenderness that wrung her heart. + +She was thankful when the morning came, and he left her, for the strain +was almost more than she could endure. + +But in the interval of solitude that ensued she began to build up her +strength anew. Alone with her doubts, she faced the fact that she would +probably never know the truth. She could not rely upon Beelzebub for +accuracy, and she could not refer to her husband. The only course open +to her was to bury the evil thing as deeply as might be, to turn her +face resolutely away from it, to forget--oh, Heaven, if she could but +forget! + +All through that day Beelzebub slept, curled up in the straw. She +visited him several times, but he needed nothing. Nature had provided +her own medicine for his tortured body. In the evening a man came with a +note from Curtis. The case was undoubtedly one of smallpox, he wrote, +and he did not think his patient would recover. There was a good deal of +panic at Wallarroo, and he had removed the man to a cattle-shed at some +distance from the township where they were isolated. There were one or +two things he needed which he desired Mercer to send on the following +day to a place he described, whence he himself would fetch them. + +"Beelzebub can go," said Mercer. + +"If he is well enough!" said Sybil. + +He frowned. + +"You don't seem to realize what these niggers are made of. Of course, he +will be well enough." + +She said no more, for she saw that the topic was unwelcome; but she +determined to make a stand on Beelzebub's behalf the next day, unless +his condition were very materially improved. + + +XII + +It was with surprise and relief that upon entering the kitchen on the +following morning Sybil found Beelzebub back in his accustomed place. He +greeted her with a wider grin than usual, which she took for an +expression of gratitude. He seemed to have made a complete recovery, for +which she was profoundly thankful. + +She herself was feeling better that day. Her arm pained her less, and +she no longer carried it in a sling. She had breakfasted in bed, Mercer +himself waiting upon her. + +She was amazed to hear him speak with kindness to Beelzebub, and even +ask the boy if he thought he could manage the ride to Wallarroo. +Beelzebub, abjectly eager to return to favour, professed himself ready +to start at once. And so presently Sybil found herself alone. + +The long day passed without event. The loneliness did not oppress her. +She busied herself with preparing delicacies for the sick man, which +Beelzebub could take on the following day. Beelzebub had had smallpox, +and knew no fear. + +He did not return from his errand till the afternoon was well advanced. +She went to the door to hear his news, but he was in his least +intelligent mood, and seemed able to tell her very little. By dint of +close questioning she elicited that he had seen Curtis, who had told him +that the man was worse. Beyond this, Beelzebub appeared to know nothing; +and yet there was something about him that excited her attention. He +seemed more than once to be upon the point of saying something, and to +fail at the last moment, as though either his wits or his courage were +unequal to the effort. She could not have said what conveyed this +impression, but it was curiously strong. She tried hard to elicit +further information, but Beelzebub only became more idiotic in response, +and she was obliged to relinquish the attempt. + +Mercer came in soon after, and she dismissed the matter from her mind. +But a vivid dream recalled it. She started up in the night, agitated, +incoherent, crying that someone wanted her, someone who could not wait, +and she must go. She could not tell her husband what the dream had been +and in the morning all memory of it had vanished. But it left a vague +disquietude behind, a haunting anxiety that hung heavily upon her. She +could not feel at peace. + +Mercer left that morning. He had to go a considerable distance to an +outlying farm. She saw him off from the gate, and then went back into +the house, still with that inexplicable sense of oppression weighing her +down. + +She prepared the parcel that she purposed to send to Curtis, and went in +search of Beelzebub. He was sweeping the kitchen. + +"I shall want you to go to Wallarroo again to-day," she said. "You had +better start soon, as I should like Mr. Curtis to get this in good +time." + +Beelzebub stopped sweeping, and cringed before her. + +"Boss gone?" he questioned cautiously. + +"Yes," she answered, wondering what was coming. + +He drew a little nearer to her, still cringing. + +"Missis," he whispered piercingly, "Beelzebub see the white man +yesterday." + +She stared at him. + +"What white man, Beelzebub? What do you mean?" + +"White man from Bowker Creek," said Beelzebub. + +Her breathing stopped suddenly. She felt as if she had been stabbed. +"Where!" she managed to gasp. + +Beelzebub looked vacant. There was evidently something that she was +expected to understand. She forced her startled brain into activity. + +"Is he the man who is ill--the man Mr. Curtis is taking care of?" + +Beelzebub looked intelligent again. + +"White man very bad," he said. + +"But--but--how was it you saw him? You were told to leave the parcel by +the fence for Mr. Curtis to fetch." + +Beelzebub exerted himself to explain. + +"Mr. Curtis away, so Beelzebub creep up close and look in. But the white +man see Beelzebub and curse; so Beelzebub go away again." + +"And that is the man you thought Boss killed?" Sybil questioned, relief +and fear strangely mingled within her. + +Her brain was beginning to whirl, but with all her strength she +controlled it. Now or never would she know the truth. + +Beelzebub was scared by the question. + +"Missis won't tell Boss?" he begged. + +"No, no," she said impatiently. "When will you learn that I never repeat +things? Now, Beelzebub, I want you to do something for me. Can you +remember? You are to ask Mr. Curtis to tell you the white man's name. +Say that Boss--do you understand?--say that Boss wants to know! And then +come back as fast as you possibly can, before Boss gets home to-night, +and tell me!" + +She repeated these instructions many times over till it seemed +impossible that he could make any mistake. And then she watched him go, +and set herself with a heart like lead to face the interminable day. + +She thought the hours would never pass, so restless was she, so +continuous the torment of doubt that vexed her soul. There were times +when she felt that if the thing she feared were true, it would kill her. +If her husband--the man whom, in spite of almost every instinct, she had +learnt to love--had deceived her, if he had played a double game to win +her, if, in short, the man he had fought at Bowker Creek were Robin +Wentworth, then she felt as if life for her were over. She might +continue to exist, indeed, but the heart within her would be dead. There +would be nothing left her but the grey ruins of that which had scarcely +begun to be happiness. + +She tried hard to compose herself, but all her strength could not still +the wild fluttering of her nerves through the long-drawn-out suspense +of that dreadful day. At every sound she hastened to the door to look +for Beelzebub, long before he could possibly return. At the striking of +every hour she strained her ears to listen. + +But when at last she heard the hoof-beats that told of the negro's +approach she felt that she could not go again; she lacked the physical +strength to seek him and hear the truth. + +For a time she sat quite still, gathering all her forces for the ordeal. +Then at length she compelled herself, and rose. + +Beelzebub was grooming his horse. He looked up at her approach and +grinned. + +"Well, Beelzebub," she said through her white lips, "have you seen Mr. +Curtis?" + +"Yes, missis." Beelzebub rolled his eyes intelligently. He seemed +unaware of the tragedy in the English girl's drawn face. + +"And the white man?" she said. + +"Mr. Curtis think the white man die soon," said Beelzebub. + +"Ah!" She pressed her hand tightly against her heart. She felt as if its +throbbing would choke her. "And--his name?" she said. + +Beelzebub paused and opened his eyes to their widest extent. He was +making a supreme effort, and the result was monstrous. But Sybil did not +quail; she scarcely saw him. + +"His name?" she said; and again, raising her voice, "His name?" + +The whole world seemed to rock while she waited, but she stood firm in +the midst of chaos. Her whole soul was concentrated upon Beelzebub's +reply. + +It came at last with the effect of something uttered from an immense +distance that was yet piercingly distinct. + +"Went--" said Beelzebub, and paused; then, with renewed effort, +"Wentworth." + +And Sybil turned from him, shrinking as though something evil had +touched her, and walked stiffly back into the house. She had known it +all day long! + + + +XIII + + +She never knew afterwards how long a time elapsed between the +confirmation of her doubts and the sudden starting to life of a new +resolution within her. It came upon her unexpectedly, striking through +the numbness of her despair, nerving her to action--the memory of her +dream and whence that dream had sprung. Robin Wentworth still lived. It +might be he would know her. It might even be that he was wanting her. +She would go to him. + +It was the only thing left for her to do. Of the risk to herself she did +not think, nor would it have deterred her had it presented itself to her +mind. She felt as though he had called to her, and she had not +answered. + +To Beelzebub's abject entreaties she paid no heed. There were two fresh +horses in the stable, and she ordered him to saddle them both. He did +not dare to disobey her in the matter, but she knew that no power on +earth would have induced him to remain alone at the farm till Mercer's +coming. + +She left no word to explain her absence. There seemed no time for any +written message, nor was she in a state of mind to frame one. She was +driven by a consuming fever that urged her to perpetual movement. It did +not seem to matter how the tidings of her going came to Mercer. + +Not till she was in the saddle and riding, riding hard, did she know a +moment's relief. The physical exertion eased the inward tumult, but she +would not slacken for an instant. She felt that to do so would be to +lose her reason. Beelzebub, galloping after her, thought her demented +already. + +Through the long, long pastures she travelled, never drawing rein, +looking neither to right nor left. The animal she rode knew the way to +Wallarroo, and followed it undeviatingly. The sun was beginning to +slant, and the shadows to lengthen. + +Mile after mile of rolling grassland they left behind them, and still +they pressed forward. At last came the twilight, brief as the soft +sinking of a curtain, and then the dark. But the night was ablaze with +stars, and the road was clear. + +Sybil rode as one in a nightmare, straining forward eternally. She did +not urge her horse, but he bore her so gallantly that she did not need +to do so. Beelzebub had increasing difficulty in keeping up with her. + +At last, after what seemed like the passage of many hours, they sighted +from afar the lights of Wallarroo. Sybil drew rein, and waited for +Beelzebub. + +"Which way?" she said. + +He pointed to a group of trees upon a knoll some distance from the road, +and thither she turned her horse's head. Beelzebub rode up beside her. + +They left the knoll on one side, and, skirting it, came to a dip in the +hill-side. And here they came at length to the end of their journey--a +journey that to Sybil had seemed endless--and halted before a wooden +shed that had been built for cattle. A flap of canvas had been nailed +above the entrance, behind which a dim light burned. Sybil dismounted +and drew near. + +At first she heard no sound; then, as she stood hesitating and +uncertain, there came a man's voice that uttered low, disjointed words. +She thought for a second that someone was praying, and then, with a +thrill of horror, she knew otherwise. The voice was uttering the most +fearful curses she had ever heard. + +Scarcely knowing what she did, but unable to stand there passively +listening, she drew aside the canvas flap and looked in. + +In an instant the voice ceased. There fell a silence, followed by a +wild, half-strangled cry. She had a glimpse of a prone figure in a +corner struggling upwards, and then Curtis was before her--Curtis +haggard and agitated as she had never seen him--pushing her back out of +the dim place into the clean starlight without. + +"Mrs. Mercer! Are you mad?" she heard him say. + +She resisted his compelling hands; she was strangely composed and +undismayed. + +"I am coming in," she said. "Nothing on earth will keep me back. That +man--Robin Wentworth--is a friend of mine. I am going to see him and +speak to him." + +"Impossible!" Curtis said. + +But she withstood him unfalteringly. + +"It is not impossible. You must let me pass. I mean to go to him, and +you cannot prevent it." + +He saw the hopelessness of opposing her. Her eyes told him that it was +no whim but steadfast purpose that had brought her there. He looked +beyond her to Beelzebub, but gathered no inspiration in that quarter. + +"Let me pass, Mr. Curtis!" said Sybil gently. "I shall take no harm. I +must see him before he dies." + +And Curtis yielded. He was worn out by long and fruitless watching, and +he could not cope with this fresh emergency. He yielded to her +insistence, and suffered her to pass him. + +"He is very far gone," he said. + + + + +XIV + + +As Sybil entered she heard again that strange, choked cry. The sick man +was struggling to rise, but could not. + +She went straight to the narrow pallet on which he lay and bent over +him. + +"Robin!" she said. + +He gave a great start, and became intensely still, lying face downwards, +his body twisted, his head on his arm. + +She stooped lower. She touched him. A superhuman strength was hers. + +"Robin," she said, "do you know me?" + +He turned his face a little, and she saw the malignant horror of the +disease that gripped him. It was a sight that would have turned her sick +at any other time. But to-night she knew no weakness. + +"Who are you?" he said, in a gasping whisper. + +"I am Sybil," she answered steadfastly. "Don't you remember me?" + +He lay motionless for a little, his breathing sharp and short. At +length: + +"You had better get away from this pestilent hole," he panted out. "It's +no place for a woman." + +"I have come to nurse you," she said. + +"You!" He seemed to collect himself with an effort. He turned his face +fully towards her. "Didn't you marry that devil Mercer, after all?" he +gasped, gazing up at her with glassy eyes. + +Only by his eyes would she have known him--this man whom once long ago +she had fancied that she loved--and even they were strained and +unfamiliar. She bent her head in answer. "Yes, Robin, I married him." + +He began to curse inarticulately, spasmodically; but that she would not +have. She knelt down suddenly by his side, and took his hand in hers. +The terrible, disfigured countenance did not appal her, though the +memory of it would haunt her all her life. + +"Robin, listen!" she said earnestly. "We may not have very long +together. Let us make the most of what time we have! Don't waste your +strength! Try to tell me quietly what happened, how it was you gave me +up! I want to understand it all. I have never yet heard the truth." + +Her quiet words, the steady pressure of her hand, calmed him. He lay +still for a space, gazing at her. + +"You're not afraid?" he muttered at last. + +"No," she said. + +He continued to stare at her. + +"Is he--good to you?" he said. + +The words came with difficulty. She saw his throat working with the +convulsive effort to produce sound. + +Curtis touched her arm. "Give him this!" + +She took a cup from his hand, and held it to the swollen lips. But he +could not swallow. The liquid trickled down into his beard. + +"He's past it," murmured Curtis. + +"Sybil!" The words came with a hard, rending sound. "Is he--good to +you?" + +She was wiping away the spilt drops with infinite, unfaltering +tenderness. + +"Yes, dear," she answered. "He is very good to me." + +He uttered a great gasping sigh. + +"That's--all--that matters," he said, and fell silent, still gazing at +her with eyes that seemed too fixed to take her in. + +In the long, long silence that followed no one moved. But for those wild +eyes Sybil would have thought him sleeping. + +Minutes passed, and at last Curtis spoke under his breath. + +"You had better go. You can't do any more." + +But she would not stir. She had a feeling that Robin still wanted her. + +Suddenly through the night silence there came a sound--the hoof-beats of +a galloping horse. + +She turned her head and listened. "What is that?" + +As if in answer, Beelzebub's black face appeared in the entrance. His +eyes were distended with fright. + +"Missis!" he hissed in a guttural whisper. + +"Here's Boss comin'!" and disappeared again like a monstrous goblin. + +Sybil glanced up at Curtis. "Don't let him come here!" she said. + +But for once he seemed to be at a loss. He made no response to her +appeal. While they waited, the hoofs drew steadily nearer, thudding over +the grass. + +"Mr. Curtis!" she said urgently. + +He made a sharp, despairing gesture. "I can't help it," he said. "You +must go. For Heaven's sake, don't let him touch you, and burn the +clothes you have on as soon as possible! I am going to set fire to this +place immediately." + +"Going to--set fire to it?" She stared at him in surprise, still +scarcely understanding. + +"The poor chap is dead," he said. "It's the only thing to do." + +She turned back to the face upon the pillow with its staring, sightless +eyes. She raised a pitying hand to close them, but Curtis intervened. + +He drew her to her feet. "Go!" he said. "Go! Keep Mercer away, that's +all!" + +She heard the jingling of a horse's bit and knew that the rider was very +near. Mechanically almost, she turned from the place of death and went +to meet him. + + + +XV + + +He was off his horse and striding for the entrance when she encountered +him. The starlight on his face showed it livid and terrible. At sight +of her he stopped short. + +"Are you mad?" he said. + +They were the identical words that Curtis had used; but his voice, +hoarse, unnatural, told her that he was in a dangerous mood. + +She backed away from him. "Don't come near me!" she said quickly. +"He--he is just dead. And I have been with him." + +"He?" he flung at her furiously, and she knew by his tone that he +suspected the truth. + +She tried to answer him steadily, but her strength was beginning to fail +her. The long strain was telling upon her at last. She was uncertain of +herself. + +"It--was Robin Wentworth," she said. + +He took a swift stride towards her. His face was convulsed with passion. +"You came here to see that soddened cur?" he said. + +She shrank away from him. The tempest of his anger overwhelmed her. She +could not stand against it. For the first time she quailed. + +"I have seen him," she said. "And he is dead. Ah, don't--don't touch +me!" + +He paid no attention to her cry. He seized her by the shoulders and +almost swung her from his path. + +"It would have been better for you," he said between his teeth, "if he +had died before you got here. You have begun to repent already, and +you'll go on repenting for the rest of your life." + +"What are you going to do?" she cried, seeing him turn. "Brett, don't go +in there! Don't! Don't! You must not! You shall not!" + +In a frenzy of fear she threw herself upon him, struggling with all her +puny strength to hold him back. + +"I tell you he is dead!" she gasped. "Why do you want to go in?" + +"I am going to see for myself," he said stubbornly, putting her away. + +"No!" she cried. "No!" + +His eyes gleamed red with a savage fury as she clung to him afresh. He +caught her wrists, forcing her backwards. + +"I don't believe he is dead!" he snarled. + +"He is! He is! Mr. Curtis told me so." + +"If he isn't, I'll murder him!" Brett Mercer vowed, and flung her +fiercely from him. + +She fell with violence and lay half-stunned, while he, blinded with +rage, possessed by devils, strode forward into that silent place, +leaving her prone. + +She thought later that she must have fainted, for the next thing she +knew--and it must have been after the passage of several minutes--was +Mercer kneeling beside her and lifting her. His touch was perfectly +gentle, but she dared not look into his face. She cowered in his arms in +mortal fear. He had crushed her at last. + +"Have I hurt you?" he said. + +She did not answer. Her voice was gone. She was as powerless as an +infant. He raised her and bore her steadily away. + +When he paused finally, it was to speak to Beelzebub, who was holding +the horses. And then, without a word to her, he lifted her up on to a +saddle, and mounted himself behind her. She lay against his breast as +one dazed, incapable of speech or action. And so, with his arm about +her, moving slowly through a world of shadows, they began the long, long +journey back. + +They travelled so for the greater part of the night, and during the +whole of that time Mercer never uttered a word. The horse he rode was +jaded, and he did not press it. Beelzebub, with the other two, rode far +ahead. + +It was still dark when at last they turned in to the Home Farm, and, +still in that awful silence, Mercer dismounted and lifted his wife to +the ground. + +He set her on her feet, but her limbs trembled so much that she could +scarcely stand. He kept his arm around her, and led her into the house. + +He took her to her room and left her there; but in a few minutes he +returned with food on a tray which he set before her without raising his +eyes, and again departed. She did not see him again for many hours. + + + +XVI + + +From sheer exhaustion she slept at last, but her sleep was broken and +unrefreshing. She turned and tossed, dozing and waking in utter +weariness of mind and body till the day was far advanced. Finally, too +restless to lie any longer, she arose and dressed. + +The sound of voices took her to her window before she left her room, and +she saw her husband on horseback with Curtis standing by his side. A +sense of relief shot through her at sight of the latter. She had come to +rely upon him more than she knew. While she watched, Mercer raised his +bridle and rode slowly away without a backward glance. And again she was +conscious of relief. + +Curtis stood looking after him for a few seconds, then turned and +entered the house. + +She met him in the passage outside her room. He greeted her gravely. + +"I was just coming to see if I could do anything for you," he said. + +"Thank you," she answered nervously. "I am better now. Where has my +husband gone?" + +He did not answer her immediately. He turned aside to the room in which +she generally sat, standing back for her to pass him. "I have something +to say to you," he said. + +She glanced at him anxiously as she took the chair he offered her. + +"In the first place," he said, "you will be wise if you keep absolutely +quiet for the next few days. There will be nothing to disturb you. +Mercer is not returning at present. He has left you in my charge." + +"Oh, why?" she said. + +Her hands were locked together. She had begun to tremble from head to +foot. + +Curtis was watching her quietly. + +"I think," he said, "that he is better away from you for a time, and he +agrees with me." + +"Why?" she said again, lifting her piteous eyes. "Is he so angry with +me?" + +"With you? No. He has come to his senses in that respect. But he is not +in a particularly safe mood, and he knows it. He has gone to fight it +out by himself." + +Curtis paused, but Sybil did not speak. Her attitude had relaxed. He +read unmistakble relief in every line. + +"Well, now," he said deliberately, "I am going to tell you the exact +truth of this business, as Mercer himself has told it to me." + +"He wishes me to know it?" she asked quickly. + +"He is willing that I should tell you," Curtis answered. "In fact, until +he saw me to-day he believed that you knew it already. That was the +primary cause of his savagery last night. You have probably formed a +very shrewd suspicion of what happened, but it is better for you to know +things as they actually stand. If it makes you hate him--well, it's no +more than he deserves." + +"Ah, but I have to live with him," she broke in, with sudden passion. +"It is easy for you to talk of hating him, but I--I am his wife. I must +go on living by his side, whatever I may feel." + +"Yes, I know," Curtis said. "But it won't make it any easier for either +of you to feel that there is this thing between you. Even he sees that. +You can't forgive him if you don't know what he has done." + +"Then why doesn't he tell me himself?" she said. + +"Because," Curtis answered, looking at her steadily, "it will be easier +for you to hear it from me. He saw that, too." + +She could not deny it, but for some reason it hurt her to hear him say +so. She had a feeling that it was to Curtis's insistence, rather than to +her husband's consideration, that she owed this present respite. + +"I will listen to you, then," she said. + +Curtis began to walk up and down the room. + +"First, with regard to Wentworth," he said. "There was a time once when +he occupied very much the position that I now hold. He was Mercer's +right-hand man. But he took to drink, and that did for him. I am afraid +he was never very sound. Anyhow, Mercer gave him up, and he disappeared. + +"After he had gone, after I took his place, we found out one or two +things he had done which might have landed him in prison if Mercer had +followed them up. However, the man was gone, and it didn't seem worth +while to track him. It was not till afterwards that we heard he was at +Bowker Creek, and Mercer was then on the point of starting for England, +and decided to leave him alone. + +"It's a poor place--Bowker Creek. He had got a job there as boundary +rider. I suppose he counted on the shearing season to set him up. But he +wasn't the sort of chap who ever gets on. And when Mercer met you on his +way out from the old country it was something of a shock to him to hear +that you were on your way to marry Robin Wentworth. + +"Of course, he ought to have told you the truth, but instead of that he +made up his mind to take the business into his own hands and marry you +himself. He cabled from Colombo to Wentworth to wait for him at Bowker +Creek, hinted that if he went to the coast he would have him arrested, +and said something vague about coming to an understanding which induced +Wentworth to obey orders. + +"Then he came straight here and pressed on to Rollandstown, taking +Beelzebub with him to show him the short cuts. It's a hard day's ride in +any case. He reached Bowker Creek the day after, and had it out with +Wentworth. The man had been drinking, was unreasonable, furious, finally +tried to shoot him. + +"Well, you know Mercer. He won't stand that sort of thing. He thrashed +him within an inch of his life, and then made him write and give you up. +It was a despicable affair from start to finish. Mercer's only excuse +was that Wentworth was not the sort of man to make any woman happy. +Finally, when he had got what he wanted, Mercer left him, after swearing +eternal vengeance on him if he ever came within reach of you. The rest +you know." + +Yes, Sybil knew the rest. She understood the whole story from beginning +to end, realized with what unscrupulous ingenuity she had been trapped +and wondered bitterly if she would ever endure her husband's presence +again without the shuddering sense of nausea which now overcame her at +the bare thought of him. + +She sat in stony silence, till at last Curtis paused beside her. + +"I want you to rest," he said. "I think, if you don't, the consequences +may be serious." + +She looked up at him uncomprehendingly. + +"Come, Mrs. Mercer!" he said. + +She shrank at the name. + +"Don't call me that!" she said, and stumbled uncertainly to her feet. +"I--I am going away." + +He put a steadying hand on her shoulder. + +"You can't," he said quietly. "You are not fit for it. Besides, there is +nowhere for you to go to. But I will get Mrs. Stevens, the innkeeper's +wife at Wallarroo, to come to you for a time. She is a good sort, you +can count on her. As for Mercer, he will not return unless you--or +I--send for him." + +She shivered violently, uncontrollably. + +"You will never send for him?" + +"Never," he answered, "unless you need him." + +She glanced around her wildly. Her eyes were hunted. + +"Why do you say that?" she gasped. + +"I think you know why I say it," said Curtis very steadily. + +Her hands were clenched. + +"No!" she cried back sharply. "No!" + +Curtis was silent. There was deep compassion in his eyes. + +She glanced around her wildly. Her eyes were on his eyes. + +She shuddered again, shuddered from head to foot. + +"If I thought that," she whispered, "if I thought that, I would----" + +"Hush!" he interposed gently. "Don't say it! Go and lie down! You will +see things differently by and bye." + +She knew that he was right, and worn out, broken as she was, she moved +to obey him. But before she reached the door her little strength was +gone. She felt herself sinking swiftly into a silence that she hoped and +even prayed was death. She did not know when Curtis lifted her. + + + +XVII + + +During many days Sybil lay in her darkened room, facing, in weariness of +body and bitterness of soul, the problem of life. She was not actually +ill, but there were times when she longed intensely, passionately, for +death. She was weak, physically and mentally, after the long strain. +Courage and endurance had alike given way at last. She had no strength +with which to face what lay before her. + +So far as outward circumstances went, she was in good hands. Curtis +watched over her with a care that never flagged, and the innkeeper's +wife from Wallarroo, large and slow and patient, was her constant +attendant. But neither of them could touch or in any way soothe the +perpetual pain that throbbed night and day in the girl's heart, giving +her no rest. + +She left her bed at length after many days, but it was only to wander +aimlessly about the house, lacking the energy to employ herself. Her +nerves were quieter, but she still started at any sudden sound, and +would sit as one listening yet dreading to hear. Her husband's name +never passed her lips, and Curtis never made the vaguest reference to +him. He knew that sooner or later a change would come, that the long +suffering that lined her face must draw at last to a climax; but he +would do nothing to hasten it. He believed that Nature would eventually +find her own remedy. + +But Nature is ever slow, and sometimes the wheel of life moves too +quickly for her methods to take effect. + +Sybil was sitting one day by an open window when Beelzebub dashed +suddenly into view. He was on horseback, riding barebacked, and was +evidently in a ferment of excitement. He bawled some incoherent words as +he passed the window, words which Sybil could not distinguish, but which +nevertheless sent a sharp sense of foreboding through her heart. Had +he--or had he not--yelled something to her about "Boss"? She could not +possibly have said, but the suspicion was sufficiently strong to rouse +her to lean out of the window and try to catch something of what the boy +was saying. + +He had reached the yard, and had flung himself off the sweating animal. +As she peered forth she caught sight of Curtis coming out of the stable. +Beelzebub saw him too, and broke out afresh with his wild cry. This +time, straining her ears to listen, she caught the words, all jumbled +together though they were. + +"Boss got smallpox!" + +She saw Curtis stop dead, and she wondered if his heart, like hers, had +ceased to beat. The next instant he moved forward, and for the first +time she saw him deliberately punch the gesticulating negro's woolly +head. Beelzebub cried out like a whipped dog and slunk back. Then, very +calmly, Curtis took him by the scruff of his neck, and began to question +him. + +Sybil stood, gripping the curtain, and watched it all as one watches a +scene on the stage. Somehow, though she knew herself to be vitally +concerned, she felt no agitation. It was as if the blood had ceased to +run in her veins. + +At length she saw Curtis release the palpitating Beelzebub, and turn +towards the house. Quite calmly she also turned. + +They met in the passage. + +"You needn't trouble to keep it from me," she said. "I know." + +He gave her a keen look. + +"I am going to him at once," was all he said. + +She stood quite still, facing him; and suddenly she was conscious of a +great glow pulsing through her, as though some arrested force had been +set free. She knew that her heart was beating again, strongly, steadily, +fearlessly. + +"I shall come with you," she said. + +She saw his face change. + +"I am sorry," he said, "but that is out of the question. You must know +it." + +She answered him instantly, unhesitatingly, with some of the old, quick +spirit that had won Brett Mercer's heart. + +"There you are wrong. I know it to be the only thing possible for me to +do." + +Curtis looked at her for a second as if he scarcely knew her, and then +abruptly abandoned the argument. + +"I will not be responsible," he said, turning aside. + +And she answered him unfalteringly: + +"I will take the responsibility." + +XVIII + + +Slowly Brett Mercer raised himself and tried to peer through his swollen +eyelids at the door. + +"Don't bring any woman here!" he mumbled. + +The effort to see was fruitless. He sank back, blind and tortured, upon +the pillow. He had been taken ill at one of his own outlying farms, and +here he had lain for days--a giant bereft of his strength, waiting for +death. + +His only attendant was a farm-hand who had had the disease, but knew +nothing of its treatment, who was, moreover, afraid to go near him. + +Curtis took in the whole situation at a glance as he bent over him. + +"Why didn't you send for me?" he said. + +"That you?" gasped Mercer. "Man, I'm in hell! Can't you give me +something to put me out of my misery?" + +Curtis was already at work over him. + +"No," he said briefly. "I'm going to pull you through. You're wanted." + +"You lie!" gasped back Mercer, and said no more. + +Some hours after, starting suddenly from fevered sleep, he asked an +abrupt question: + +"Does my wife know?" + +"Yes, she knows," Curtis answered. + +He flung his arms wide with a bitter gesture. "She'll soon be free," he +said. + +"Not if I know it," said Curtis, in his quiet, unemotional style. + +"You can't make me live against my will," muttered Mercer. + +"Don't talk like a fool!" responded Curtis. + +Late that night a hand that was not Curtis's smoothed the sick man's +pillow, and presently gave him nourishment. He noticed the difference +instantly, though he could not open his eyes; but he said nothing at the +time, and she fancied he did not know her. + +But presently, when she thought him sleeping, he spoke. + +"When did you come?" + +Even then she was not sure that he was in his right mind. His face was +so swollen and disfigured that it told her nothing. She answered him +very softly: + +"I came with Mr. Curtis." + +"Why?" That one word told her that he was in full possession of his +senses. He moved his head to and fro on the pillow as one vainly seeking +rest. "Did you want to see me in hell?" he questioned harshly. + +She leaned towards him. She was sitting by his bed. + +"No," she said, speaking under her breath. "I came because--because it +was the only way out--for us both." + +"What?" he said, and the old impatient frown drew his forehead. "You +came to see me die, then?" + +"I came," she answered, "to try and make you live." + +He drew a breath that was a groan. + +"You won't succeed," he said. + +"Why not?" she asked. + +Again feverishly he moved his head, and she smoothed his pillow afresh +with hands that trembled. + +"Don't touch me!" he said sharply. "What was Curtis dreaming of to bring +you here?" + +"Mr. Curtis couldn't help it," she answered, with more assurance. "I +came." And then after a moment, "Are you--sorry--I came?" + +"Yes," he muttered. + +"Oh, why?" she said. + +"I would sooner die--without you looking on," he said, forcing out his +words through set teeth. + +"Oh, why?" she said again. "Don't you believe--can't you believe--that I +want you to live?" + +"No," he groaned. + +"Not if I swear it?" she asked, her voice sunk very low. + +"No!" He flung the word with something of his ancient ferocity. She was +torturing him past endurance. He even madly hoped that he could scare +her away. + +But Sybil made no move to go. She sat quite still for a few seconds. +Then slowly she went down upon her knees beside his pillow. + +"Brett," she said, and he felt her breath quick and tremulous upon his +face as she spoke, "you may refuse to believe what I say. But--I can +convince you without words." + +And before he knew her meaning, she had pressed her quivering lips to +his. + +He recoiled, with an anguished sound that was half of protest and half +of unutterable pain. + +"Do you want to die too?" he said. "Or don't you know the risk?" + +"Yes, I know it," she answered. "I know it," and in her voice was such a +thrill of passion as he had never heard or thought to hear from her. +"But I know this, too, and I mean that you shall know it. My life is +nothing to me--do you understand?--nothing, unless you share it. +Now--will you believe me?" + +Yes, he believed her then. He had no choice. The knowledge was as a +sword cutting its way straight to his heart. He tried to answer her, +tried desperately hard, because he knew that she was waiting for him to +speak, that his silence would hurt her who from that day forward he +would never hurt again. + +But no words would come. He could not force his utterance. The power of +speech was gone from him. He turned his face away from her in choking +tears. + +And Sybil knew that the victory was hers. Those tears were more to her +than words. She knew that he would live--if he could--for her sake. + +XIX + + +It was more than six weeks later that Brett Mercer and his wife turned +in at the Home Farm, as they had turned in on that memorable night that +he had brought his bride from Wallarroo. + +Now, as then, Curtis was ready for them in the open doorway, and +Beelzebub advanced grinning to take the horses. But there the +resemblance ceased. The woman who entered with her husband leaning on +her shoulder was no nervous, shrinking stranger, but a wife entering her +home with gladness, bearing her burden with rejoicing. The woman from +Wallarroo looked at her with a doubtful sort of sympathy. She also +looked at the gaunt, bowed man who accompanied her, and questioned with +herself if this were indeed Brett Mercer. + +Brett Mercer it undoubtedly was, nor could she have said, save for his +slow, stooping gait, wherein lay the change that so amazed her. + +Perhaps it was more apparent in Sybil than in the man himself as she +raised her face on entering, and murmured: + +"So good to get home again, isn't it, dear?" + +He did not speak in answer. He scarcely spoke at all that night. But his +silence satisfied her. + +It was not till the following morning that he stretched out a great, +bony hand to her as she waited on him, and drew her down to his side. + +"There has been enough of this," he said, with a touch of his old +imperiousness. "You have worked too hard already, harder than I ever +meant you to work. You are to take a rest, and get strong." + +She uttered her gay little laugh. + +"My dearest Brett, I am strong." + +He lay staring at her in his most direct, disconcerting fashion. She +endured his look for a moment, and then averted her eyes. She would have +risen, but he prevented her. + +"Sybil!" he said abruptly. + +"Yes?" she answered, with her head bent. + +"Are you afraid of me?" he said. + +She shook her head instantly. + +"Don't be absurd!" + +"Then look at me!" he said. + +She raised her eyes slowly, not very willingly. But, having raised them, +she kept them so, for there was that in his look which no longer made +her shy. + +He made a slight gesture towards her that was rather of invitation than +insistence. + +"Don't you think I'm nearly well enough to be let into the secret?" he +said. + +His action, his tone, above all his look, broke down the last of the +barrier between them. She went into his arms with a shaky little laugh, +and hid her face against him. + +"I would have told you long ago," she whispered, "only somehow--I +couldn't. Besides, I was so sure that you knew." + +"Oh, yes, I knew," said Mercer. "Curtis saw to that; literally flayed me +with it till I took his advice and cleared out. You know, I've often +wondered since if it was that that made you want me, after all." + +She shook her head, still with her face against his breast. + +"No, dear, it wasn't. It--it made things worse at first. It was only +when I heard you were ill that--that I found--quite suddenly--that I +couldn't possibly go on without you. It was as if--as if something bound +round my heart had suddenly given way, and I could breathe again. When I +saw you I knew how terribly I wanted you." + +"And that was how you came to kiss me with that loathsome disease upon +me?" he whispered. "That was what made you follow me down to hell to +bring me back?" + +She turned her face upwards. Her eyes were shining. + +"My dear," she said, and in her voice was a thrill like the first sweet +notes of a bird in the dawning, "you don't need to ask me why did these +things. For you know--you know. It was simply and only because I loved +you." + +"Heaven knows why," he said, as he bent to kiss her. + +"Heavens knows," she answered, and softly laughed as she surrendered her +lips to his. + + + + +The Secret Service Man + + +I + +A TIGHT PLACE + + +"Shoulder to shoulder, boys! Give it 'em straight! There's no going back +this journey." And the speaker slapped his thigh and laughed. + +He was penned in a hot corner with a handful of grinning little +Goorkhas, as ready and exultant as himself. He had no earthly business +in that particular spot. But he had won his way there in a hand-to-hand +combat, which had rendered that bit of ground the most desirable +abiding-place on the face of the earth. And being there he meant to +stay. + +He was established with the inimitable effrontery of British insolence. +He had pushed on through the dark, fired by the enthusiasm which is born +of hard resistence. It had been no slight matter, but neither he nor his +men were to be easily dismayed. Moreover, their patience had been +severely tried for many tedious hours, and the removal of the curb had +gone to their heads like wine. + +Young Derrick Rose, war correspondent, was hot of head and ready of +hand. He had a knack also of getting into tight places and extricating +himself therefrom with amazing agility; which knack served to procure +for him the admiration of his friends and the respect of his enemies. It +was his first Frontier campaign, but it was not apparently destined to +be his last, for he bore a charmed life. And he went his way with a +cheery recklessness that seemed its own security. + +On the present occasion he had planted himself, with a serene assumption +of authority, at the head of a handful of Goorkhas who had been pressed +forward too far by an over-zealous officer in the darkness, and had lost +their leader in consequence. + +Derrick had stumbled on the group and had forthwith taken upon himself +to direct them to a position which, with a good deal of astuteness, he +had marked out in his own mind earlier in the day as a desirable +acquisition. + +There had been a hand-to-hand scuffle in the darkness, and then the +tribesmen had fallen back, believing themselves overwhelmed by superior +numbers. + +Derrick and his Goorkhas had promptly taken possession of the rocky +eminence which was the object of their desire, and now prepared, with +commendable determination, to maintain themselves at the post thus +captured; an impossible feat in consideration of the paucity of their +numbers, which fact a wily enemy had already begun to suspect. + +That the main force could by any means fail them was a possibility over +which for long neither Derrick nor his followers wasted a thought. +Nevertheless half-an-hour of mad turmoil passed, and no help came. + +Derrick charitably set down its non-appearance to ignorance of his state +and whereabouts, and he began at length to wonder within himself how the +place was to be defended throughout the night. Retreat he would not +think of, for he was game to the finger-tips. But even he could not fail +to see that, when the moon rose, he and his followers would be in a very +tight fix. + +"Confound their caution! What are they thinking of?" he muttered +savagely. "If they only came straight ahead they would be bound to find +us." + +And then a yelling crowd of dim figures breasted the rocks and dashed +forward with the force of a hurricane upon the little body of Goorkhas. +In a second Derrick was fighting in the dark with mad enthusiasm for +bare foothold, and shouting at the top of his voice exhortations to his +men to keep together. + +It was a desperate struggle, but once more the little party of invaders +held their ground. And Derrick, yelling encouragement to his friends and +defiance to his foes, became vaguely conscious of a new element in the +strife. + +Someone, not a Goorkha, was standing beside him, fighting as he fought, +but in grim silence. + +Derrick wondered considerably, but was too busy to ask questions. Only +when he missed his footing, and a strong hand shot out and dragged him +up, his wonder turned to admiration. Here was evidently a mighty +fighting-man! + +The tribesmen drew off at length baffled, to wait for the moon to rise. +They were pretty sure of their prey despite the determined resistance +they had encountered. They did not know of the new force that had come +to strengthen that forsaken little knot of men. Had they known, their +estimate of the task before them would have undergone a very material +amendment. + +"Hullo!" said Derrick, rubbing his sleeve across his forehead. "Where on +earth did you spring from?" + +A steady voice answered him out of the gloom. "I came up from the +valley. The troops are halted at the entrance of the ravine. There will +be no further advance to-night." + +Derrick swore a sudden, fierce oath. + +"No further advance! Do you mean that? Then Carlyon doesn't know we are +here." + +"Oh, yes, he knows," answered the man indifferently. "But he says very +reasonably that he didn't order you to come up here, and he can't +sacrifice twice the number of men here to get you down again. +Unfortunate for you, of course; but we all have to swallow bad luck at +one time or another. Make the best of it!" + +Derrick swore again with less violence and greater resolution. + +"And who, in wonder, may you be?" he broke off to enquire. "I'm a war +correspondent myself." + +There was a vein of humour in the quiet reply. + +"Oh, I'm a non-combatant, too. It's always the non-combatants that do +the work. Have you got a revolver? Good! Any cartridges? That's right. +Now, look here, it's out of the question to remain in this place till +moonrise." + +"I won't go back," said Derrick doggedly. "I'll see Carlyon hang first." + +"Quite right. I wasn't going to propose that. It's impossible, in the +first place. Perhaps it is only fair to Colonel Carlyon to mention that +he had no notion that there is anything so important as a newspaper man +at the head of this expedition. It's a detail, of course. Still, if you +get through, it is just as well that you should know the rights of the +case." + +Derrick broke into an involuntary laugh. + +"Did Carlyon get you to come and tell me so?" He turned and peered +through the darkness at the man beside him. "You never got up here +alone?" he said incredulously. + +"Oh, yes. It wasn't difficult. I was guided by the noise you made. How +many men have you?" + +"Ten or twelve; not more--all Goorkhas." + +"Good! We must quit this place at once. It will be a death-trap when the +moon rises. There are some boulders higher up, away to the right. We +can occupy them till morning and fight back to back if they try to rush +us. There ought to be plenty of shelter among those rocks." + +The man's cool speech caught Derrick's fancy. He spoke as quietly as if +he were sitting at an English dinner-table. + +"You had better take command," said Derrick. + +"No, thanks; you are going to pull this through. Are you ready to move? +Pass the word to the men! And then all together! It is now or never!" + +A few seconds later they were stumbling in an indistinguishable mass +towards the haven indicated by the latest comer. It was a difficult +scramble, not the least difficult part of it being the task of keeping +in touch with each other. But Derrick's spirits returned at a bound with +this further adventure, and he began to rejoice somewhat prematurely in +his triumph over Carlyon's caution. + +The man who had come to his assistance kept at his elbow throughout the +climb. Not a word was spoken. The men moved like cats through the +dimness. Below them was a confused din of rifle-firing. Their advance +had evidently not been detected. + +"Silly owls! Wasting their ammunition!" murmured Derrick to the man +beside him. He received no response. A warning hand closed with a grip +on his elbow. And Derrick subsided. + +When the moon rose, magnificent and glowing from behind the mountains, +Derrick and his men looked down from a high perch on the hillside, and +watched a furious party of tribesmen charge and occupy their abandoned +position. + +"Now, this is good!" said Derrick, and he was in the act of firing his +revolver into the thick of the crowd below him when again the sinewy +hand of his unknown friend checked him. + +"Hold your fire, man!" the man said, in his quiet, unmoved voice. "You +will want it presently." + +But the stranger's hold tightened. He was standing in the shadow +slightly behind Derrick. + +"Wait!" he said. "They will find you soon enough. You are not in a +position to take the offensive." + +Derrick swung round with a restless word. And then he pulled up short. +He was facing a tribesman, gaunt and tall, with odd, light eyes that +glittered strangely in the moonlight. Derrick stared at the apparition, +dumbfounded. After a pause the man took his hand from the +correspondent's arm. + +"Don't give the show away for want of a little caution!" he said. "There +are your men to think of, remember. This is no picnic." + +Derrick was still staring hard at the strange figure before him. + +"I say," he said at length, "what in the name of wonder are you?" + +He heard a faint, contemptuous laugh. The unknown drew the end of his +_chuddah_ farther across his face. + +"You are marvellously guileless for a war correspondent," he said. And +he turned on his heel and stalked away into the shadows. + +Derrick stood gazing after him in stupefaction. + +"A Secret Service agent, is he?" he murmured at length to himself. "By +Jove! What a marvellous fake! On Carlyon's business, I suppose. Confound +Carlyon! I'll tell him what I think of him if I come through this all +right." + +Carlyon, in times of peace, was one of Derrick Rose's most intimate +friends. That Carlyon, upon whom he relied as upon a tower of strength +should fail him at such a pinch as this, and for motives of caution +alone, was a circumstance so preposterous and unheard-of that Derrick's +credulity was hardly equal to the strain. + +He began to wonder if this stranger who had guided him into safety, from +what he now realized to be a positive death-trap, had given him a wholly +unexaggerated account of Carlyon's attitude. + +He waited awhile, thinking the matter over with rising indignation; and +at length, as the noise below him subsided, he moved from his shelter to +find his informant. It was a rash thing to do, but prudence was not his +strong point. Moreover, the Secret Service man had aroused his +curiosity. He wanted to see more of this fellow. So, with an +indifference to danger, foolhardy, though too genuine to be +contemptible, he strolled across an unprotected space of moonlight to +join him. + +Two seconds later he was lying on his face, struggling with the futile, +convulsive effort of a stricken man to recover his footing. And even +while he struggled, he lost consciousness. + +He awoke at length as one awakes from a troublous dream, and looked +about him with a dazed consciousness of great tumult. + +The space in which he lay was no longer wide and empty. The white world +was peopled with demons that leapt and surged around his prostrate body. +And someone, a man in white, with naked, uplifted arms, stood above him +and quelled the tumult. + +Derrick saw it all, heard the mad yells lessen and die down, watched +with a dumb amazement the melting away of the fierce crowd. + +And then the man who stood over him turned suddenly and, kneeling, +lifted him from his prostrate position. It was a man in native dress +whose eyes held for Derrick an odd, half-familiar fascination. + +Where had he met those eyes before? Ah, he remembered. It was the Secret +Service man. And that was strange, too. For Carlyon always scoffed at +Secret Service men. Still, this was a small matter which, no doubt, +would right itself. Everything looked a little peculiar and distorted on +this night of wonders. Carlyon himself had sadly degenerated in his +opinion since the morning. Bother Carlyon! + +Suddenly a great sigh burst from Derrick, and the moonlight broke up +into tiny, dazzling fragments. The darkness was full of them, alive +with them. + +"Fire-flies!" gasped Derrick, and began to cough, at first slowly, with +pauses for breath, then quickly, spasmodically, convulsively. For breath +had finally failed him. + +The arm behind him raised him with the steady strength of iron muscles, +and a hand pressed his chest. But the coughing did not cease. It was the +anguished strife of wounded Nature to assert her damaged authority; the +wild, last effort to clutch and hold fast the elusive torch that, +flickering in the midst of darkness, is called life--the one priceless +possession of our little mortal treasury. + +And while he coughed and fought with the demon of suffocation Derrick +was strongly aware of the eyes that watched him, burning like two +brilliant blue points out of the darkness. Wonderful eyes! Steady, +strong, unflinching. The eyes of a friend--a true friend--not such an +one as Carlyon--Carlyon who had failed him. + +A thick, unexplored darkness fell upon Derrick as he thought of +Carlyon's desertion; and he forgot at length to wonder at the +strangeness of the night. + + + + +II + +A BROKEN FRIENDSHIP + + +By and bye, when the light dawned in his eyes, Derrick began to dream of +many strange things. + +But he came back at last out of the shadows, weak and faint and weary. +And then he found that he was in hospital and had been there for weeks. + +The discovery was rather staggering. Somehow he had never quite rid +himself of the impression that he was still lying on the great, rocky +boulder where the Secret Service man had so magically scattered his +enemies. But as life and full consciousness returned to him he became +aware that this had for weeks been no more than a fevered illusion. + +When he was at length fairly out of danger he was dispatched southwards +on the first stage of the homeward journey. + +He sailed for Home with his resentment against Carlyon yet strong upon +him. He had no parents. In his reckless young days, during the last +three years of his minority, Carlyon had been this boy's guardian. But +Derrick had been his own master for nearly four years, and the conscious +joy of independence was yet dear to his heart. He had no settled home of +his own, but he had plenty of money. And that, after all, was the +essential thing. + +He had been brought up with the daughter of a clergyman in whose home he +had lived all his early life. The two had grown up together in close +companionship. They had been comrades all their lives. + +Only of recent years, at the end of an uneventful college career, had +Derrick awakened to the astounding fact that Averil Eversley, his little +playmate, was a maiden sweet and comely whom he wanted badly for his +very own. She was three years younger than himself, but she had always +taken the lead in all their exploits. + +Derrick discovered for the first time that this was not a proper state +of affairs. He had tried, not over tactfully, to show her that man was, +after all, the superior animal. Averil had first stared at his efforts, +and then laughed with uncontrollable mirth. + +Then Derrick had set to work with splendid energy, and achieved in two +years a certain amount of literary success. Averil had praised him for +this; which reward of merit had so turned his head that he had at once +clumsily proposed to her. Averil had not laughed at that. She had +rejected him instantly, with so severe a scolding that Derrick had lost +his temper, and gone away to sulk. Later, he had turned his attention +again to journalistic work, hoping thereby to recover favour. + +Then, and this had brought him to the previous winter, he had returned +to find Averil going in for a little innocent hero-worship on her own +account. And Carlyon, his own particular friend and adviser, had +happened to be the hero. + +Whether Carlyon were aware of the state of affairs or not, Derrick in +his wrath had not stopped to enquire. He had simply and blindly gone +direct to the attack, with the result that Averil had been deeply and +irreconcilably offended, and Carlyon had so nearly kicked him for making +such a fool of himself that Derrick had retired in disgust from the +fray, had clamoured for and, with infinite difficulty, obtained a post +as war-correspondent in the ensuing Frontier campaign, and had departed +on his adventurous way, sulking hard. + +Later, Carlyon had sought him out, had shaken hands with him, called him +an impetuous young ass, and had enjoined him to stick to himself during +the expedition in which Derrick was thus recklessly determined to take +part. They had, in fact, been entirely reconciled, avoiding by mutual +consent the delicate ground of their dispute. Carlyon was a man of +considerable reputation on the Frontier, and Derrick Rose was secretly +proud of the friendship that existed between them. + +Now, however, the friendship had split to its very foundation. Carlyon +had failed him when life itself had been in the balance. + +Impetuous as he was, Derrick was not one to forgive quickly so gross an +injury as this. He did not think, moreover, that Averil herself would +continue to offer homage before so obvious a piece of clay as her idol +had proved himself to be. Derrick was beginning to apply to Carlyon the +most odious of all epithets--that of coward. + +He had set his heart upon a reconciliation with Averil, and earnestly he +hoped she would see the matter with his eyes. + + + + +III + +DERRICK'S PARADISE + + +"So it was the Secret Service man who saved your life," said Averil, +with flushed cheeks. "Really, Dick, how splendid of him!" + +"Finest chap I ever saw!" declared Derrick. "He looked about eight feet +high in native dress. I shall have to find that man some day, and tell +him what I think of him." + +"Yes, indeed!" agreed Averil. "I expect, you know, it was really Colonel +Carlyon who sent him." + +"Being too great a--strategist to advance himself," said Derrick. + +"But he didn't know you were at the head of the Goorkhas," Averil +reminded him. + +"Perhaps not," said Derrick. "But he knew I was there. And, putting me +out of the question altogether, what can you think of an officer who +will coolly leave a party of his men to be slaughtered like sheep in a +butcher's yard because the poor beggars happen to have got into a tight +place?" + +Derrick spoke with strong indignation, and Averil was silent awhile. +Presently, however, she spoke again, slowly. + +"I can't help thinking, Dick," she said, "that there is an explanation +somewhere. We ought not--it would not be fair--to say Colonel Carlyon +acted unworthily before he has had a chance of justifying himself." + +There was justice in this remark. Derrick, who was lying at the girl's +feet on the hearthrug in the Rectory drawing-room, reached up a bony +hand and took possession of one of hers. For Averil had received him +with a warmer welcome than he had deemed possible in his most sanguine +moments, and he was very happy in consequence. + +"All right," he said equably. "We'll shunt Carlyon for a bit, and talk +about ourselves. Shall we?" + +Averil drew the bony hand on to her lap and looked at it critically. + +"Poor old boy!" she said. "It is thin." + +Derrick drew himself up to a sitting position. There was an air of +mastery about him as he raised a determined face to hers. + +"Averil," he said suddenly, "you aren't going to send me to the +right-about again, are you?" + +"Oh, don't let us squabble on your first night!'" said Averil hastily. + +"Squabble!" the boy exclaimed, springing to his feet vigorously. "Do you +call--that--squabbling?" + +Averil stood up, too, tall and straight, and slightly defiant. + +"I don't want you to go away, Dick," she said, "if you can stay and +behave nicely. I thought it was horribly selfish of you to go off as you +did last winter. I think so still. If you had got killed, I should have +been very--very--" + +"What?" demanded Derrick impatiently. "Sorry? Angry--what?" + +"Angry," said Averil, with great decision. "I should never have forgiven +you. I am not sure that I shall, as it is." + +Derrick uttered a sudden passionate laugh. Then abruptly his mood +changed. He held out his hands to her. + +"Averil!" he said. "Averil! Can't you see how I want you--how I love +you? Why do you treat me like this? I've thought about you, dreamt about +you, day after day, night after night, ever since I went away. You +thought it beastly selfish of me to go. But it hasn't been such fun, +after all. All the weeks I was in hospital I felt sick for the sight of +you. It was worse than starvation. Can't you see what it is to me? Can't +you see that I--I worship you?" + +"My dear Dick!" Averil put her hands into his, but her gesture was one +of restraint. "You mustn't talk so wildly," she said. "And, dear boy, do +try not to be quite so impulsive--so headstrong. You know, you--you--" + +She broke off. Derrick, with a set jaw and burning eyes, was drawing her +to him, strongly, irresistibly. + +"Derrick!" she said, with a flash of anger. + +"I can't help it!" Derrick said passionately. "I've been counting on +this, living for this. Averil I--I--you can call me mad if you like, +but if you send me away again--I believe I shall shoot myself." + +"What nonsense!" exclaimed Averil, half-angry, half-scornful. + +He dropped her hands and stood quite still for the space of a few +seconds, his face white and twitching. And then, to her utter amazement, +he sank heavily into a chair and covered his face with his hands. + +"Dick!" she ejaculated. + +Silence followed the word, a breathless silence. Derrick sat perfectly +motionless, his fingers gripping his hair. At last Averil moved up to +him, a little frightened by his stillness, and very intensely +compassionate. She bent and touched his shoulder. + +"Dick!" she said. "Dick! Don't!" + +He stirred under her hand, but did not raise his head. "Get away, +Averil!" he muttered. "You don't understand." + +And quite suddenly Averil was transported back to the far, receding +schooldays, when Derrick had got into trouble for smoking his first +cigar. The memory unconsciously influenced her speech. + +"But, Dick," she said persuasively, "don't you think you are the least +bit in the world unreasonable? It's true I don't quite understand. We've +been such splendid chums all our lives, I really don't see why we should +begin to be anything different now. Besides, Dick"--there was appeal in +her voice--"I don't truly want to get married. It seems such a silly +thing to go and do when one had such really jolly times without. It does +spoil things so." + +Derrick sat up. He was still absurdly boyish, despite his +four-and-twenty years. + +"Look here, Averil!" he said doggedly. "If you won't have me, I'm not +going to hang about after you like a tame monkey. It's going to be one +thing or the other. I've made a big enough fool of myself over you. We +can't be chums, as you call it"--a passionate ring crept into his +voice--"when all the while you're holding me off at arm's length as if +I'd got the plague. So"--rising abruptly and facing her--"which is it to +be?" + +Averil looked at him. His face was still white, but his lips were +sternly compressed. He was weak no longer. She was conscious of a sudden +thrill of admiration banishing her pity. After all, was he indeed only a +boy? He scarcely seemed so at that moment. He was, moreover, straight +and handsome despite his gaunt appearance. + +"Answer me, Averil!" he said with determination. + +But Averil had no answer ready. She stood silent. + +Derrick laid his hand on her arm. It was a light touch, but somehow it +conveyed to her the fact that he was holding himself in with a tighter +rein than ever before. + +"Don't torture me!" he said, speaking quickly, nervously. "Tell me +either to stay or--go!" His voice dropped on the last word, and for a +second Averil saw the torture on his face. + +It was too much for her resolution. All her life she had been this boy's +chosen companion and confidante. She felt she could not turn from him +now in his distress, and deliberately break his heart. Yet for one +tumultuous second she battled with her impulse. Then--she yielded. +Somehow that look in Derrick's eyes compelled her. + +She put her hands on his shoulders. + +"Dick--stay!" she said. + +His arms closed round her in a second. "You mean--" he said, under his +breath. + +"Yes, Dick," she answered bravely, "I do mean. Dear boy, don't ever look +like that again! You have hurt me horribly." + +Derrick turned her face up to his own and kissed her repeatedly and +passionately. + +"You shall never regret it, my darling," he said. "You have turned my +world into a paradise. I will do the same for yours." + +"It doesn't take much to make me happy," Averil said, leaning her +forehead against his shoulder. "I hope you will be a kind master, Dick, +and let me have my own way sometimes." + +"Master?" scoffed Derrick, kissing her hair. "You know you can lead me +by the nose from world's end to world's end." + +"I wonder," said Averil, with a little sigh. "Do you know, Dick, I'm not +quite sure of that." + +"What!" said Derrick softly. "Not--quite--sure!" + +"Not when you look as you did thirty seconds ago," Averil explained. +"Never mind, dear old boy! I'm glad you can look like that, though, +mind, you must never, never do it again if you live to be a hundred." + +She looked up at him suddenly and clasped her hands behind his neck. +"You do love me, don't you, Dick?" she said. + +"My darling, I worship you!" Derrick answered very solemnly. + +And Averil drew his head down with a quivering smile and kissed him on +the lips. + + + + +IV + +CARLYON DEFENDS HIMSELF + + +"Ah, Derrick! I thought I could not be mistaken." + +Derrick turned swiftly at the touch of a hand on his shoulder, and +nearly tumbled into the roadway. He had been sauntering somewhat +aimlessly down the Strand till pulled up in this rather summary fashion. +He now found himself staring at a tall man who had come up behind him--a +man with a lined face and drooping eyelids, and a settled weariness +about his whole demeanour which, somehow, conveyed the impression that, +in his opinion, at least, there was nothing on earth worth striving for. + +Derrick recovered his balance and stood still before him. Speech, +however, quite unexpectedly failed him. The quiet greeting had scattered +his ideas momentarily. + +The hand that had touched his shoulder was deliberately transferred to +his elbow. + +"Come!" said his acquaintance, smiling a little. "We are blocking the +gangway. I am staying at the Grand. If you are at liberty you might dine +with me. By the way, how are you, old fellow?" + +He spoke very quietly and wholly without affectation. There was a touch +of tenderness in his last sentence that quite restored Derrick's +faculties. + +He shook his arm free from the other's hand with a vehemence of action +that was unmistakably hostile. + +"No, thanks, Colonel Carlyon!" he said, speaking fast and feverishly. +"If I were starving, I wouldn't accept hospitality from you!" + +"Don't be a fool!" said Carlyon. + +His tone was still quiet, but it was also stern. He pushed a determined +hand through Derrick's arm. "If you won't come my way," he said, "I +shall come yours." + +Derrick swore under his breath. But he yielded. "Very well," he said +aloud. "I'll come. But I swear I won't touch anything." + +"You needn't swear," said Carlyon; "it's unnecessary." + +And Derrick bit his lip nearly through, being exasperated. He did not, +however, resist the compelling hand a second time, realizing the +futility of such a proceeding. + +So in dead silence they reached the Grand and entered. Then Carlyon +spoke again. + +"Come up to my room first!" he said. + +Derrick went with him unprotesting. + +In his own room Carlyon turned round and took him by the shoulders. +"Now," he said, "are you ill or merely sulky? Just tell me which, and I +shall know how to treat you!" + +"It's no thanks to you I'm not dead!" exclaimed Derrick stormily. "I +didn't want to meet you, but, by Heaven, since I have, and since you +have forced an interview upon me, I'll go ahead and tell you what I +think of you." + +Carlyon turned away from him and sat down. "Do, by all means," he said, +"if it will get you into a healthier frame of mind!" + +But Derrick's flow of eloquence unexpectedly failed him at this +juncture, and he stood awkwardly silent. + +Carlyon turned round at last and looked at him. "Sit down, Dick," he +said patiently, "and stop being an ass! I'm a difficult man to quarrel +with, as you know. So sit down and state your grievance, and have done +with it!" + +"You know very well what's wrong!" Derrick burst out fiercely, +beginning to prowl to and fro. + +"Do I?" said Carlyon. He got up deliberately and intercepted Derrick. +"Just stop tramping," he said, with sudden sternness, "and listen to me! +You have your wound alone to thank for keeping you out of the worst mess +you ever got into. If you hadn't gone back in a hospital truck, you +would have gone back under escort. Do you understand that?" + +"Why?" flashed Derrick. + +"Why?" echoed Carlyon, striking him abruptly on the shoulder. "Tell me +your own opinion of a hot-headed, meddling young fool who not only got +into mischief himself at a most critical moment, but led half-a-score of +valuable men into what was practically a death-trap, for the sake of, I +suppose he would call it, an hour's sport. On my soul, Derrick," he +ended, with a species of quiet vigour that carried considerable weight +behind it, "if you weren't such a skeleton I'd give you a sound +thrashing for your sins. As it is, you will be wise to get off that high +horse of yours and take a back seat. I never have put up with this sort +of thing from you. And I never mean to." + +Derrick had no answer ready. He stood still, considering these things. + +Colonel Carlyon turned his back on him and cut the end of a cigar. "Do +you grasp my meaning?" he enquired at length, as Derrick remained +silent. + +Derrick moved to a chair and sat down. Somehow Carlyon had taken the +backbone out of his indignation. He spoke at last, but without anger. +"Even if it were as you say," he said, "I don't consider you treated me +decently." + +Carlyon suddenly laughed. "Even if by some odd chance I have actually +spoken the truth," he said, "I shall not, and do not, feel called upon +to justify my action for your benefit." + +"I think you owe me that," Derrick said quickly. + +"I disagree with you," Carlyon rejoined. "I owe you nothing whatever +except the aforementioned thrashing which must, unfortunately, under the +circumstances, remain a debt for the present." + +Derrick leant forward suddenly + +"Stop rotting, Carlyon!" he said, with impulsive earnestness. "I can't +help talking seriously. You didn't know, surely, what a tight fix we +were in? You couldn't have intended us to--to--die in the dark like +that?" + +"Intended!" said Carlyon sharply. "I never intended you to occupy that +position at all, remember." + +"Yes; but--since we were in that position, since--if you choose to put +it so--I exceeded all bounds and intentions and took those splendid +little Goorkhas into a death-trap; I may have been a headstrong, idiotic +fool to do it; but, granted all that, you did not deliberately and +knowingly leave us to be massacred? You couldn't have done actually +that." + +Carlyon laid his cigar-case on the table at Derrick's elbow, and lighted +his own cigar with great deliberation. + +"You may remember, Dick," he said quietly, after a pause, "that once +upon a time you wrote--and published--a book. It had its merits and it +had its faults. But a fool of a critic took it into his head to give you +a thorough slating. You were furious, weren't you? I remember giving you +a bit of sound advice over that book. Probably you have forgotten it. +But it chances to be one of the guiding principles of my life. It is +this: Never answer your critics! Go straight ahead!" + +He paused. + +"I remember," said Derrick. "Well?" + +"Well," said Carlyon gravely, "that is what I have done all my life, +what I mean to do now. You are in full possession of the facts of the +case. You have defined my position fairly accurately. I did know you +were in an impossible corner. I did know that you and the men with you +were in all probability doomed. And--I did not think good to send a +rescue. You do not understand the game of war. You merely went in for it +for the sake of sport, I for the sake of the stakes. There is a +difference. More than that I do not mean to say." + +He sat down opposite Derrick as he ended and began to smoke with an air +of indifference. But his eyes were on the boy's face. They had been +close friends for years. + +Derrick still sat forward. He was staring at the ground heavily, +silently Carlyon had given him a shock. Somehow he had not expected from +him this cool acknowledgment of an action from which he himself shrank +with unspeakable abhorrence. + +To leave a friend in the lurch was, in Derrick's eyes, an act so +infamous that he would have cut his own throat sooner than be guilty of +it. It did not occur to him that Carlyon might have urged extenuating +circumstances, but had rather scornfully abstained from doing so. + +He did not even consider the fact that, as commanding-officer, Carlyon's +responsibility for the lives in his charge was a burden not to be +ignored or lightly borne. He did not consider the risk to these same +valuable lives that a rescue in force would have involved. + +He saw only himself fighting for a forlorn hope, his grinning little +Goorkhas gallantly and intrepidly following wherever he would lead, and +he saw the awful darkness down which his feet had stumbled, a terrible +chasm that had yawned to engulf them all. + +He sat up at last and looked straight at Carlyon. He spoke slowly, with +an effort. + +"If it had been only myself," he said, "I--perhaps, I might have found +it easier. But there were the men, my men. You could not alter your +plans by one hair's-breadth to save their gallant lives. I can't get +over that. I never shall. You left us to die like rats in a hole. But +for a total stranger--a spy, a Secret Service man--we should have been +cut to pieces, every one of us. You did not, I suppose, send that man to +help us out?" + +Carlyon blew a cloud of smoke upwards. He frowned a little, but his look +was more one of boredom than annoyance. + +"What exactly are you talking about?" he said. "I don't employ spies. As +to Secret Service agents, I think you have heard my opinion of them +before." + +"Yes," said Derrick. He rose with an air of finality. His young face was +very stern. "He was probably attached to General Harford's division. He +found us in a fix, and he helped us out of it. He knew the land. We +didn't. He was the most splendid fighting-man I ever saw. He tried to +stick up for you, too--said you didn't know. That, of course, was a +mistake. You did know, and are not ashamed to own it." + +"Not in the least," said Carlyon. + +"The men couldn't have held out without him," Derrick continued. "After +I was hit, he stood by them. He only took himself off just before +morning came and you ventured to move to our assistance." + +"He had no possible right to do it," observed Carlyon thoughtfully +ignoring the bitter ring of sarcasm in the boy's tone. + +"Oh, none whatever," said Derrick. He spoke hastily, jerkily, as a man +not sure of himself. "No doubt his life was Government property, and he +had no right to risk it. Still he did it, and I am weak-minded enough to +be grateful. My own life may be worthless; at least, it was then. And I +would not have survived my Goorkhas. But he saved them, too. That, odd +as it may seem to you, made all the difference to me." + +"Is your life more valuable now than it was a few months ago?" enquired +Carlyon, in a casual tone. + +"Yes," said Derrick shorty. + +"Has Averil accepted you?" Carlyon asked him point-blank. + +"Yes," said Derrick again. + +There was a momentary pause. Then: "Permit me to offer my +felicitations!" said Carlyon, through a haze of tobacco-smoke. + +Derrick started as if stung. "I beg you won't do anything of the sort!" +he said with vehemence. "I don't want your good wishes. I would rather +be without them. I may be a hare-brained fool. I won't deny it. But as +for you--you are a blackguard--the worst sort of blackguard! I hope I +shall never speak to you again!" + +Carlyon, lying back in his chair, neither stirred nor spoke. He looked +up at Derrick from beneath steady eyelids. But he offered him nothing in +return for his insulting words. + +Derrick waited for seconds. Then patience and resolution alike failed +him. He swung round abruptly on his heel and walked out of the room. + +As for Colonel Carlyon, he did not rise from his chair till he had +conscientiously finished his cigar. He had stuck to his principles. He +had not answered his critic. Incidentally he had borne more from that +critic than any man had ever before dared to offer him, more than he had +told Derrick himself that he would bear. Yet Derrick had gone away from +the encounter with a whole skin in order that Colonel Carlyon might +stick to his principles. Carlyon's forbearance was a plant of peculiar +growth. + + + + +V + +A WOMAN'S FORGIVENESS + + +"Colonel Carlyon," said Averil, turning to face him fully, her eyes very +bright, "will you take the trouble to make me understand about Derrick? +I have been awaiting an opportunity to ask you ever since I heard about +it." + +Carlyon paused. They chanced to be staying simultaneously in the house +of a mutual friend. He had arrived only the previous evening, and till +that moment had scarcely spoken to the girl. + +Carlyon smothered an involuntary sigh. He could have wished that this +girl, with her straight eyes and honest speech, would have spared him +the explanation which she had made such speed to demand of him. + +"Make you understand, Miss Eversley!" he said, halting deliberately +before a bookcase. "What exactly is it that you do not understand?" + +"Everything," Averil said, with a comprehensive gesture. "I have always +believed that you thought more of Derrick than anything else in the +world." + +"Ah!" said Carlyon quietly. "That is probably the root of the +misunderstanding. Correct that, and the rest will be comparatively +easy." + +He took a book from the shelf before him and ran a quick eye through its +pages. After a brief pause he put the volume back and joined the girl on +the hearthrug. + +"Is my behaviour still an enigma?" he said, with a slight smile. + +She turned to him impulsively. "Of course," she said, colouring vividly, +"I am aware that to a celebrated man like you the opinion of a nobody +like myself cannot matter one straw. But--" + +"Pardon me!" Carlyon gravely. "Even celebrated men are human, you know. +They have their feelings like the rest of mankind. I shall be sorry to +forfeit your good opinion. But I have no means of retaining it. Derrick +cannot see my point of view. You, of course, will share his +difficulties." + +"That does not follow, does it?" said Averil. + +"I should say so," said Carlyon. "You see, Miss Eversley, you have +already told me that you do not understand my action. Non-comprehension +in such a matter is synonymous with disapproval. You are, no doubt, in +full possession of the facts. More than the bare facts I cannot give +you. I will not attempt to justify myself where I admit no guilt." + +"No," Averil said. "Pray don't think I am asking you to do anything of +the sort! Only, Colonel Carlyon," she laid a pleading hand on his arm +and lifted a very anxious face, "you remember we used to be friends, if +you will allow the presumption of such a term. Won't you even try to +show me your point of view in this matter? I think I could understand. I +want to understand." + +Carlyon leant his elbow on the mantelpiece and looked very gravely into +the girl's troubled eyes. + +"You are very generous, Averil," he said. + +"Generous," she echoed, with a touch of impatience. "No; I only want to +be just--for my own sake. I hate to take a narrow, cramped view of +things. I hate that Dick should. A few words from you would set us both +right, and we could all be friends again." + +"Ah!" said Carlyon. "But suppose--I have nothing to say?" + +"You must have something!" she declared vehemently. "You never do +anything without a reason." + +"Generous again!" said Carlyon. + +"Oh, don't laugh at me!" cried Averil, stung by the quiet unconcern of +his words. + +He straightened himself instantly, his face suddenly stern. "At least +you wrong me there!" he said, and before the curt reproof of his tone +she felt humbled and ashamed. "Listen to me a moment! You want my point +of view clearly stated. You shall have it. + +"I am employed by a blundering Government to do a certain task which +bigger men shirk. Carlyon of the Frontier, they say, will stick at no +dirty job. I undertake the task. I lay my plans--subtle plans which you, +with your blind British generosity, would neither understand nor +approve. I proceed to carry them out. I am within sight of the end and +success, when an idiotic fool of a boy, who is not so much as a +combatant himself, blunders into the business and throws the whole +scheme out of gear. He assumes the leadership of a dozen stranded +Goorkhas, and instead of bringing them back he drags them forward into +an impossible position, and then expects a rescue. + +"I meanwhile have my own work to do. I am responsible to the Government +for the lives of my men. I cannot expend them on other than Government +work. + +"On one side of the scale is this same Government and the plans made in +its interest; on the other the life of a boy, strategically speaking, +worth nothing, and the lives of half-a-score of fighting men, already +accounted a loss. It may astonish you to know that the Government turned +the scale. Those who had incurred the penalty of rashness were left to +pay it. That, Miss Eversley, is all I have to say. You will be good +enough to remember that I have said it at your request and not in my own +defence." + +He ceased to speak as abruptly as he had begun. He was standing at his +full height, and, tall though she was, Averil felt unaccountably small +and insignificant before him. Curtly, almost rudely, as he had spoken, +she admired him immensely for the stern code of honour he professed. + +She did not utter a word for several seconds. He had impressed her very +strongly. She stayed to weigh his words in the balance of her own +judgment. + +"It is a man's point of view," she said slowly at last, "not a woman's." + +"Even so," said Carlyon, dropping back suddenly to his former attitude. + +She looked at him very earnestly, her brows drawn together. + +"You have not told me about the Secret Service man," she said at length. +"You sent him, did you not, on the forlorn chance of saving Dick?" + +Carlyon shook his head in a grim disclaimer. + +"Derrick's information was the first I heard of the individual," he +said. "I was unaware of the existence of a Secret Service agent within a +radius of fifty miles. I believe General Harford encourages the breed. I +do the precise opposite. I have no faith in professional spies in that +part of the world. Russian territory is too near, and Russian gold too +tempting." + +Averil's face fell. "Colonel Carlyon," she said, in a very small voice, +"forgive me, but--but--you cannot be so hard as you sound. You are fond +of Dick, surely?" + +"Yes," he said deliberately. "I am fond of you both, if I may be +permitted to say so." + +Averil coloured a little. "Thank you," she said. "I shall try presently +to make him understand." + +"Understand what?" said Carlyon curiously. + +"Your feeling in the matter." + +"My what?" he said roughly. Then hastily, "I beg your pardon, Miss +Eversley. But are you sure you understand it yourself?" + +"I am doing my best," she said, in a low voice. + +"But you are sorely disappointed, nevertheless," he said, in a more +kindly tone. "You expected something different. Well, it can't be +helped. I should leave Dick's convictions alone, if I were you. At least +he has no illusions left with regard to Carlyon of the Frontier." + +There was an involuntary touch of sadness in the man's quiet speech. He +no longer looked at Averil, and his face in repose wore an expression of +unutterable weariness. + +Averil held out her hand with an abrupt, childlike impulse. + +"Colonel Carlyon," she said, speaking very rapidly, "you are right. I +don't understand. I think you hold too stern a view of your +responsibilities. I believe no woman could think otherwise. But at the +same time I do still believe you are a good man. I shall always believe +it." + +Carlyon glanced at her quickly. Her face was flushed, her eyes very +eager. He looked away again almost instantly, but he took her +outstretched hand. + +"Thank you, Averil," he said gravely. "I believe under the circumstances +few women would have said the same. Tell me! Did I hear a rumour that +you are going out to India yourself very shortly?" + +She nodded. "I have almost promised to go," she said. "I have a married +sister at Sharapura. I wrote to her of my engagement, and she wrote +back, begging me to go to her if I could. She and her husband have been +disappointed several times about coming home, and it is still uncertain +when they will manage it. She wants to see me before I marry and settle +down, she says." + +"And you want to go?" + +"Of course I do," said Averil, with enthusiasm. "It has always been a +standing promise that I should go some day." + +"And what does Derrick say to it?" + +"Oh, Dick! He was very cross at first. But I have propitiated him by +promising to marry him as soon as I get back, which will be probably +this time next year." + +Averil's face grew suddenly grave. + +"I hope you will both be very happy," said Carlyon, rather formally. + +"Thank you," said Averil, looking up at him. "It would make me much +happier if--you and Dick could be friends before then." + +"Would it?" said Carlyon thoughtfully. "I wonder why." + +"I should like my friends to be Dick's friends," she said, with slight +hesitation. + +Carlyon smiled a little. "Forgive me, Miss Eversley, for being +monotonous!" he said.... "But, once more--how generous!" + +Averil turned sharply away, inexplicably hurt by what she considered the +note of mockery in his voice, and went out, leaving him alone before the +fire. Emphatically this man was entirely beyond her understanding. + +But, nevertheless, when they met again, she had forgiven him. + + + + +VI + +FIEND OR KING? + + +"Hullo, doctor! What news?" sang out a curly-haired subaltern on the +steps of the club, a newly-erected, wooden bungalow of which the little +Frontier station was immensely proud. "You're looking infernally +serious. What's the matter?" + +Dr. Seddon rolled stoutly off his steaming pony and went to join his +questioner. + +"What do you think you're doing, Toby?" he said, with a glance at an +enormous pair of scissors in the boy's hand. + +"I'm making lamp-shades," Toby responded, leading the way within. +"What's your drink? Nothing? What a horribly dry beast you are! Yes, +lamp-shades--for the ball, you know. Got to be ready by to-morrow night. +We're doing them with crinkly paper. Miss Eversley promised to come and +help me. But she hasn't turned up." + +"What?" exclaimed Seddon. "Not come back yet?" + +Toby dropped his scissors with a clatter, and dived for them under the +reading-room table. + +"Don't make me jump, I say, doctor!" he said pathetically. "I'm quite +upset enough as it is. That lazy lout, Soames, won't stir a finger. The +other chaps are on duty. And Miss Eversley has proved faithless. Why +can't you turn to and help?" + +But Seddon was already striding to the door again in hot haste. + +"That idiot of a girl must have crossed the Frontier!" he said, as he +went. "There was a fellow shot on sentry-go last night. It's infernally +dangerous, I tell you!" + +Toby raced after him swearing inarticulately. A couple of subalterns +just entering were nearly overwhelmed by their vigorous exit. They +recovered themselves and followed to the tune of Toby's excited +questioning. But none of the party got beyond the veranda steps, for +there the sound of clattering hoofs arrested them, and a jaded horse +bearing a dishevelled rider was pulled up short in front of the club. + +"Miss Eversley herself!" cried Toby, making a dash forward. + +A native servant slipped unobtrusively to the sweating horse's bridle. +Averil was on the ground in a moment and turned to ascend the steps of +the club-house. + +"Is my brother-in-law here?" she said to Toby, accepting the hand he +offered. + +"Who? Raymond? No; he's in the North Camp somewhere. Do you want him? +Anything wrong? By Jove, Miss Eversley, you've given us an awful +fright!" + +Averil went up the steps with so palpable an effort that Seddon hastily +dragged forward a chair. Her lips, as she answered Toby, were quite +colourless. + +"I have had a fright myself," she said. Then she looked round at the +other men with a shaky laugh. "I have been riding for my life," she said +a little breathlessly. "I have never done that before. It--it's very +exciting--almost more so than riding to hounds. I have often wondered +how the fox felt. Now I know." + +She ignored the chair Seddon placed for her, turning to the boy called +Toby with great resolution. + +"Those lamp-shades, Mr. Carey," she said. "I'm sorry I'm so late. You +must have thought I was never coming. In fact"--the colour was returning +to her face, and her smile became more natural--"I thought so myself a +few minutes ago. Let us set to work at once!" + +Toby burst into a rude whoop of admiration and flung a ball of string +into the air. + +"Miss Eversley, well done! Well done!" he gasped. "You--you deserve a +V.C.!" + +"Indeed I don't," she returned. "I have been running away hard." + +"Tell us all about it, Miss Eversley!" urged one of her listeners. "You +have been across the Frontier, now, haven't you? What happened? Someone +tried to snipe you from afar?" + +But Miss Eversley refused to be communicative. "I am much too busy," she +said, "to discuss anything so unimportant. Come, Mr. Carey, the +lamp-shades!" + +Toby bore her off in triumph to inspect his works of art. There was a +good deal of understanding in Toby's head despite its curls which he +kept so resolutely cropped. He attended to business without a hint of +surprise or inattention. And he was presently rewarded for his good +behaviour. + +Averil, raising her eyes for a moment from one of the shades which she +was tacking together while he held it in shape, said presently: + +"A very peculiar thing happened to me this morning, Mr. Carey." + +"Yes?" he replied, trying to keep the note of expectancy out of his +voice. + +Averil nodded gravely. "I crossed the Frontier," she said, "and rode +into the mountains. I thought I heard a child crying. I lost my way and +fell among thieves." + +"Yes?" said Toby again. He looked up, frankly interested this time. + +"I was shot at," she resumed. "It was my own fault, of course. I +shouldn't have gone. My brother-in-law warned me very seriously against +going an inch beyond the Frontier only last night. Well, one buys one's +experience. I certainly shall never go again, not for a hundred wailing +babies." + +"Probably a bird," remarked Toby practically. + +"Probably," assented Averil, equally practical. "To continue: I didn't +know what to do. I was horribly frightened. I had lost my bearings. And +then out of the very midst of my enemies there came a friend." + +"Ah!" said Toby quickly. "The right sort?" + +"There is only one sort," she said, with a touch of dignity. + +"And what did he do?" said Toby, with eager interest. + +"He simply took my bridle and ran by my side till we were out of +danger," Averil said, a sudden soft glow creeping up over her face. + +Toby looked at her very seriously. "In native rig, I suppose?" he said. + +"Yes," said Averil. + +"Carlyon of the Frontier," said Toby, with abrupt decision. + +She nodded. "I did not know he had left England," she said. + +"He hasn't--officially speaking," said Toby. He was watching her +steadily. "Do you know, Miss Eversley," he said, "I think I wouldn't +mention your discovery to any one else?" + +"I am not going to," she said. + +"No? Then why did you tell me?" he asked, with a tinge of rude suspicion +in his voice. + +Averil looked him suddenly and steadily in the face. It was a very +innocent face that Toby Carey presented to a serenely credulous world. + +"Because," said Averil slowly, "he told me to tell you alone. 'Tell Toby +Carey only,' he said, 'to watch when the beasts go down to drink.' They +were his last words." + +"Good!" said Toby unconcernedly. "Then he knew you recognized him?" + +"Yes," Averil said; "he knew." She smiled faintly as she said it. "He +told me he was in no danger," she added. + +"Is he a friend of yours?" asked Toby sharply. + +"Yes," said Averil, with pride. + +"I'm sorry to hear it," said Toby bluntly. + +"Why?" she asked, with a swift flash of anger. + +"Why?" he echoed vehemently. "Ask your brother-in-law, ask Seddon, ask +any one! The man is a fiend!" + +Averil sprang to her feet in sudden fury. + +"How dare you!" she cried passionately. "He is a king!" + +Toby stared for a moment, then grew calm. "We are not talking about the +same man, Miss Eversley," he said shortly. "The man I know is a fiend +among fiends. The man you know is, no doubt--different." + +But Averil swept from the club-room without a word. She was very angry +with Toby Carey. + + + + +VII + +THE REAL COLONEL CARLYON + + +Averil rode back to her brother-in-law's bungalow, vexed with herself, +weary at heart, troubled. She had arrived at the station among the +mountains on the Frontier two months before, and had spent a very happy +time there with the sister whom she had not seen for years. The ladies +of the station numbered a very scanty minority, but there was no lack of +gaiety and merriment on that account. + +That the hills beyond the Great Frontier were peopled by tribes in a +seething state of discontent was a matter known, but little recked of, +by the majority of the community. Officers went their several ways, +fully awake to threatening rumours, but counting them of small +importance. They went to their sport; to their polo, their racing, +their gymkhanas, with light hearts and in perfect security. They lay +down in the dread shadow of a mighty Empire and slept secure in the very +jaws of danger. + +The fierce and fanatical hatred that raged over the Frontier was less +than nothing to most of them. The power that sheltered them was wholly +sufficient for their confidence. + +The toughness of the good northern breed is of a quality untearable, +made to endure in all climates, under all conditions. Ordered to carry +revolvers, they stuffed them unloaded into side-pockets, or left them in +the hands of _syces_ to bear behind them. + +Proof positive of their total failure to realize the danger that +threatened from amidst the frowning, grey-cragged mountains was the fact +that their womenkind were allowed to remain at the station, and even +rode and drove forth unattended on the rocky, mountain roads. + +True, they were warned against crossing the Frontier. A few officers, of +whom Captain Raymond, who was Averil's brother-in-law, and Toby Carey, +the innocent-faced subaltern, were two, saw the rising wave from afar; +but they saw it vaguely as inevitable but not imminent. Captain Raymond +planned to himself to send his wife and her sister to Simla before the +monsoon broke up the fine weather. + +And this was all he accomplished beyond administering a severe reprimand +to his young sister-in-law for running into danger among the hills. + +"There are always thieves waiting to bag anyone foolish enough to show +his nose over the border," he said. "Isn't the Indian Empire large +enough for you that you must needs go trespassing among savages?" + +Averil heard him out with the patience of a slightly wandering +attention. She had not recounted the whole of her experience for his +benefit, nor did she intend to do so. She was still wondering what the +mysterious message she had delivered to Toby Carey might be held to +mean. + +When Captain Raymond had exhausted himself she went away to her own room +and sat for a long while gazing towards the great mountains, thinking, +thinking. + +Her sister presently joined her. Mrs. Raymond was a dark-eyed, +merry-hearted little woman, the gay originator of many a frolic, and an +immense favourite with men and women alike. + +"Poor darling! I declare Harry has made you look quite miserable!" was +her exclamation, as she ran lightly in and seated herself on the arm of +Averil's chair. + +"Harry!" echoed Averil, in a tone of such genuine scorn that Mrs. +Raymond laughed aloud. + +"You're very rude," she said. "Still, I'm glad Harry isn't the offender. +Who is it, I wonder? But, never mind! I have a splendid piece of news +for you, dear. Shut your eyes and guess!" + +"Oh, I can't indeed!" protested Averil. "I am much too tired." + +Mrs. Raymond looked at her with laughing eyes. + +"There! She shan't be teased!" she cried gaily. "It's the loveliest +surprise you ever had, darling; but I can't keep it a secret any longer. +I wanted to see him now that he is grown up, and quite satisfy myself +that he is really good enough for you. So, dear, I wrote to him and +begged him to join us here. And the result is--now guess!" + +Averil had turned sharply to look at her. + +"Do you mean you have asked Dick to come here?" she said, in a quick, +startled way. + +"Exactly, dear; I actually have," said Mrs. Raymond. "More--we had a +wire this morning. He will be here to dinner." + +"Oh!" said Averil. She rose hastily, so hastily that her sister was left +sitting on the arm of the bamboo chair, which instantly overturned on +the top of her. + +Averil extricated her with many laughing apologies, and, by the time +Mrs. Raymond had recovered her equilibrium, the younger girl had lost +her expression of astonishment and was looking as bright and eager as +her sister could desire. + +"Only Dick is such a madcap," she said. "How shall we keep him from +getting up to mischief in No Man's Land precisely as I have done?" + +Mrs. Raymond opined that Averil ought by then to have discovered the +secret of managing the young man, and they went to _tiffin_ on the +veranda in excellent spirits. + +Dr. Seddon was there and young Steele, one of Raymond's subalterns. +Averil found herself next to the doctor, who, rather to her surprise, +forebore to twit her with her early morning adventure. He was, in fact, +very grave, and she wondered why. + +Steele, strolling by her side in the shady compound, by and bye +volunteered information. + +"Poor old Seddon is in a mortal funk," he said, "which accounts for his +wretched appetite. He has been wasting steadily ever since Carlyon went +away. He thinks Carlyon is the only fellow capable of taking care of +him. No one else is monster enough." + +"Is Colonel Carlyon expected out here?" Averil asked, in a casual tone. + +One of Steele's eyelids contracted a little as if it wanted to wink. He +answered her in a low voice: "Carlyon is never expected before his +arrival, Miss Eversley." + +"No?" said Averil indifferently. "And, why, please do you call him a +monster?" + +Steele laughed a little. "Didn't you know?" he said. "Why, he is the +King of Evil in these parts!" + +Averil felt her face slowly flushing. "I don't understand," she said. + +"Don't you?" said Steele. "Honestly now?" + +The flush heightened. "Of course I don't," she said. "Otherwise why +should I tell you so?" + +"Pardon!" said Steele, unabashed. "Well, then, you must know that we are +all frightened of Carlyon of the Frontier. We hate him badly, but he has +the whip-hand of us, and so we have to do the tame trot for him. Over +there"--he jerked his head towards the mountains--"they would lie down +in a row miles long and let him walk over their necks. And not a single +blackguard among them would dare to stab upwards, because Carlyon is +immortal, as everyone knows, and it wouldn't be worth the blackguard's +while to survive the deed. + +"They don't call him Carlyon in the mountains, but it's the same man, +for all that. He is a prophet, a deity, among them. They believe in him +blindly as a special messenger from Heaven. And he plays with them, +barters them, betrays them, every single day he spends among them. He is +strong, he is unscrupulous, he is merciless. He respects no friendship. +He keeps no oath. He betrays, he tortures, he slays. Even we, the +enlightened race, shrink from him as if he were the very fiend +incarnate. + +"But he is a valuable man. The information he obtains is priceless. But +he trades with blood. He lives on treachery. He is more subtle than the +subtlest Pathan. He would betray any one or all of us to death if it +were to the interest of the Empire that we should be sacrified. That, +you know, in reason, is all very well. But, personally, I would sooner +tread barefoot on a scorpion than get entangled in Carlyon's web. He is +more false and more cruel than a serpent. At least, that is his +reputation among us. And those heathen beggars trust him so utterly." + +Steele stopped abruptly. He had spoken with strong passion. His honest +face was glowing with indignation. He was British to the backbone, and +he loathed all treachery instinctively. + +Suddenly he saw that the girl beside him had turned very white. He +paused in his walk with an awkward sense of having spoken unadvisedly. + +"Of course," he said, with a boyish effort to recover his ground, "it +has to be done. Someone must do the dirty work. But that doesn't make +you like the man who does it a bit the better. One wouldn't brush +shoulders with the hangman if one knew it." + +Averil was standing still. Her hands were clenched. + +"Are you talking of Colonel Carlyon--my friend?" she said slowly. + +Steele turned sharply away from the wide gaze of her grey eyes. + +"I hope not, Miss Eversley," he said. "The man I mean is not fit to be +the friend of any woman." + + + + +VIII + +THE STRANGER ON THE VERANDA + + +It was to all outward seeming a very gay crowd that assembled at the +club-house on the following night for the first dance of the season. +For some unexplained reason sentries had been doubled on all sides of +the Camp, but no one seemed to have any anxiety on that account. + +"We ought to feel all the safer," laughed Mrs. Raymond when she heard. +"No one ever took such care of us before." + +"It must be all rot," said Derrick who had arrived the previous evening +in excellent spirits. "If there were the smallest danger of a rising you +wouldn't be here." + +"Quite true," laughed Mrs. Raymond, "unless the road to Fort Akbar is +considered unsafe." + +"I never saw a single border thief all the way here!" declared Derrick, +departing to look for Averil. + +He claimed the first waltz imperiously, and she gave it to him. She was +the prettiest girl in the room, and she danced with a queenly grace of +movement. Derrick was delighted. He did not like giving her up, but +Steele was insistent on this point. He had made Derrick's acquaintance +in the Frontier campaign of a year before, and he parted the two without +scruple, declaring he would not stand by and see a good chap like +Derrick make a selfish beast of himself on such an occasion. + +Derrick gave place with a laugh and sought other partners. In the middle +of the evening Toby Carey strolled up to Averil and bent down in a +conversational attitude. He was not dancing himself. She gave him a +somewhat cold welcome. + +After a few commonplace words he took her fan from her hand and +whispered to her behind it: + +"There's a fellow on the veranda waiting to speak to you," he said. +"Calls himself a friend." + +Her heart leapt at the murmured words. She glanced hurriedly round. +Everyone in the room was dancing. She had pleaded fatigue. She rose +quietly and stepped to the window, Toby following. + +She stood a moment on the threshold of the night and then passed slowly +out. All about her was dark. + +"Go on to the steps!" murmured Toby behind her. "I shall keep watch." + +She went on with gathering speed. At the head of the veranda-steps she +dimly discerned a figure waiting for her, a figure clothed in some +white, muffling garment that seemed to cover the face. And yet she knew +by all her bounding pulses whom she had found. + +"Colonel Carlyon!" she said, and on the impulse of the moment she gave +him both her hands. + +His quiet voice answered her out of the strange folds. "Come into the +garden a moment!" he said. + +She went with him unquestioning, with the confidence of a child. He led +her with silent, stealthy tread into the deepest gloom the compound +afforded. Then he stopped and faced her with a question that sent a +sudden tumult of doubt racing through her brain. + +"Will you take a message to Fort Akbar for me, Averil?" he said. "A +matter of life and death." + +A message! Averil's heart stood suddenly-still. All the evil report that +she had heard of this man raised its head like a serpent roused from +slumber, a serpent that had hidden in her breast, and a terrible agony +of fear took the place of her confidence. + +Carlyon waited for her answer without a sign of impatience. Through her +mind, as it were on wheels of fire, Steele's passionate words were +running: "He lives on treachery. He would betray any one or all of us to +death if it were to the interest of the Empire that we should be +sacrificed." And again: "I would sooner tread barefoot on a scorpion +than get entangled in Carlyon's web." + +All this she would once have dismissed as vilest calumny. But Carlyon's +abandonment of Derrick, and his subsequent explanation thereof, were +terribly overwhelming evidence against him. And now this man, this spy, +wanted to use her as an instrument to accomplish some secret end of his. + +A matter of life or death, he said. And for which of these did he +purpose to use her efforts? Averil sickened at the possibilities the +question raised in her mind. And still Carlyon waited for her answer. + +"Why do you ask me?" she said at last, in a quivering whisper. "What is +the message you want to send?" + +"You delivered a message for me only yesterday without a single +question," he said. + +She wrung her hands together in the darkness. "I know. I know," she +said; "but then I did not realize." + +"You saved the camp from destruction," he went on. "Will you not do the +same to-night?" + +"How shall I know?" she sobbed in anguish. + +"What have they been telling you?" + +The quiet voice came in strange contrast to the agitated uncertainty of +her tones. Carlyon laid steady hands on her shoulders. In the dim light +his eyes had leapt to blue flame, sudden, intense. She hid her face from +their searching; ashamed, horrified at her own doubts--yet still +doubting. + +"Your friendship has stood a heavier strain than this," Carlyon said, +with grave reproach. + +But she could not answer him. She dared scarcely face her own thoughts +privately, much less utter them to him. + +What if he were urging the tribes to rise to give the Government a +pretext for war? She had heard him say that peace had come too soon, +that war alone could remedy the evil of constantly recurring outrages +along that troublous Frontier. + +What if he counted the lives of a few women and their gallant protectors +as but a little price to pay for the accomplishment of this end? + +What if he purposed to make this awful sacrifice in the interests of the +Empire, and only asked this thing of her because no other would +undertake it? + +She lifted her face. He was still looking at her with those strange, +burning eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul. + +"Averil," he said, "you may do a great thing for the Empire to-night--if +you will." + +The Empire! Ah, what fearful things would he not do behind that mask! +Yet she stood silent, bound by the spell of his presence. + +Carlyon went on. "There is going to be a rising, but we shall hold our +own, I hope without loss. You can ride a horse, and I can trust you. +This message must be delivered to-night. There is not an officer at +liberty. I would not send one if there were. Every man will be wanted. +Averil, will you go for me?" + +He was holding her very gently between his hands. He seemed to be +pleading with her. Her resolution began to waver. They had shattered her +idol, yet she clung fast to the crumbling shrine. + +"You will not let them be killed?" she whispered piteously. "Oh, promise +me!" + +"No one belonging to this camp will be killed if I can help it," he +said. "You will tell them at Fort Akbar that we are prepared here. +General Harford is marching to join them from Fort Wara. Whatever they +may hear they must not dream of moving to join us till he reaches them. +They are not strong enough. They would be cut to pieces. That is the +message you are going to take for me. Their garrison is too small to be +split up, and Fort Akbar must be protected at all costs. It is a more +important post than this even." + +"But there are women here," Averil whispered. + +"They are under my protection," said Carlyon quietly. "I want you to +start at once--before we shut the gates." + +"Have they taken you by surprise, then?" she asked, with a sharp, +involuntary shiver. + +"No," Carlyon said. "They have taken the Government by surprise. That's +all." He spoke with strong bitterness. For he was the watchman who had +awaked in vain. + +A moment later he was drawing her with him along the shadowy path. + +"You need have no fear," he whispered to her. "The road is open all the +way. I have a horse waiting that will carry you safely. It is barely ten +miles. You have done it before." + +"Am I to go just as I am?" she asked him, carried away by his +unfaltering resolution. + +"Yes," said Carlyon, "except for this." He loosened the _chuddah_ from +his own head and stooped to muffle it about hers. "I have provided for +your going," he said. "You will see no one. You know the way. Go hard!" + +He moved on again. His arm was round her shoulders. + +"And you?" she said, with sudden misgiving. + +"I shall go back to the camp," he said, "when I have seen you go." + +They went a little farther, ghostly, white figures gliding side by +side. Wildly as her heart was beating, Averil felt that it was all +strangely unreal, felt that the man beside her was a being unknown and +mysterious, almost supernatural. And yet, strangely, she did not fear +him. As she had once said to him, she believed he was a good man. She +would always believe it. And yet was that awful doubt hammering through +her brain. + +They reached the bounds of the club compound and Carlyon stopped again. +From the building behind them there floated the notes of a waltz, weird, +dream-like, sweet as the earth after rain in summer. + +"I want to know," Carlyon said steadily, "if you trust me." + +She stretched up her hands like a child and laid them against his +breast. She answered him with piteous entreaty in which passion +strangely mingled. + +"Colonel Carlyon," she whispered brokenly, "promise me that when this is +over you will give it up! You were not made to spy and betray! You were +made an honourable, true-hearted man--God's greatest and best creation. +You were never meant to be twisted and warped to an evil use. Ah, tell +me you will give it up! How can I go away and leave you toiling in the +dungeons?" + +"Hush!" said Carlyon. "You do not understand." + +Later, she remembered with what tenderness he gathered her hands again +into his own, holding them reverently. At the time she realized nothing +but the monstrous pity of his wasted life. + +"It isn't true!" she sobbed. "You would not sacrifice your friends?" + +"Never!" said Carlyon sharply. + +He paused. Then--"You must go, Averil," he said. "There are two sentries +on the Buddhist road, and the password is 'Empire.' After that-straight +to Akbar. The moon is rising, and no one will speak to you or attempt to +stop you. You will not be afraid?" + +"I trust you," she said very earnestly. + +Ten minutes later, as the moon shot the first silver streak above the +frowning mountains, a white horse flashed out on the road beyond the +camp--a white horse bearing a white-robed rider. + +On the edge of the camp one sentry turned to another with wonder on his +face. + +"That messenger's journey will be soon over," he remarked. "An easy +target for the black fiends!" + +In the mountains a dusky-faced hillman turned glittering, awe-struck +eyes upon the flying white figure. + +"Behold!" he said. "The Heaven-sent rides to the moonrise even as he +foretold. The time draws near." + +And Carlyon, walking back in strange garb to join his own people, +muttered to himself as he went: "One woman, at least, is safe!" + + + + +IX + +A FIGHT IN THE NIGHT + + +An hour before daybreak the gathering wave broke upon the camp. It was +Toby Carey who ran hurriedly in upon the dancers in the club-room when +they were about to disperse and briefly announced that there was going +to be a fight. He added that Carlyon was at the mess-house, and desired +all the men to join him there. The women were to remain at the club, +which was already surrounded by a party of Sikhs and Goorkhas. Toby +begged them to believe they were in no danger. + +"Where is Averil?" cried Mrs. Raymond distractedly. + +"Carlyon has already provided for her safety," Toby assured her, as he +raced off again. + +Five minutes later Carlyon, issuing rapid orders in the veranda of the +mess-house, turned at the grip of a hand on his shoulder, and saw +Derrick, behind him, wild-eyed and desperate. + +"What have you done with Averil?" the boy said through white lips. + +"She is safe at Akbar," Carlyon briefly replied. Then, as Derrick +instantly wheeled, he caught him swiftly by the arm. + +"You wait, Dick!" he said. "I have work for you." + +"Let me go!" flashed Derrick fiercely. + +But Carlyon maintained his hold. He knew what was in the lad's mind. + +"It can't be done," he said. "It would be certain death if you attempted +it. We are cut off for the present." + +He interrupted himself to speak to an officer who was awaiting an order +then turned again to Derrick. + +"I tell you the truth, Dick," he said, a sudden note of kindliness in +his voice. "She is safe. I had the opportunity--for one only. I took +it--for her. You can't follow her. You have forfeited your right to +throw away your life. Don't forget it, boy, ever! You have got to live +for her and let the blackguards take the risks." + +He ended with a faint smile, and Derrick fell back abashed, an unwilling +admiration struggling with the sullenness of his submission. + +Later, at Carlyon's order, he joined the party that had been detailed to +watch over the club-house, the most precious and the safest position in +the whole station. He chafed sorely at the inaction, but he repressed +his feelings. + +Carlyon's words had touched him in the right place. Though fiercely +restless still, his manhood had been stirred, and gradually the +strength, the unflinching resolution that had dominated Averil, took the +place of his feverish excitement. Derrick, the impulsive and headstrong, +became the mainstay as well as the undismayed protector of the women +during that night scare of the Frontier. + +There was sharp fighting down in the camp. They heard the firing and the +shouts; but with the sunrise there came a lull. The women turned white +faces to one another and wondered if it could be over. + +Presently Derrick entered with the latest news. The tribesmen had been +temporarily beaten off, he said, but the hills were full of them. Their +own losses during the night amounted to two wounded sepoys. Fighting +during the day was not anticipated. + +Carlyon, snatching hasty refreshment in a hut near the scene of the +hottest fighting, turned grimly to Raymond, his second in command, as +gradual quiet descended upon the camp. + +"You will see strange things to-night," he said. + +Raymond, whose right wrist had been grazed by a bullet, was trying +clumsily to bandage it with his handkerchief. + +"How long is it going to last?" he said. + +"To-night will see the end of it," said Carlyon, quietly going to his +assistance. "The rising has been brewing for some time. The tribesmen +need a lesson, so does the Government. It is just a bubble--this. It +will explode to-night. To be honest for once"--Carlyon smiled a little +over his bandaging--"I did not expect this attack so soon. A Heaven-sent +messenger has been among the tribesmen. They revere him almost as much +as the great prophet himself. He has been listening to their +murmurings." + +Carlyon paused. Raymond was watching him intently, but the quiet face +bent over his wound told him nothing. + +"Had I known what was coming," Carlyon said, "so much as three days ago, +the women would not now be in the station. As things are, it would have +been impossible to weaken the garrison to supply them with an escort to +Akbar." + +Raymond stifled a deep curse in his throat. Had they but known indeed! + +Carlyon went on in his deliberate way: "I shall leave you in command +here to-night. I have other work to do. General Harford will be here at +dawn. The attacking force will be on the east of the camp. You will +crush them between you! You will stamp them down without mercy. Let them +see the Empire is ready for them! They will not trouble us again for +perhaps a few years." + +Again he paused. Raymond asked no question. Better than most he knew +Carlyon of the Frontier. + +"It will be a hard blow," Carlyon said. "The tribesmen are very +confident. Last night they watched a messenger ride eastwards on a white +horse. It was an omen foretold by the Heaven-sent when he left them to +carry the message through the hills to other tribes." + +Raymond gave a great start. "The girl!" he said. + +For a second Carlyon's eyes met his look. They were intensely blue, with +the blueness of a flame. + +"She is safe at Akbar," he said, returning without emotion to the +knotting of the bandage. "The road was open for the messenger. The horse +was swift. There is one woman less to take the risk." + +"I see," said Raymond quietly. He was frowning a little, but not at +Carlyon's strategy. + +"The rest," Carlyon continued, "must be fought for. The moon is full +to-night. The Great Fakir will come out of the hills in his zeal and +lead the tribes himself. Guard the east!" + +Raymond drew a sharp breath. But Carlyon's hand on his shoulder silenced +the astounded question on his lips. + +"We have got to protect the women," Carlyon said. "Relief will come at +dawn." + + + + +X + +SAVED A SECOND TIME + + +All through the day quiet reigned. An occasional sword-glint in the +mountains, an occasional gleam of white against the brown hillside; +these were the only evidences of an active enemy. + +The women were released from durance in the club-house, with strict +orders to return in the early evening. + +Derrick went restlessly through the camp, seeking Carlyon. He found him +superintending the throwing-up of earthworks. The most exposed part of +the camp was to be abandoned. Derrick joined him in silence. Somehow +this man's personality attracted him strongly. Though he had defied him, +quarrelled with him, insulted him, the spell of his presence was +irresistible. + +Carlyon paid small attention to him till he turned to leave that part of +the camp's defences. Then, with a careless hand through Derrick's arm, +he said: + +"You will have your fill of stiff fighting to-night, boy. But, remember, +you are not to throw yourself away." + +As evening fell, the attack was resumed, and it continued throughout the +night. Tribesmen charged up to the very breastworks themselves and fell +before the awful fire of the defenders' rifles. Death had no terrors for +them. They strove for the mastery with fanatical zeal. But they strove +in vain. A greater force than they possessed, the force of discipline +and organized resistance--kept them at bay. Behind the splendid courage +of the Indian soldiers were the resource and the resolution of a handful +of Englishmen. The spirit of the conquering race, unquenchable, +irresistible, weighed down the balance. + +In the middle of the night Captain Raymond was hit in the shoulder and +carried, fainting, to the closely guarded club-house, where his wife was +waiting. + +The command devolved upon Lieutenant Steele, who took up the task +undismayed. Down in the hastily dug trenches Toby Carey was fiercely +holding his men to their work. + +And Derrick Rose was with him, unrestrained for that night at least. + +"Relief at dawn!" Toby said to him once. + +And Derrick responded with a wild laugh. + +"Relief be damned! We can hold our own without it." + + * * * * * + +Relief came with the dawn, at a moment when the tribesmen were spurring +themselves to the greatest effort of all, sustained by the knowledge +that their Great Fakir was among them. + +General Harford, with guides, Sikhs, Goorkhas, came down like a +hurricane from the south-east, cut off a great body of tribesmen from +their fellows, and drove them headlong, with deadly force, upon the +defences they had striven so furiously to take. + +The defenders sallied out to meet them with fixed bayonets. The brief +siege, if siege it could be called, was over. + +In the early light Derrick found himself fighting, fighting furiously, +sword to sword. And the terrible joy of the conflict ran in his blood +like fire. + +"Ah!" he gasped. "It's good! It's good!" + +And then he found another fighting beside him--a mighty fighting man, +grim, terrible, silent. They thrust together; they withdrew together; +they charged together. + +Once an enemy seized Derrick's sword and he found himself vainly +struggling against the awful, wild-faced fanatic's sinewy grasp. He saw +the man's upraised arm, and knew with horrible certainty that he was +helpless, helpless. + +Then there shot out a swift, rescuing hand. A straight and deadly blow +was struck. And Derrick, flinging a laugh over his shoulder, beheld a +man dressed as a tribesman fall headlong over his enemy's body, struck +to the earth by another swordsman. + +Like lightning there flashed through his brain the memory of a man who +had saved his life more than a year before on this same tumultuous +Frontier--a man in tribesman's dress, with blue eyes of a strange, keen +friendliness. He had it now. This was the Secret Service man. Derrick +planted himself squarely over the prostrate body, and there stood while +the fight surged on about him to the deadly and inevitable end. + + + + +XI + +THE SECRET OUT + + +"All Carlyon's doing!" General Harford said a little later. "He has +pulled the strings throughout, from their very midst. Carlyon the +ubiquitous, Carlyon the silent, Carlyon the watchful! He has averted a +horrible catastrophe. The Indian Government must be made to understand +that he is a servant worth having. They say he personally led the +tribesmen to their death. They certainly walked very willingly into the +trap arranged for them. Now, where is Carlyon?" + +No one knew. In the plain outside the camp wounded men were being +collected. The General was relieved to hear that Carlyon was not among +them. He sat down to make his report, a highly eulogistic report, of +this man's splendid services. And then he went to late breakfast at the +club-house. + +In the evening Averil rode back to the station with an escort. The +terrible traces of the struggle were not wholly removed. They rode round +by a longer route to avoid the sight. + +Seddon was the first of her friends who saw her. He was standing inside +the mess-house. He went hurriedly forward and gave her brief details of +the fight. Then, while they were talking, Derrick himself came running +up. He greeted her with less of his boyish effusion than was customary. + +"How is the Secret Service man?" he asked abruptly of Seddon. "Is he +badly damaged?" + +The latter looked at him hard for a second. + +"You can come in and see him," he said, and led the way into the mess. + +Averil and Derrick followed him hand in hand. In a few low words the boy +told her of his old friend's reappearance. + +"He has saved my life twice over," he said. + +"He has saved more lives than yours," Seddon remarked abruptly, over his +shoulder. + +He led the way "to the little ante-room where, stretched on a sofa, lay +Derrick's Secret Service man. He was dressed in white, his face half +covered with a fold of his head-dress. But the eyes were open--blue, +alert, beneath drooping lids. He was speaking, softly, quickly, as a man +asleep. + +"The women must be protected," he said. "Let the blackguards take the +risks!" + +Averil started forward with a cry, and in a moment was kneeling by his +side. The strange eyes were turned upon her instantly. They were +watchful still and exceeding tender--the eyes of the hero she loved. +They faintly smiled at her. To his death he would keep up the farce. To +his death he would never show her the secret he had borne so long. + +"Ah! The message!" he said, with an effort. "You gave it?" + +"There was no need of a message," Averil cried. "You invented it to get +me away, to make me escape from danger. You knew that otherwise I would +not have gone. It was your only reason for sending me." + +He did not answer her. The smile died slowly out. His eyes passed to +Derrick. He looked at him very earnestly, and there was unutterable +pleading in the look. + +The boy stooped forward. Shocked by the sudden discovery, he yet +answered as it were involuntarily to the man's unspoken wish. He knelt +down beside the girl, his arm about her shoulders. His voice came with a +great sob. + +"The Secret Service man and Carlyon of the Frontier in one!" he said. "A +man who does not forsake his friends. I might have known." + +There was a pause, a great silence. Then Carlyon of the Frontier spoke +softly, thoughtfully, with grave satisfaction it seemed. He looked at +neither of them, but beyond them both. His eyes were steady and +fearless. + +"A blackguard--a spy--yet faithful to his friends--even so," he said; +and died. + +The boy and girl were left to each other. He had meant it to be so--had +worked for it, suffered for it. In the end Carlyon of the Frontier had +done that which he had set himself to do, at a cost which none other +would ever know--not even the girl who had loved him. + + + + +The Penalty + +I + + +"Now then, you fellows, step out there! Step out like the men you are! +Left--right! Left--right! That's the way! Holy Jupiter! Call those chaps +savages! They're gentlemen, every jack one of 'em. That's it, my +hearties! Salute the old flag! By Jove, Monty, a British squad couldn't +have done it better!" + +The speaker pushed back his helmet to wipe his forehead. He was very +much in earnest. The African sun blazing down on his bronzed face +revealed that. The blue eyes glittered out of the lean, tanned +countenance. They were full of resolution, indomitable resolution, and +good British pluck. + +As the little company of black men swung by, with the rhythmic pad of +their bare feet, he suddenly snatched out his sword and waved it high in +the smiting sunlight. + +"Halt!" he cried. + +They stood as one man, all gleaming eyes and gleaming teeth. They were +all a good head taller than the Englishman who commanded them, but they +looked upon him with reverence, as a being half divine. + +"Now, cheer, you beggars, cheer!" he cried. "Three cheers for the King! +Hip, hip--" + +"Hooray!" came in hoarse chorus from the assembled troop. It sounded +like a war cry. + +"Hip, hip--" yelled the Englishman again. + +And again "Hooray!" came the answering yell. + +"Hip, hip--" for the third time from the man with the sword. + +And for the third time, "Hooray!" from the deep-chested troopers halted +in the blazing sunshine. + +The British officer turned about with an odd smile quivering at the +corners of his mouth. There was an almost maternal tenderness about it. + +He sheathed his sword. + +"You beauties!" he murmured softly. "You beauties!" Then aloud, "Very +good, sergeant! Dismiss them! Come along, Monty! Let's go and have a +drink." + +He linked his arm in that of the silent onlooker, and drew him into the +little hut of rough-hewn timber which was dignified by the name, printed +in white letters over the door, of "Officers' Quarters." + +"What do you think of them?" he demanded, as they entered. "Aren't they +soldiers? Aren't they men?" + +"I think, Duncannon," the other answered slowly, "that you have worked +wonders." + +"Ah, you'll tell the Chief so? Won't he be astounded? He swore I should +never do it; declared they'd knife me if I tried to hammer any +discipline into them. Much he knows about it! Good old Chief!" + +He laughed boyishly, and again wiped his hot face. + +"On my soul, Monty, it's been no picnic," he declared. "But I'd have +sacrificed five years' pay, and my step as well, gladly--gladly--sooner +than have missed it. Here you are, old boy! Drink! Drink to the latest +auxiliary force in the British Empire! Damn' thirsty climate, this." + +He tossed his helmet aside, and sat down on the edge of the table--a +lithe, spare figure, brimming with active strength. + +"I've literally coaxed those chaps into shape," he declared. "Oh, yes, +I've bullied 'em too--cursed 'em right and left; but they never turned a +hair--knew it was all for their good, and took it lying down. I've +taught 'em to wash too, you know. That was the hardest job of all. I +knocked one great brute all round the parade-ground one day, just to +show I was in earnest. He went off afterwards, and blubbed like a baby. +But in the evening I found him squatting outside, quite naked, and as +clean as a whistle. To quote the newspapers, I was profoundly touched. +But I didn't show it, you bet. I whacked him on the shoulder, and told +him to be a man." + +He broke off to laugh at the reminiscence; and Montague Herne gravely +set down his glass, and turned his chair with its back to the sunlight. + +"Do you know you've been here eighteen months?" he said. + +Duncannon nodded. + +"I feel as if I'd been born here. Why?" + +"Most fellows," proceeded Herne, ignoring the question, "would have been +clamouring for leave long ago. Why, you have scarcely heard your own +language all this time." + +"I have though," said Duncannon quickly. "That's another thing I've +taught 'em. They picked it up wonderfully quickly. There isn't one of +'em who doesn't know a few sentences now." + +"You seem to have found your vocation in teaching these heathen to sit +up and beg," observed Herne, with a dry smile. + +Duncannon turned dusky red under his tan. + +"Perhaps I have," he said, with a certain, doggedness. + +Herne, with his back to the light, was watching him. + +"Well," he said finally, "we've served our turn. The battalion is going +Home!" + +Duncannon gave a great start. + +"Already?" + +"After two years' service," the other reminded him grimly. + +Duncannon fell silent, considering, the matter with bent brows. + +"Who succeeds us?" he asked at length. + +Herne shrugged his shoulders. + +"You don't know?" There was sudden, sharp anxiety in Duncannon's voice. +He got off the table with a jerk. "You must know," he said. + +Herne sat motionless, but he no longer looked the other in the face. + +"You've taught 'em to fight," he said slowly. "They are men enough to +look after themselves now." + +"What?" Duncannon flung the word with violence. He took a single stride +forward, standing over Herne in an attitude that was almost menacing. +His hands were clenched. "What?" he said again. + +Herne leaned back, and felt for his cigarette-case. + +"Take it easy, old chap!" he said. "It was bound to come, you know. It +was never meant to be more than a temporary occupation among these +friendlies. They have been useful to us, I admit. But we can't fight +their battles for them for ever. It's time for them to stand on their +own legs. Have a smoke!" + +Duncannon ignored the invitation. He turned pale to the lips. For a +space of seconds he said nothing whatever. Then at length, slowly, in a +voice that was curiously even, "Yes, I've taught 'em to fight," he said. +"And now I'm to leave 'em to be massacred, am I?" + +Herne shrugged his shoulders again, not because he was actually +indifferent, but because, under the circumstances, it was the easiest +answer to make. + +Duncannon went on in the same dead-level tone: + +"Yes, they've been useful to us, these friendlies. They've made common +cause with us against those infernal Wandis. They might have stayed +neutral, or they might have whipped us off the ground. But they didn't. +They brought us supplies, and they brought us mules, and they helped us +along generally, and hauled us out of tight corners. They've given us +all we asked for, and more to it. And now they are going to pay the +penalty, to reap our gratitude. They're going to be left to themselves +to fight our enemies--the fellows we couldn't beat--single-handed, +without experience, without a leader, and only half trained. They are +going to be left as a human sacrifice to pay our debts." + +He paused, standing erect and tense, staring out into the blinding +sunlight. Then suddenly, like the swift kindling of a flame, his +attitude changed. He flung up his hands with a wild gesture. + +"No, I'm damned!" he cried violently. "I'm damned if they shall! They +are my men--the men I made. I've taught 'em every blessed thing they +know. I've taught 'em to reverence the old flag, and I'm damned if I'll +see them betrayed! You can go back to the Chief, and tell him so! Tell +him they're British subjects, staunch to the backbone! Why, they can +even sing the first verse of the National Anthem! You'll hear them at +it to-night before they turn in. They always do. It's a sort of evening +hymn to them. Oh, Monty, Monty, what cursed trick will our fellows think +of next, I wonder? Are we men, or are we reptiles, we English? And we +boast--we boast of our national honour!" + +He broke off, breathing short and hard, as a man desperately near to +collapse, and leaned his head on his arm against the rough wall as if in +shame. + +Herne glanced at him once or twice before replying. + +"You see," he said at length, speaking somewhat laboriously, "what we've +got to do is to obey orders. We were sent out here not to think but to +do. We're on Government service. They are responsible for the thinking +part. We have to carry it out, that's all. They have decided to evacuate +this district, and withdraw to the coast. So"--again he shrugged his +shoulders--"there's no more to be said. We must go." + +He paused, and glanced again at the slight, khaki-clad figure that +leaned against the wall. + +After a moment, meeting with no response, he resumed. + +"There's no sense in taking it hard, since there is no help for it. You +always knew that it was an absolutely temporary business. Of course, if +we could have smashed the Wandis, these chaps would have had a better +look-out. But--well, we haven't smashed them." + +"We hadn't enough men!" came fiercely from Duncannon. + +"True! We couldn't afford to do things on a large scale. Moreover, it's +a beastly country, as even you must admit. And it isn't worth a big +struggle. Besides, we can't occupy half the world to prevent the other +half playing the deuce with it. Come, Bobby, don't be a fool, for +Heaven's sake! You've been treated as a god too long, and it's turned +your head. Don't you want to get Home? What about your people? What +about----" + +Duncannon turned sharply. His face was drawn and grey. + +"I'm not thinking of them," he said, in a choked voice. "You don't know +what this means to me. You couldn't know, and I can't explain. But my +mind is made up on one point. Whoever goes--I stay!" + +He spoke deliberately, though his breathing was still quick and uneven. +His eyes were sternly steadfast. + +Herne stared at him in amazement. + +"My good fellow," he said, "you are talking like a lunatic! I think you +must have got a touch of sun." + +A faint smile flickered over Duncannon's set face. + +"No, it isn't that," he said. "It's a touch of something else--something +you wouldn't understand." + +"But--heavens above!--you have no choice!" Herne exclaimed, rising +abruptly. "You can't say you'll do this or that. So long as you wear a +sword, you have to obey orders." + +"That's soon remedied," said Duncannon, between his teeth. + +With a sudden, passionate movement he jerked the weapon from its sheath, +held it an instant gleaming between his hands, then stooped and bent it +double across his knee. + +It snapped with a sharp click, and instantly he straightened himself, +the shining fragments in his hands, and looked Montague Herne in the +eyes. + +"When you go back to the Chief," he said, speaking very steadily, "you +can take him this, and tell him that the British Government can play +what damned dirty trick they please upon their allies. But I will take +no part in it. I shall stick to my friends." + +And with that he flung the jingling pieces of steel upon the table, took +up his helmet, and passed out into the fierce glare of the little +parade-ground. + + +II + +"Oh, is it our turn at last? I am glad!" + +Betty Derwent raised eyes of absolute honesty to the man who had just +come to her side, and laid her hand with obvious alacrity upon his arm. + +"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself," he said. + +"I'm not!" she declared, with vehemence. "It's perfectly horrid. I hope +you're not wanting to dance, Major Herne? For I want to sit out, +and--and get cool, if possible." + +"I want what you want," said Herne. "Shall we go outside?" + +"Yes--no! I really don't know. I've only just come in. I want to get +away--right away. Can't you think of a quiet corner?" + +"Certainly," said Herne, "if it's all one to you where you go." + +"I should like to run away," the girl said impetuously, "right away from +everybody--except you." + +"That's very good of you," said Herne, faintly smiling. + +The hand that rested on his arm closed with an agitated pressure. + +"Oh, no, it isn't!" she assured him. "It's quite selfish. I--I am like +that, you know. Where are we going?" + +"Upstairs," said Herne. + +"Upstairs!" She glanced at him in surprise, but he offered no +explanation. They were already ascending. + +But when they had mounted one flight of stairs, and were beginning to +mount a second, the girl's eyes flashed understanding. + +"Major Herne, you're a real friend in need!" + +"Think so?" said Herne. "Perhaps--at heart--I am as selfish as you +are." + +"Oh, I don't mind that," she rejoined impulsively. "You are all selfish, +every one of you, but--thank goodness!--you don't all want the same +thing." + +Montague Herne raised his brows a little. + +"Quite sure of that?" + +"Quite sure," said Betty vigorously. "I always know." She added with +apparent inconsequence, "That's how it is we always get on so well. Are +you going to take me right out on to the ramparts? Are you sure there +will be no one else there?" + +"There will be no one where we are going," he said. + +She sighed a sigh of relief. + +"How good! We shall get some air up there, too. And I want air--plenty +of it. I feel suffocated." + +"Mind how you go!" said Herne. "These stairs are uneven." + +They had come to a spiral staircase of stone. Betty mounted it +light-footed, Herne following close behind. + +In the end they came to an oak door, against which the girl set her +hand. + +"Major Herne! It's locked!" + +"Allow me!" said Herne. + +He had produced a large key, at which Betty looked with keen +satisfaction. + +"You really are a wonderful person. You overcome all difficulties." + +"Not quite that, I am afraid." Herne was smiling. "But this is a +comparatively simple matter. The key happens to be in my charge. With +your permission, we will lock the door behind us." + +"Do!" she said eagerly. "I have never been at this end of the ramparts. +I believe I shall spend the rest of the evening here, where no one can +follow us." + +"Haven't you any more partners?" asked Herne. + +She showed him a full card with a little grimace. + +"I have had such an awful experience. I am going to cut the rest." + +He smiled a little. + +"Rather hard on the rest. However----" + +"Oh, don't be silly!" she said impatiently. "It isn't like you." + +"No," said Herne. + +He spoke quietly, almost as if he were thinking of something else. They +had passed through the stone doorway, and had emerged upon a flagged +passage that led between stone walls to the ramparts. Betty passed along +this quickly, mounted the last flight of steps that led to the +battlements, and stood suddenly still. + +A marvellous scene lay spread below them in the moonlight--silent land +and whispering sea. The music of the band in the distant ballroom rose +fitfully--such music as is heard in dreams. Betty stood quite motionless +with the moonlight shining on her face. She looked like a nymph caught +up from the shimmering water. + +Impulsively at length she turned to the man beside her. + +"Shall I tell you what has been happening to me to-night?" + +"If you really wish me to know," said Herne. + +She jerked her shoulder with a hint of impatience. + +"I feel as if I must tell someone, and you are as safe, as any one I +know. I have danced with six men so far, and out of those six three have +asked me to marry them. It's been almost like a conspiracy, as if they +were doing it for a wager. Only, two of them were so horribly in earnest +that it couldn't have been that. Major Herne, why can't people be +reasonable?" + +"Heaven knows!" said Herne. + +She gave him a quick smile. + +"If I get another proposal to-night I shall have hysterics. But I know I +am safe with you." + +Herne was silent. + +Betty gave a little shiver. + +"You think me very horrid to have told you?" + +"No," he answered deliberately, "I don't. I think that you were +extraordinarily wise." + +She laughed with a touch of wistfulness. + +"I have a feeling that if I quite understood what you meant, I shouldn't +regard that as a compliment." + +"Very likely not." Herne's dark face brooded over the distant water. He +did not so much as glance at the girl beside him, though her eyes were +studying him quite frankly. + +"Why are you so painfully discreet?" she said suddenly. "Don't you know +that I want you to give me advice?" + +"Which you won't take," said Herne. + +"I don't know. I might. I quite well might. Anyhow, I should be +grateful." + +He rested one foot on the battlement, still not looking at her. + +"If you took my advice," he said, "you would marry." + +"Marry!" she said with a quick flush. "Why? Why should I?" + +"You know why," said Herne. + +"Really I don't. I am quite happy as I am." + +"Quite?" he said. + +She began to tap her fingers against the stonework. There was something +of nervousness in the action. + +"I couldn't possibly marry any one of the men who proposed to me +to-night," she said. + +"There are other men," said Herne. + +"Yes, I know, but--" She threw out her arms suddenly with a gesture that +had in it something passionate. "Oh, if only I were a man myself!" she +said. "How I wish I were!" + +"Why?" said Herne. + +She answered him instantly, her voice not wholly steady. + +"I want to travel. I want to explore. I want to go to the very heart of +the world, and--and learn its secrets." + +Herne turned his head very deliberately and looked at her. + +"And then?" he said. + +Half defiantly her eyes met his. + +"I would find Bobby Duncannon," she said, "and bring him back." + +Herne stood up slowly. + +"I thought that was it," he said. + +"And why shouldn't it be?" said Betty. "I have known him for a long time +now. Wouldn't you do as much for a pal?" + +Herne was silent for a moment. Then: + +"You would be wiser to forget him," he said. "He will never come back." + +"I shall never forget him," said Betty almost fiercely. + +He looked at her gravely. + +"You mean to waste the rest of your life waiting for him?" he asked. + +Her hands gripped each other suddenly. + +"You call it waste?" she said. + +"It is waste," he made answer, "sheer, damnable waste. The boy was mad +enough to sacrifice his own career--everything that he had--but it is +downright infernal that you should be sacrificed too. Why should you pay +the penalty for his madness? He was probably killed long ago, and even +if not--even if he lived and came back--you would probably ask yourself +if you had ever met him before." + +"Oh, no!" Betty said. "No!" + +She turned and looked out to the water that gleamed so peacefully in the +moonlight. + +"Do you know," she said, her voice very low, scarcely more than a +whisper, "he asked me to marry him--five years ago--just before he went. +It was my first proposal. I was very young, not eighteen. And--and it +frightened me. I really don't know why. And so I refused. He said he +would ask me again when I was older, when I had come out. I remember +being rather relieved when he went away. It wasn't till afterwards, when +I came to see the world and people, that I realized that he was more to +me than any one else. He--he was wonderfully fascinating, don't you +think? So strong, so eager, so full of life! I have never seen any one +quite like him." She leaned her hands suddenly against a projecting +stone buttress and bowed her head upon them. "And I--refused him!" she +said. + +The low voice went out in a faint sob, and the man's hands clenched. The +next instant he had crossed the space that divided him from the slender +figure in its white draperies that drooped against the wall. + +He bent down to her. + +"Betty, Betty," he said, "you're crying for the moon, child. Don't!" + +She turned, and with a slight, confiding movement slid out a trembling +hand. + +"I have never told anyone but you," she said. + +He clasped the quivering fingers very closely. + +"I would sell my soul to see you happy," he said. "But, my dear Betty, +happiness doesn't lie in that direction. You are sacrificing substance +to shadow. Won't you see it before it's too late, before the lean years +come?" He paused a moment, seeming to restrain himself. Then, "I've +never told you before," he said, his voice very low, deeply tender. "I +hardly dare to tell you now, lest you should think I'm trading on your +friendship, but I, too, am one of those unlucky beggars that want to +marry you. You needn't trouble to refuse me, dear. I'll take it all for +granted. Only, when the lean years do come to you, as they will, as they +must, will you remember that I'm still wanting you, and give me the +chance of making you happy?" + +"Oh, don't!" sobbed Betty. "Don't! You hurt me so!" + +"Hurt you, Betty! I!" + +She turned impulsively and leaned her head against him. + +"Major Herne, you--you are awfully good to me, do you know? I shall +never forget it. And if--if I were not quite sure in my heart that Bobby +is still alive and wanting me, I would come to you, if you really cared +to have me. But--but--" + +"Do you mean that, Betty?" he said. His arm was round her, but he did +not seek to draw her nearer, did not so much as try to see her face. + +But she showed it to him instantly, lifting clear eyes, in which the +tears still shone, to his. + +"Oh, yes, I mean it. But, Major Herne, but----" + +He met her look, faintly smiling. + +"Yes," he said. "It's a pretty big 'but,' I know, but I'm going to +tackle it. I'm going to find out if the boy is alive or dead. If he +lives, you shall see him again; if he is dead--and this is the more +probable, for it is no country for white men--I shall claim you for +myself, Betty. You won't refuse me then?" + +"Only find out for certain," she said. + +"I will do that," he promised. + +"But how? How? You won't go there yourself?" + +"Why not?" he said. + +Something like panic showed in the girl's eyes. She laid her hands on +his shoulders. + +"Monty, I don't want you to go." + +"You would rather I stayed?" he said. He was looking closely into her +eyes. + +She endured the look for a little, then suddenly the tears welled up +again. + +"I can't bear you to go," she whispered. "I mean--I mean--I couldn't +bear it if--if----" + +He took her hands gently, and held them. + +"I shall come back to you, Betty," he said. + +"Oh, you will!" she said very earnestly. "You will!" + +"I shall," said Montague Herne; and he said it as a man whose resolution +no power on earth might turn. + + + + +III + +No country for white men indeed! Herne grimly puffed a cloud of smoke +into a whirl of flies, and rose from the packing-case off which he had +dined. + +Near by were the multitudinous sounds of the camp, the voices of Arabs, +the grunting of camels, the occasional squeal of a mule. Beyond lay the +wilderness, mysterious, silent, immense, the home of the unknown. + +He had reached the outermost edge of civilization, and he was waiting +for the return of an Arab spy, a man he trusted, who had pushed on into +the interior. The country beyond him was a dense tract of bush almost +impenetrable; so far as he knew, waterless. + +In the days of the British expedition this had been an almost +insuperable obstacle, but Herne was in no mood to turn back. Behind him +lay desert, wide and barren under the fierce African sun. He had +traversed it with a dogged patience, regardless of hardship, and, +whatever lay ahead of him, he meant to go on. Hidden deep below the +man's calm aspect there throbbed a fierce impatience. It tortured him by +night, depriving him of rest. + +Very curiously, the conviction had begun to take root in his soul also +that Bobby Duncannon still lived. In England he had scouted the notion, +but here in the heart of the desert everything seemed possible. He felt +as if a voice were calling to him out of the mystery towards which he +had set his face, a voice that was never silent, continually urging him +on. + +Wandering that night on the edge of the bush, with the camp-fires behind +him, he told himself that until he knew the truth he would never turn +back. + +He lay down at last, though his restlessness was strong upon him, +compelling his body at least to be passive, while hour after hour +crawled by and the wondrous procession of stars wheeled overhead. + +In the early morning there came a stir in the camp, and he rose, to find +that his messenger had returned. The man was waiting for him outside his +tent. The orange and gold of sunrise was turning the desert into a +wonderland of marvellous colour, but Herne's eyes took no note thereof. +He saw only his Arab guide bending before him in humble salutation, +while in his heart he heard a girl's voice, low and piteous, "Bobby is +still alive and wanting me." + +"Well, Hassan?" he questioned. "Any news?" + +The man's eyes gleamed with a certain triumph. + +"There is news, _effendi_. The man the _effendi_ seeks is no longer +chief of the Zambas. They have been swallowed up by the Wandis." + +Herne groaned. It was only what he had expected, but the memory of the +boy's face with its eager eyes was upon him. The pity of it! The vast, +irretrievable waste! + +"Then he is dead?" he said. + +The Arab spread out his hands. + +"Allah knows. But the Wandis do not always slay their prisoners, +_effendi_. The old and the useless ones they burn, but the strong ones +they save alive. It may be that he lives." + +"As a slave!" Herne said. + +"It is possible, _effendi_." The Arab considered a moment. Then, "The +road to the country of the Wandis is no journey for _effendis_," he +said. "The path is hard to find, and there is no water. Also, the bush +is thick, and there are many savages. But beyond all are the mountains +where the Wandis dwell. It is possible that the chief of the Zambas has +been carried to their City of Stones. It is a wonderful place, +_effendi_. But the way thither, especially now, even for an Arab----" + +"I am going myself," Herne said. + +"The _effendi_ will die!" + +Herne shrugged his shoulders. + +"Be it so! I am going!" + +"But not alone, _effendi_." A speculative gleam shone in the Arab's wary +eyes. He was the only available guide, and he knew it. The Englishman +was mad, of course, but he was willing to humour him--for a +consideration. + +Herne saw the gleam, and his grim face relaxed. + +"Name your price, Hassan!" he said. "If it doesn't suit me--I go alone." + +Hassan smiled widely. Certainly the Englishman was mad, but he had a +sporting fancy for mad Englishmen, a fancy that kept his pouch well +filled. He had not the smallest intention of letting this one out of his +sight. + +"We will go together, _effendi_," he said. "The price shall not be named +between us until we return in peace. But the _effendi_ will need a +disguise. The Wandis have no love for the English." + +"Then I will go as your brother," said Herne. + +The Arab bowed low. + +"As traders in spice," he said, "we might, by the goodness of Allah, +pass through to the Great Desert. But we could not go with a large +caravan, _effendi_, and we should take our lives in our hands." + +"Even so," said the Englishman imperturbably. "Let us waste no time!" + +It had been his attitude throughout, and it had had its effect upon the +men who had travelled with him. They had come to look upon him with +reverence, this mad Englishman, who was thus calmly preparing to risk +his life for a man whose bones had probably whitened in the desert years +before. By sheer, indomitable strength of purpose Herne was +accomplishing inch by inch the task that he had set himself. + +A few days more found him traversing the wide, scrub-grown plateau that +stretched to the mountains where the Wandis had their dwelling-place. +The journey was a bitter one, the heat intense, the difficulties of the +way sometimes wellnigh insurmountable. They carried water with them, +but the need for economy was great, and Herne was continually possessed +by a consuming thirst that he never dared to satisfy. + +The party consisted of himself, Hassan, an Arab lad, and five natives. +The rest of his following he had left on the edge of civilization, +encamped in the last oasis between the desert and the scrub, with orders +to await his return. If, as the Arab had suggested, he succeeded in +pushing through to the farther desert, he would return by a more +southerly route, giving Wanda as wide a berth as possible. + +Thus ran his plans as, day after day, he pressed farther into the heart +of the unknown country that the British had abandoned in despair over +three years before. They found it deserted, in some parts almost +impenetrable, so dense was the growth of bush in all directions. And yet +there were times when it seemed to Herne that the sense of emptiness was +but a superficial impression, as if unseen eyes watched them on that +journey of endless monotony, as if the very camels knew of a lurking +espionage, and sneered at their riders' ignorance. + +This feeling came to him generally at night, when he had partially +assuaged the torment of thirst that gave him no peace by day, and his +mind was more at leisure for speculation. At such times, lying apart +from his companions, wrapt in the immense silence of the African night, +the conviction would rise up within him that every inch of their +progress through that land of mystery was marked by a close observation, +that even as he lay he was under _surveillance_, that the dense +obscurity of the bush all about him was peopled by stealthy watchers +whose vigilance was never relaxed. + +He mentioned his suspicion once to Hassan; but the Arab only smiled. + +"The desert never sleeps, _effendi_. The very grass of the _savannah_ +has ears." + +It was not a very satisfactory explanation, but Herne accepted it. He +put down his uneasiness to the restlessness of nerves that were ever on +the alert, and determined to ignore it. But it pursued him, none the +less; and coupled with it was the voice that called to him perpetually, +like the crying of a lost soul. + +They were drawing nearer to the mountains when one day the Arab lad, +Ahmed, disappeared. It happened during the midday halt, when the rest of +the party were drowsing. No one knew when he went or how, but he +vanished as if a hand had plucked him off the face of the earth. It +seemed unlikely that he would have wandered into the bush, but this was +the only conclusion that they could come to; and they spent the rest of +the day in fruitless searching. + +Herne slept not at all that night. The place seemed to be alive with +ghostly whisperings, and he could not bring himself to rest. He spent +the long hours revolver in hand, waiting with a dogged patience for the +dawn. + +But when it came at last, in a sudden tropical stream of light +illuminating all things, he knew that, his vigilance notwithstanding, he +had been tricked. The morning dawned upon a deserted camp. The natives +had fled in the night, and only Hassan and the camels remained. + +Hassan was largely contemptuous. + +"Let them go!" he said. "We are but a day's journey from Wanda. We will +go forward alone, _effendi_. The chief of the Wandis will not slay two +peaceful merchants who desire only to travel through to the Great +Desert." + +And so, with the camels strung together, they went forward. There was no +attempt at concealment in their progress. The path they travelled was +clearly defined, and they pursued it unmolested. But ever the conviction +followed Herne that countless eyes were upon them, that through the +depths of the bush naked bodies slipped like reptiles, hemming them in +on every side. + +They had travelled a couple of hours, and the sun was climbing +unpleasantly high, when, rounding a curve of the path, they came +suddenly upon a huddled figure. It looked at first sight no more than a +bundle of clothes kicked to one side, too limp and tattered to contain a +human form. But neither Herne nor his companion was deceived. Both knew +in a flash what that inanimate object was. + +Hassan was beside it in a moment, and Herne only waited to draw his +revolver before he followed. + +It was the boy, Ahmed, still breathing indeed, but so far gone that +every gasp seemed as if it must be his last. Hassan drew back the +covering from his face, and, in spite of himself, Herne shuddered; for +it was mutilated beyond recognition. The features were slashed to +ribbons. + +"Water, _effendi_!" Hassan's voice recalled him; and he turned aside to +procure it. + +It was little more than a tepid drain, but it acted like magic upon the +dying boy. There came a gasping whisper, and Hassan stooped to hear. + +When, a few minutes later, he stood up, Herne knew that the end had +come; knew, too, by the look in the Arab's eyes that they stood +themselves on the brink of that great gulf into which the boy's life had +but that instant slipped. + +"The Wandis have returned from a great slaughter," Hassan said. "Their +Prophet is with them, and they bring many captives. The lad wandered +into the bush, and was caught by a band of spies. They tortured him, and +let him go, _effendi_. Thus will they torture us if we go forward any +longer." He caught at the bridle of the nearest camel. "The lust of +blood is upon them," he said. "We will go back." + +"Not so," Herne said. "If we go back we die, for the water is almost +gone. We must press forward now. There will be water in the mountains." + +Hassan glanced at him sideways. He looked as if he were minded to defy +the mad Englishman, but Herne's revolver was yet in his hand, and he +thought better of it. Moreover, he knew, as did Herne, that their water +supply was not sufficient to take them back. So, without further +discussion, they pressed on until the heat compelled them to halt. + +It had seemed to Herne the previous night that he could never close his +eyes again, but now as he descended from his camel, an intense +drowsiness possessed him. For a while he strove against it, and managed +to keep it at bay; but the sight of Hassan, curled up and calmly +slumbering, soon served to bring home to him the futility of +watchfulness. The Arab was obviously resigned to his particular fate, +whatever that might be, and, since sleep had become a necessity to him, +it seemed useless to combat it. What, after all, could vigilance do for +him in that world of hostility? The odds were so strongly against him +that it had become almost a fight against the inevitable. And he was too +tired to keep it up. With a sigh, he suffered his limbs to relax and lay +as one dead. + + + + + +IV + + +HE awoke hours after with an inarticulate feeling that someone wanted +him, and started up to the sound of a rifle shot that pierced the +stillness like a crack of thunder. In a second he would have been upon +his feet, but, even as he sprang, something else that was very close at +hand sprang also, and hurled him backwards. He found himself fighting +desperately in the grip of an immense savage, fighting at a hopeless +disadvantage, with the man's knees crushing the breath out of his body, +and the man's hands locked upon his throat. + +He struggled fiercely for bare life, but he was powerless to loosen that +awful, merciless pressure. The barbaric face that glared into his own +wore a devilish grin, inexpressibly malignant. It danced before his +starting eyes like some hideous spectre seen in delirium, intermittent, +terrible, with blinding flashes of light breaking between. He felt as if +his head were bursting. The agony of suffocation possessed him to the +exclusion of all else. There came a sudden glaze in his brain that was +like the shattering of every faculty, and then, in a blood-red mist, his +understanding passed. + +It seemed to him when the light reeled back again that he had been +unconscious for a very long time. He awoke to excruciating pain, of +which he seemed to have been vaguely aware throughout, and found himself +bound hand and foot and slung across the back of a camel. He dangled +helplessly face downwards, racked by cramp and a fiery torment of thirst +more intolerable than anything he had ever known. + +Darkness had fallen, but he caught the gleam of torches, and he knew +that he was surrounded by a considerable body of men. The ground they +travelled was stony and ascended somewhat steeply. Herne swung about +like a bale of goods, torn by his bonds, flung this way and that, and +utterly unable to protect himself in any way, or to ease his position. + +He set his teeth to endure the torture, but it was so intense that he +presently fainted again, and only recovered consciousness when the +agonizing progress ceased. He opened his eyes, to find the camel that +had borne him kneeling, and he himself being bundled by two brawny +savages on to the ground. He fell like a log, and so was left. But, +bound though he was, the relief of lying motionless was such that he +presently recovered so far as to be able to look about him. + +He discovered that he was lying in what appeared to be a huge +amphitheatre of sand, surrounded by high cliffs, ragged and barren, and +strewn with boulders. Two great fires burned at several yards' distance, +and about these, a number of savages were congregated. From somewhere +behind came the trickle of water, and the sound goaded him to something +that was very nearly approaching madness. He dragged himself up on to +his knees. His thirst was suddenly unendurable. + +But the next instant he was flat on his face in the sand, struck down by +a blow on the back of the neck that momentarily stunned him. For a while +he lay prone, gritting the sand in his teeth; then again with the +strength of frenzy he struggled upwards. + +He had a glimpse of his guard standing over him, and recognized the +savage who had nearly strangled him, before a second crashing blow +brought him down. He lay still then, overwhelmed in darkness for a long, +long time. + +He scarcely knew when he was lifted at last and borne forward into the +great circle of light cast by one of the fires. He felt the glare upon +his eyeballs, but it conveyed nothing to him. Over by the farther fire +some festivity seemed to be in progress. He had a vague vision of +leaping, naked bodies, and the flash of knives. There was a good deal of +shouting also, and now and then a nightmare shriek. And then came the +torment of the fire, great heat enveloping him, thirst that was anguish. + +He turned upon his captors, but his mouth was too dry for speech. He +could only glare dumbly into their evil faces, and they glared back at +him in fiendish triumph. Nearer to the red glow they came, nearer yet. +He could hear the crackle of the licking flames. They danced giddily +before his eyes. + +Suddenly the arms that bore him swung back. He knew instinctively that +they were preparing to hurl him into the heart of the fire, and the +instinct of self-preservation rushed upon him, stabbing him to vivid +consciousness. With a gigantic effort he writhed himself free from their +hold. + +He fell headlong, but the strength of madness had entered into him. He +fought like a man possessed, straining at his bonds till they cracked +and burst, forcing from his parched throat sounds which in saner moments +he would not have recognized as human, struggling, tearing, raging, in +furious self-defence. + +He was hopelessly outmatched. The odds were such as no man in his senses +could have hoped to combat with anything approaching success. Almost +before his bonds began to loosen, his enemies were upon him again. They +hoisted him up, fighting like a maniac. They tightened his bonds +unconcernedly, and prepared for a second attempt. + +But, before it could be made, a fierce yell rang suddenly from the +cliffs above them, echoing weirdly through the savage pandemonium, +arresting, authoritative, piercingly insistent. + +What it portended Herne had not the vaguest notion, but its effect upon +the two Wandis who held him was instant and astounding. They dropped him +like a stone, and fled as if pursued by furies. + +As for Herne, he wriggled and writhed from the vicinity of the fire, +still working at his bonds, his one idea to reach the water that he knew +was running within a stone's throw of him. It was an agonizing progress, +but he felt no pain but that awful, consuming thirst, knew no fear but a +ghastly dread that he might fail to reach his goal. For a single +mouthful of water at that moment he would have bartered his very soul. + +His breathing came in great gasps. The sweat was running down his face. +His heart beat thickly, spasmodically. His senses were tottering. But he +clung tenaciously to the one idea. He could not die with his thirst +unquenched. If he crawled every inch of the way upon his stomach, he +would somehow reach the haven of his desire. + +There came the padding of feet upon the sand close to him, and he cursed +aloud and bitterly. It was death this time, of course. He shut his eyes +and lay motionless, waiting for it. He only hoped that it might be +swift; that the hellish torture he was suffering might be ended at a +blow. + +But no blow fell. Hands touched him, severed his bonds, dragged him +roughly up. Then, as he staggered, powerless for the moment to stand, an +arm, hard and fleshless as the arm of a skeleton, caught him and urged +him forward. Irresistibly impelled, he left the glare of the fire, and +stumbled into deep shadow. + +Ten seconds later he was on his knees by a natural basin of rock in +which clear water brimmed, plunged up to the elbows, and drinking as +only a man who has known the thirst of the desert can drink. + + + +V + + +He turned at last from that exquisite draught with the water running +down his face. His Arab dress hung about him in tatters. He was bruised +and bleeding in a dozen places. But the man's heart of him was alive +again and beating strongly. He was ready to sell his life as dearly as +he might. + +He looked round for the native who had brought him thither, but it +seemed to him that he was alone, shut away by a frowning pile of rock +from the great amphitheatre in which the Wandis were celebrating their +return from the slaughter of their enemies. The shouting and the +shrieking continued in ghastly tumult, but for the moment he seemed to +be safe. + +The moon was up, but the shadows were very deep. He seemed to be +standing in a hollow, with sheer rock on three sides of him. The water +gurgled away down a narrow channel, and fell into darkness. With +infinite caution he crept forward to peer round the jutting boulder that +divided him from his enemies. + +The next instant sharply he drew back. A man armed with a long, native +spear was standing in the entrance. + +He was still a prisoner, then; that much was certain. But his guard was +single-handed. He began to consider the possibility of overpowering him. +He had no weapon, but he was a practised wrestler; and they were so far +removed from the yelling crowd about the fire that a scuffle in that +dark corner was little likely to attract attention. + +It was fairly obvious to him why he had been rescued from the fire. +Doubtless his gigantic struggles had been observed by the onlooker, and +he was considered too good a man to burn. They would keep him for a +slave, possibly mutilate him first. + +Again, stealthily, he investigated the position round that corner of +rock. The man's back was turned towards him. He seemed to be watching +the doings of the distant tribesmen. Herne freed himself from his ragged +garment, and crept nearer. His enemy was of no great stature. In fact, +he was the smallest Wandi that he had yet seen. He questioned with +himself if he could be full grown. + +Now or never was his chance, though a slender one at that, even if he +escaped immediate detection. He gathered himself together, and sprang +upon his unsuspecting foe. + +He aimed at the native weapon, knowing the dexterity with which this +could be shortened and brought into action, but it was wrenched from him +before he could securely grasp it. + +The man wriggled round like an eel, and in a moment the point was at his +throat. Herne flung up a defending arm, and took it through his flesh. +He knew in an instant that he was outmatched. His previous struggles had +weakened him, and his adversary, if slight, had the activity of a +serpent. + +For a few breathless seconds they swayed and fought, then again Herne +was conscious of that deadly point piercing his shoulder. With a sharp +exclamation, he shifted his ground, trod on a loose stone, and sprawled +headlong backward. + +He fell heavily, so heavily that all the breath was knocked out of his +body, and he could only lie, gasping and helpless, expecting death. His +enemy was upon him instantly, and he marvelled at the man's strength. +Sinewy hands encompassed his wrists, forcing his arms above his head. In +the darkness he could not see his face, though it was close to his own, +so close that he could feel his breathing, quick and hard, and knew that +it had been no light matter to master him. + +He himself had wholly ceased to fight. He was bleeding freely from the +shoulder, and a dizzy sense of powerlessness held him passive, awaiting +his deathblow. + +But still his adversary stayed his hand. The iron grip showed no sign of +relaxing, and to Herne, lying at his mercy, there came a fierce +impatience at the man's delay. + +"Curse you!" he flung upwards from between his teeth. "Why can't you +strike and have done?" + +His brain had begun to reel. He was scarcely in full possession of his +senses, or he had not wasted his breath in curses upon a savage who was +little likely to understand them. But the moment he had spoken, he knew +in some subtle fashion that his words had not fallen on uncomprehending +ears. + +The hands that held him relaxed very gradually. The man above him seemed +to be listening. Herne had a fantastic feeling that he was waiting for +something further, waiting as it were to gather impetus to slay him. + +And then, how it happened he had no notion, suddenly he was aware of a +change, felt the danger that menaced him pass, knew a surging darkness +that he took for death; and as his failing senses slid away from him he +thought he heard a voice that spoke his name. + + + + +VI + +"BE still, _effendi_!" + +It was no more than a whisper, but it pierced Herne's understanding as a +burst of light through a rent curtain. + +He opened his eyes wide. + +"Hassan!" he said faintly. + +"I am here, _effendi._" Very cautiously came the answer, and in the +dimness a figure familiar to him stooped over Herne. + +Herne tried to raise himself and failed with a groan. It was as if a +red-hot knife had stabbed his shoulder. + +"What happened?" he said. + +"The _effendi_ is wounded," the Arab made answer. "We are the prisoners +of the Mullah. The Wandis would have slain us, but he saved us alive. +Doubtless they will mutilate us presently as they are mutilating the +rest." + +Herne set his teeth. + +"What is this Mullah like?" he asked, after a moment. + +"A man small of stature, _effendi_, but very fierce, with the visage of +a devil. The Wandis fear him greatly. When he looks upon them with anger +they flee." + +Herne's eyes were striving to pierce the gloom. + +"Where on earth are we?" he said. + +"It is the Mullah's dwelling-place, _effendi_, at the gate of the City +of Stones. None may enter or pass out without his knowledge. His slaves +brought me hither while the _effendi_ was lying insensible. He cut my +bonds that I might bandage the _effendi's_ shoulder." + +Again Herne sought to raise himself, and with difficulty succeeded. He +could make out but little of his surroundings in the gloom, but it +seemed to him that he was close to the spot where he had received his +wound, for the murmur of the spring was still in his ears, and in the +distance the yelling of the savages continued. But he was faint and +dizzy from pain and loss of blood, and his investigations did not carry +him very far. For a while he retained his consciousness, but presently +slipped into a stupor of exhaustion, through which all outside +influences soon failed to penetrate. + +He dreamed after a time that Betty Derwent and he were sailing alone +together on a stormy sea, striving eternally to reach an island where +the sun shone and the birds sang, and being for ever flung back again +into the howling waste of waters till, in agony of soul, they ceased to +strive. + +Then came the morning, all orange and gold, shining pitilessly down upon +him, and he awoke to the knowledge that Betty was far away, and he was +tossing alone on a sea that yet was no sea, but an endless desert of +sand. Intense physical pain dawned upon him at the same time, pain that +was anguish, thrilling through every nerve, so that he pleaded +feverishly for death, not knowing what he said. + +No voice answered him. No help came. He rocked on and on in torment +through the sandy desolation, seeing strange visions dissolve before his +eyes, hearing sounds to which his tortured brain could give no meaning. +In the end, he lost himself utterly in the mazes of delirum, and all +understanding ceased. + +Long, long afterwards he came back as it were from a great journey, and +knew that Hassan was waiting upon him, ministering to him, tending him +as if he had been a child. He was too weak for speech, almost too weak +to open his eyes, but the life was still beating in his veins. It was +the turn of the tide. + +Wearily he dragged himself back from the endless waste in which he had +wandered, back to sanity, back to the problems of life. Hassan smiled +upon him as a mother upon her infant, being not without cause for +self-congratulation on his own account. + +"The _effendi_ is better," he said. "He will sleep and live." + +And Herne slept, as a child sleeps, for many hours. + +He awoke towards sunset to hear sounds that made him marvel--the +cheerful clatter of a camp, the voices of men, the protests of camels. + +It took him back to that last evening he had spent in contact with +civilization, the evening he had finally set himself to conquer the +unknown, in answer to a voice that called. How much of that mission had +he accomplished, he asked himself? How far was he even yet from his +goal? + +He gazed with drawn brows at the narrow walls of the tent in which he +lay, and presently, a certain measure of strength returning to him, he +raised himself on his sound arm and looked about him. + +On the instant he perceived the faithful Hassan watching beside him. The +Arab beamed upon him as their eyes met. + +"All is well, _effendi_," he said. "By the mercy of Allah, we have +reached the Great Desert, and are even now in the company of El Azra, +the spice merchant. We shall travel with his caravan in safety." + +"But how on earth did we get here?" questioned Herne. + +Hassan was eager to explain. + +"We escaped by night from Wanda three days ago, the Prophet of the +Wandis himself assisting us. You were wounded, _effendi_, and without +understanding. The Prophet of the Wandis bore you on his camel. It was a +journey of many dangers, but Allah protected us, and guided us to this +oasis, sending also El Azra to our succour. It is a strong caravan, +_effendi_. We shall be safe with him." + +But here Herne suddenly broke in upon his complacence. + +"It was not my intention to leave Wanda," he said, "till I had done what +I went to do. I must go back." + +"_Effendi_!" + +"I must go back!" he reiterated with force. "Do you think, because I +have been beaten once, I will give up in despair? I should have thought +you would have known me better by now." + +"But, _effendi_, there is nothing to be gained by going back," Hassan +pleaded. "The man you seek is dead, and we are already fifty miles from +Wanda." + +"How do you know he is dead?" Herne demanded. + +"From the mouth of the Wandi Prophet himself, _effendi_. He asked me +whence you came and wherefore, and when I told him, he said, 'The man is +dead.'" + +"Is this Prophet still with us?" Herne asked. + +"Yes, _effendi_, he is here. But he speaks no tongue save his own. And +he is a terrible man, with the face of a devil." + +"Bring him to me!" Herne said. + +"He will come, _effendi_; but he will only speak of himself. He will not +answer questions." + +"Enough! Fetch him!" Herne ordered. "And you remain and interpret!" + +But when Hassan was gone, his weakness returned upon him, and the +bitterness of defeat made itself felt. Was this the end of his long +struggle, to be overwhelmed at last by the odds he had so bravely dared? +It was almost unthinkable. He could not reconcile himself to it. And yet +at the heart of him lurked the conviction that failure was to be his +portion. He had attempted the impossible. He had offered himself in +vain; and any further sacrifice could only end in the same way. If Bobby +Duncannon were indeed dead, his task was done; but he had felt so +assured that he still lived that he could not bring himself to expel the +belief. It was the lack of knowledge that he could not endure, the +thought of returning to the woman he loved empty-handed, of seeing once +more the soul-hunger in her eyes, and being unable to satisfy it. + +No, he could not face it. He would have to go back, even though it meant +to his destruction, unless this Mad Prophet could furnish him with proof +incontestable of young Duncannon's death. He glanced with impatience +towards the entrance. Why did the man delay? + +He supposed the fellow would want _backsheesh_, and that thought sent +him searching among his tattered clothing for his pocket-book. He found +it with relief; and then again physical weakness asserted itself, and he +leaned back with closed eyes. His shoulder was throbbing with a fiery +pain. He wondered if Hassan knew how to treat it. If not, things would +probably get serious. + +The buzzing of a multitude of flies distracted his thoughts from this, +and he began to long ardently for a smoke. He roused himself to hunt for +his cigarette-case; but he sought in vain and finally desisted with a +groan. + +It was at this point that the tent-flap was drawn aside, admitting for a +moment the marvellous orange glow of the sinking sun, and a man attired +as an Arab came noiselessly in. + + + + +VII + + +Herne lay quite still, regarding his visitor with critical eyes. + +The latter stood with his back to the western glow. His face was more +than half concealed by one end of his turban. He made no advance, but +stood like a brazen image, motionless, inscrutable, seeming scarcely +aware of the Englishman's presence. + +It was Herne who broke the silence. The light was failing very rapidly. +He raised his voice with a touch of impatience. + +"Hassan, where are you?" + +At that the stranger moved, as one coming out of a deep reverie. + +"There is no need to call your servant," he said, halting slightly over +the words. "I speak your language." + +Herne opened his eyes in surprise. He knew that many of the Wandis had +come in contact with Englishmen, but few of them could be said to have a +knowledge of the language. He saw at a glance that the man before him +was no ordinary Wandi warrior. His build was too insignificant, more +suggestive of the Arab than the negro. His hands were like the hands of +an Egyptian mummy, dark of hue and incredibly bony. He wished he could +see the fellow's face. Hassan's description had fired his curiosity. + +"So," he said, "you speak English, do you? I am glad to hear it. And you +are the Mullah of Wanda, the man who saved my life?" + +He received no reply whatever from the man in the doorway. It was as if +he had not spoken. + +Herne frowned. It seemed likely to be an unsatisfactory interview after +all. But just as he was about to launch upon a fresh attempt, the man +spoke, in a slow, deep voice that was not without a certain richness of +tone. + +"You came to Wanda--my prisoner," he said. "You left because I do not +kill white men, and they are not good slaves. But if you return to Wanda +you will die. Therefore be wise, and go back to your people, as I go to +mine!" + +Herne raised himself to a sitting position. His shoulder was beginning +to hurt him intolerably, but he strove desperately to keep it in the +background of his consciousness. + +"Why don't you kill white men?" he said. + +But the question was treated with a silence that felt contemptuous. + +The glow without was fading swiftly, and the darkness was creeping up +like a curtain over the desert. The weird figure standing upright +against the door-flap seemed to take on a deeper mystery, a silence more +unfathomable. + +Herne began to feel as if he were in a dream. If the man had not spoken +he would have wondered if his very presence were but hallucination. + +He gathered his wits for another effort. + +"Tell me," he said, "do you never use white men as slaves?" + +Still that uncompromising silence. + +Herne persevered. + +"Three years ago, before the Wandis conquered the Zambas, there was a +white man, an Englishman, who placed himself at their head, and taught +them to fight. I am here to seek him. I shall not leave without news of +him." + +"The Englishman is dead!" It was as if a mummy uttered the words. The +speaker neither stirred nor looked at Herne. He seemed to be gazing into +space. + +Herne waited for more, but none came. + +"I want proof of his death," he said, speaking very deliberately. "I +must know beyond all doubt when and how he died." + +"The Englishman was burned with the other captives," the slow, +indifferent voice went on. "He died in the fire!" + +"What?" said Herne, with violence. "You devil! I don't believe it! I +thought you did not kill white men!" + +"He was not as other white men," came the unmoved reply. "The Wandis +feared his magic. Fire alone can destroy magic. He died slowly but--he +died!" + +"You devil!" Herne said again. + +His hand was fumbling feverishly at his bandaged shoulder. He scarcely +knew what he was doing. In his impotent fury he sought only for freedom, +not caring how he obtained it. Never in the whole of his life had he +longed so overpoweringly to crush a man's throat between his hands. + +But his strength was unequal to the effort. He sank back, gasping, +half-fainting, yet struggling fiercely against his weakness. Suddenly he +was aware of the blood welling up to his injured shoulder. He knew in an +instant that the wound had burst out afresh; knew, too, that the bandage +would be of no avail to check the flow. + +"Fetch Hassan!" he jerked out. + +But the man before him made no movement to obey. + +"Are you going to stand by, you infernal fiend, and watch me die?" Herne +flung at him. + +A thick mist was beginning to obscure his vision, but it seemed to him +that those last words of his took effect. Undoubtedly the man moved, +came nearer, stooped over him. + +"Go!" Herne gasped. "Go!" + +He could feel the blood soaking through the bandage under his hand, +spreading farther every instant. + +This was to be the end, then, to lie at the mercy of this madman till +death came to blot out all his efforts, all his hopes. He made a last +feeble effort to stanch that deadly flow, failed, sank down exhausted. + +It was then that a voice came to him out of the gathering darkness, +quick and urgent, speaking to him, as it were, across the gulf of years: + +"Monty, Monty, lie still, man! I'll see to you!" + +That voice recalled Herne, renewed his failing faculties, galvanized him +into life. The man with the mummy's hands was bending over him, +stripping away the useless bandage, fashioning it anew for the moment's +emergency. In a few seconds he was working at it with pitiless strength, +twisting and twisting again till the tension told, and Herne forced back +a groan. + +But he clung to consciousness with all his quivering strength, +bewildered, unbelieving still, yet hovering on the edge of conviction. + +"Is it really you, Bobby?" he whispered. "I can't believe it! Let me +look at you! Let me see for myself!" + +The man beside him made no answer. He had snatched up the first thing he +could find, a fragment of a broken tent-peg, to tighten the pressure +upon the wound. + +But, as if in response to Herne's appeal, he freed one hand momentarily, +and pushed back the covering from his face. And in the dim light Herne +looked, looked closely; then shut his eyes and sank back with an +uncontrollable shudder. + +"Merciful Heaven!" he said. + + + +VIII + + +"Monty, I say! Monty!" + +Again the gulf of years was bridged; again the voice he knew came down +to him. Herne wrestled with himself, and opened his eyes. + +The man in Arab dress was still kneeling by his side, the skeleton hands +still supported him, but the face was veiled again. + +He suppressed another violent shudder. + +"In Heaven's name," he said, "what are you?" + +"I am a dead man," came the answer. "Don't move! I will call your man in +a moment, but I must speak to you first. Do you feel all right?" + +"Bobby!" Herne said. + +"No, I am not Bobby. He died, you know, ages ago. They cut him up and +burned him. Don't move. I have stopped the bleeding, but it will easily +start again. Lean back--so! You needn't look at me. You will never see +me again. But if I hadn't shown you--once, you would never have +understood. Are you comfortable? Can you listen?" + +"Bobby!" Herne said again. + +He seemed incapable of anything but that one word, spoken over and over, +as though trying to make himself believe the incredible. + +"I am not Bobby," the voice reiterated. "Put that out of your mind for +ever! He belonged to another life, another world. Don't you believe me? +Must I show you--again? Do you really want to talk with me face to +face?" + +"Yes," Herne said, with abrupt resolution. "I will see you--talk with +you--as you are." + +There was a brief pause, and he braced himself to face, without +blenching, the thing that a moment before, his soldier's training +notwithstanding, had turned him sick with horror. But he was spared the +ordeal. + +"There is no need," said the familiar voice. "You have seen enough. I +don't want to haunt you, even though I am dead. What put it into your +head to come in search of me? You must have known I should be long past +any help from you." + +"I--wanted to know," Herne said. He was feeling curiously helpless, as +if, in truth, he were talking with a mummy. All the questions he desired +to put remained unuttered. He was confronted with the impossible, and he +was powerless to deal with it. + +"What did you want to know? How I died? And when? It was a thousand +years ago, when those damned Wandis swallowed up the Zambas. They took +me first--by treachery. Then they wiped out the entire tribe. The poor +devils were lost without me. I always knew they would be--but they made +a gallant fight for it." A thrill of feeling crept into the monotonous +voice, a tinge of the old abounding pride, but it was gone on the +instant, as if it had not been. "They slaughtered them all in the end," +came in level, dispassionate tones, "and, last of all, they killed me. +It was a slow process, but very complete. I needn't harrow your +feelings. Only be quite sure I am dead! The thing that used to be my +body was turned into an abomination that no sane creature could look +upon without a shudder. And as for my soul, devils took possession, so +that even the Wandis were afraid. They dare not touch me now. I have +trampled them, I have tortured them, I have killed them. They fly from +me like sheep. Yet, if I lead, they follow. They think, because I have +conquered them, that I am invincible, invulnerable, immortal. They +cringe before me as if I were a god. They would offer me human sacrifice +if I would have it. I am their talisman, their mascot, their safeguard +from defeat, their luck--a dead man, Herne, a dead man! Can't you see +the joke? Why don't you laugh?" + +Again the grim voice thrilled as if some fiendish mirth stirred it to +life. + +Herne moved and groaned, but spoke no word. + +"What? You don't see it? You never had much sense of humour. And yet +it's a good thing to laugh when you can. We savages don't know how to +laugh. We only yell. That is all you wanted to know, is it? You will go +back now with an easy mind?" + +"As if that could be all!" Herne muttered. + +"That is all. And count yourself lucky that I haven't killed you. It was +touch and go that night you attacked me. You may die yet." + +"I may. But it won't be your fault if I do. Great Heaven, I might have +killed you!" + +"So you might." Again came that quiver of dreadful laughter. "That would +have been the end of the story for everyone, for you wouldn't have got +away without me. But that was no part of the program. Even you couldn't +kill a dead man. Feel that, if you don't believe me!" Suddenly one of +the shrivelled, mummy hands came down to his own. "How much life is +there in that?" + +Herne gripped the hand. It was cold and clammy; he could feel every +separate bone under the skin. He could almost hear them grind together +in his hold. He repressed another shudder; and even as he did it, he +heard again the bitter cry of a woman's wrung heart, "Bobby is still +alive and wanting me." + +Would she say that when she knew? Would she still reach out her hands to +this monstrous wreck of humanity, this shattered ruin of what had once +been a tower of splendid strength? Would she feel bound to offer +herself? Was her love sufficient to compass such a sacrifice? The bare +thought revolted him. + +"Are you satisfied?" asked the voice that seemed to him like a mocking +echo of Bobby's ardent tones. "Why don't you speak?" + +A great struggle was going on in Herne's soul. For Betty's sake--for +Betty's sake--should he hold his peace? Should he take upon himself a +responsibility that was not his? Should he deny this man the chance that +was his by right--the awful chance--of returning to her? The temptation +urged him strongly; the fight was fierce. But--was it because he still +grasped that bony hand?--he conquered in the end. + +"I haven't told you yet why I came to look for you," he said. + +"Is it worth while?" The question was peculiarly deliberate, yet not +wholly cynical. + +Desperately Herne compelled himself to answer. + +"You have got to know it, seeing it was not for my own +satisfaction--primarily--that I came." + +"Why then?" The brief query held scant interest; but the hand he still +grasped stirred ever so slightly in his. + +Herne set his teeth. + +"Because--someone--wanted you." + +"No one ever wanted me," said the Wandi Mullah curtly. + +But Herne had tackled his task, and he pursued it unflinching. + +"I came for the sake of a woman who once--long ago--refused to marry +you, but who has been waiting for you--ever since." + +"A woman?" Undoubtedly there was a savage note in the words. The +shrunken fingers clenched upon Herne's hand. + +"Betty Derwent," said Herne very quietly. + +Dead silence fell in the darkened tent--the silence of the desert, +subtle, intense, in a fashion terrible. It lasted for a long time; so +long a time that Herne suffered himself at last to relax, feeling the +strain to be more than he could bear. He leaned among his pillows, and +waited. Yet still, persistently, he grasped that cold, sinuous hand, +though the very touch of it repelled him, as the touch of a reptile +provokes instinctive loathing. It lay quite passive in his own, a thing +inanimate, yet horribly possessed of life. + +Slowly at last through the darkness a voice came: + +"Monty!" + +It was hardly more than a whisper; yet on the instant, as if by magic, +all Herne's repulsion, his involuntary, irrepressible shrinking, was +gone. He was back once more on the other side of the gulf, and the hand +he held was the hand of a friend. + +"My dear old chap!" he said very gently. + +Vaguely he discerned the figure by his side. It sat huddled, mummy-like +but it held no horrors for him any longer. They were not face to face +in that moment--they were soul to soul. + +"I say--Monty," stumblingly came the words, "you know--I never dreamed +of this. I thought she would have married--long ago. And she has been +waiting--all these years?" + +"All these years," Herne said. + +"Do you think she has suffered?" There was a certain sharpness in the +question, as if it were hard to utter. + +And Herne, pledged to honesty, made brief reply: + +"Yes." + +There followed a pause; then: + +"Will it grieve her--very badly--to know that I am dead?" asked the +voice beside him. + +"Yes, it will grieve her." Herne spoke as if compelled. + +"But she will get over it, eh?" + +"I believe so." Herne's lips were dry; he forced them to utterance. + +The free hand fastened claw-like upon his arm. + +"You'll tell me the straight truth, man," said Bobby's voice in his ear. +"What if I--came to life?" + +But Herne was silent. He could not bring himself to answer. + +"Speak out!" urged the voice--Bobby's voice, quick, insistent, even +imploring. "Don't be afraid! I haven't any feelings left worth +considering. She wouldn't get over that, you think? No woman could!" + +Herne turned in desperation, and faced his questioner. + +"God knows!" he said helplessly. + +Again there fell a silence, such a silence as falls in a death-chamber +at the moment of the spirit's passing. The darkness was deepening. Herne +could scarcely discern the figure by his side. + +The hand upon his arm had grown slack. All vitality seemed to have gone +out of it. It was as though the spirit had passed indeed. And in the +stillness Herne knew that he was recrossing the gulf, that his +friend--the boy he had known and loved--was receding rapidly, rapidly +behind the veil of years, would soon be lost to him for ever. + +The voice that spoke to him at length was the voice of a stranger. + +"Remember," it said, "Bobby Duncannon is dead--has been dead for years! +Let no woman waste her life waiting for him, for he will never return! +Let her marry instead the man who wants her, and put the empty years +behind! In no other way will she find happiness." + +"But you?" Herne groaned. "You?" + +The hand he held had slipped from his grasp. Through the dimness he saw +the man beside him rise to his feet. A moment he stood; then flung up +his arms above his head in a fierce gesture of renunciation that sent a +stab of recollection through Herne. + +"I! I go to my people!" said the Prophet of the Wandis. "And you--will +go to yours." + +It was final, and Herne knew it; yet his heart cried out within him for +the friend he had lost. Suddenly he found he could not bear it. + +"Bobby! Bobby!" he burst forth impulsively. "Stop, man, stop and think! +There must be some other way. You can't--you shan't--go back!" + +He hardly knew what he said, so great was his distress. The gulf was +widening, widening, and he was powerless. He knew that it could never be +bridged again. + +"It's too big a forfeit," he urged very earnestly. "You can't do it. I +won't suffer it. For Betty's sake--Bobby, come back!" + +And then, for the last time, he heard his friend's voice across the +ever-widening gulf. + +"For Betty's sake, old chap, I am a dead man. Remember that! It's you +who must go back to her. Marry her, love her, make her--forget!" + +For an instant those mummy hands rested upon him, held him, caressed +him; it was almost as if they blessed him. For an instant the veil was +lifted; they were comrades together. Then it fell.... + +There came a quiet movement, the sound of departing feet. + +Herne turned and blindly searched the darkness. Across the gulf he cried +to his friend to return to him. + +"Bobby, come back, lad, come back! We'll find some other way." + +But there came no voice in answer, no sound of any sort. The desert had +received back its secret. He was alone.... + + + +IX + + +"Now, don't bother any more about me!" commanded Betty Derwent, +establishing herself with an air of finality on the edge of the trout +stream to which she had just suffered herself to be conducted by her +companion. "I am quite capable of baiting my own hook if necessary. You +run along up-stream and have some sport on your own account!" + +The companion, a very young college man, looked decidedly blank over +this kindly dismissal. He had been manoeuvring to get Betty all to +himself for days, but, since everybody seemed to want her, it had been +no easy matter. And now, to his disgust, just as he was congratulating +himself upon having gained his end and secured a _tête-à-tête_ that, +with luck, might last for hours, he was coolly told to run along and +amuse himself while she fished in solitude. + +"I say, you know," he protested, "that's rather hard lines." + +"Don't be absurd!" said Betty. "I came out to catch fish, not to talk. +And you are going to do the same." + +"Oh, confound the fish!" said the luckless one. + +Nevertheless, he yielded, seeing that it was expected of him, and took +himself off, albeit reluctantly. + +Betty watched him go, with a faint smile. He was a nice boy undoubtedly, +but she much preferred him at a distance. + +She sat down on the bank above the trout-stream, and took a letter from +her pocket. It had reached her the previous day, and she had already +read it many times. This fact, however, did not deter her from reading +it yet again, her chin upon her hand. It was not a lengthy epistle. + + "DEAR BETTY," it said, "I am back from my wanderings, and I + am coming straight to you; but I want you to get this letter + first, in time to stop me, if you feel so inclined. It is + useless for me to attempt to soften what I have to say. I + can only put it briefly, just because I know--too well--what + it will mean to you. Betty, the boy is dead, has been dead + for years. How he died and exactly when, I do not know; but + I have certified the fact of his death beyond all question. + He died at the hands of the Wandis, when his own men, the + Zambas, were defeated. So much I heard from the Wandi Mullah + himself, and more than that I cannot tell you. My dear, that + is the end of your romance, and I know that you will never + weave another. But, that notwithstanding, I am coming--now, + if you will have me--later, if you desire it--to claim you + for myself. Your happiness always has and always will come + first with me, and neither now nor hereafter shall I ever + ask of you more than you are disposed to give.--Ever yours," + + "MONTAGUE HERNE." + +Very slowly Betty's eyes travelled over the paper. She read right to the +end, and then suffered her eyes to rest for a long time upon the +signature. Her fishing-rod lay forgotten on the ground beside her. She +seemed to be thinking deeply. + +Once, rather suddenly, she moved to look at the watch on her wrist. It +was drawing towards noon. She had sent no message to delay him. Would he +have travelled by the night train? But she dismissed that conjecture as +unlikely. Herne was not a man to do anything headlong. He would give her +ample time. She almost wished--she checked the sigh that rose to her +lips. No, it was better as it was. A man's ardour was different from a +boy's; and she--she was a girl no longer. Her romance was dead. + +A slight sound beside her, a footstep on the grass! She turned, looked, +sprang to her feet. The vivid colour rushed up over her face. + +"You!" she gasped, almost inarticulately. + +He had come by the night train after all. + +He came up to her quite quietly, with that leisureliness of gait that +she remembered so well. + +"Didn't you expect me?" he said. + +She held out a hand that trembled. + +"Yes, I--I knew you would come; only, you see, I hardly thought you +would get here so soon." + +"But you meant me to come?" he said. + +His hand held hers closely, warmly, reassuringly. He looked into her +face. + +For a few seconds she evaded the look with a shyness beyond her control; +then resolutely she mastered herself and met his eyes. + +"Yes, I meant you to come. I am glad you are back. I--" She broke off +suddenly, gazing at him in consternation. "Monty," she exclaimed, "you +never told me you had been ill!" + +He smiled at that, and her agitation began to subside. + +"I am well again, Betty," he said. + +"Oh, but you don't look it," she protested. "You look--you look as if +you had suffered--horribly. Have you?" + +He passed the question by. "At least, I have managed to come back +again," he said, "as I promised." + +"I--I am thankful to see you again," she faltered her shyness returning +upon her. "I've been--desperately anxious." + +"On my account?" said Herne. + +She bent her head. "Yes." + +"Lest I shouldn't come back?" + +"Yes," she said again. + +"But I told you I should," He was still holding her hand, trying to read +her downcast face. + +"Oh, I knew you would if you could," said Betty. "Only--I couldn't help +thinking--of what you said about--about sacrificing substance +to--shadow. It--was very wrong of me to send you." + +She spoke unevenly, with obvious effort. She seemed determined that he +should not have that glimpse into her soul which he so evidently +desired. + +"My dear Betty," he said, "I went on my own account as much as on yours. +I think you forget that. Or are you remembering--and regretting--it?" + +She had begun to tremble. He laid a steadying hand upon her shoulder. + +"No," she said faintly. Then swiftly, impulsively, she raised her face. +"Major Herne, I--I want to tell you something--before you say any more." + +"What is it, Betty?" he said. + +"Just this," she made answer, speaking very quickly. "I--I am not good +enough for you. I haven't been--straight with you. I've been realizing +it more and more ever since you went away. I--I'm quite despicable. I've +been miserable about it--wretched--all the time you have been away." + +Herne's face changed. A certain grimness came into it. + +"But, my dear girl," he said, "you never pretended to be in love with +me." + +She drew a sharp breath of distress. + +"I know," she said. "I know. And I let you go to that dreadful place, +though I knew--before you went--that, whatever happened, it could make +no difference to me. But I hadn't the courage to tell you the truth. +After what passed between us that night, I felt--I couldn't. And so--and +so--I let you go, even though I knew I was deceiving you. Oh, do forgive +me if you can! I've had my punishment. I have been nearly mad with +anxiety lest any harm should come to you." + +"I suppose I ought to be grateful for that," Herne said. He still looked +grim, but there was no anger about him. He had taken his hand from her +shoulder, but he still held her trembling fingers in his quiet grasp. +"Don't fret!" he said. "Where's the use? I shall get over it somehow. If +you are quite sure you know your own mind, there is no more to be said." +He spoke with no shadow of emotion. His eyes looked into hers with +absolute steadiness. He even, after a moment, very faintly smiled. +"Except good-bye!" he said. "And perhaps the sooner I say that the +better." + +But at this point Betty broke in upon him breathlessly, almost +incoherently. + +"Major Herne, I--I don't understand. You--you can say good-bye, of +course--if you wish. But--it will be by your own choice if you do." + +"What?" he said. + +She snatched her hand suddenly from him. + +"I suppose you mean to punish me, to make me pay for my--idiocy. +You--you think--" + +"I think that either you or I must be mad," said Herne. + +"Then it's you!" flung back Betty half hysterically. "To imagine for one +moment that I--that I meant--that!" + +"Meant what?" A sudden note of sternness made itself heard in Herne's +voice. He moved a step forward, and took her shoulders between his +hands, looking at her closely, unsparingly. "Betty," he said, "let us at +least understand one another! Tell me what you meant just now!" + +She faced him defiantly + +"I didn't mean anything." + +He passed that by. + +"Why did you ask my forgiveness?" + +She made a sharp gesture of repudiation. + +"What was there to forgive?" he insisted. + +"I--I am not going to tell you," said Betty, with great distinctness. + +Again he overlooked her open defiance. + +"You are afraid. Why?" + +"I'm not!" said Betty almost fiercely. + +"You are afraid," he repeated deliberately, "afraid of my finding +out--something. Betty, look at me!" + +Her face was scarlet. She turned it swiftly from him. + +"Let me go!" + +"Look at me!" he repeated. + +She began to pant. She was quivering between his hands like a wild thing +caught. "Major Herne, it isn't fair of you! Let me go!" + +"Never, Betty!" He spoke with sudden decision; but all the grimness had +gone from his face. "You may as well give in, for I have you at my +mercy. And I will be merciful if you do, but not otherwise." + +"How dare you?" gasped Betty almost inarticulately. + +"I dare do many things," said Montague Herne, with a smile that was not +all mirthful. "How long have you left off crying for the moon? Tell me!" + +"I won't tell you anything!" protested Betty. + +"Yes, you will. I have got to know it. If you will only give in like a +wise woman, you will find it much easier." + +His voice held persuasion this time. For a little she made as if she +would continue to resist him; then impulsively she yielded. + +"Oh, Monty!" she said, with a sob; and the next moment was in his arms. + +He held her close. + +"Come!" he said. "You can tell me now." + +"I--don't know," whispered Betty, her face hidden. "You--frightened me +by being so ready to go away again. I couldn't help wondering if it had +been just kindness that prompted you to come to me. It--I suppose it +wasn't?" A startled note of interrogation sounded in her voice. She was +trembling still. + +"Betty, Betty!" he said. + +"Forgive me!" she whispered back, "You see, I couldn't have endured +that, because I--love you. No, wait; I haven't finished. I want you to +know the truth. I've been sacrificing substance to shadow, reality to +dreams, all my life--all my life. But that night--the night I took you +into my confidence--you opened my eyes. I began to see what I was doing. +But I hadn't the courage to tell you so, and it seemed not quite fair to +Bobby so I held my peace. + +"I let you go. But I knew--I knew before you went--that even if you +found him, even if you brought him back, even if he cared for me still, +I should have nothing to give him. My feeling for him was just a dream +from which I had awakened. Oh, Monty, I was yours even then; and I kept +it back. That was why I wanted your forgiveness." + +Breathlessly she ended, and in silence he heard her out. He was holding +her very closely to him, but his eyes looked beyond her, as though they +searched a far horizon. + +"Do you understand?" whispered Betty at last. + +He moved, and the look in his eyes changed. It was as if the horizon +narrowed. + +"I understand," he said. + +She lifted her face, with a gesture half shy, half confiding. + +"Are you going to forgive me, Monty? I--I've paid a big price for my +foolishness--bigger than you will ever know. I kept asking +myself--asking myself--whatever I should do if you--if you brought him +back." + +"Poor child!" he said. "Poor little Betty!" + +She clung to him suddenly. + +"Oh, wasn't I an idiot? And yet, somehow, I feel so treacherous. +Monty--Monty, you're sure he is dead?" + +"Yes, he is dead," said Herne deliberately. + +She drew a deep breath. + +"I'm so thankful he never knew!" she said. "I--I don't suppose he really +cared, do you? Not enough to spoil his life?" + +"God knows!" said Montague Herne very gravely. + + * * * * * + +"Hullo!" said Betty's fellow-sportsman, making his appearance some time +later. "Getting on for grub-time, eh? How have you got on? Why, I +thought you came out to fish, and not to talk! Who on earth----" + +"My _fiancé_," said Betty quickly. + +"Your--Hullo! Why, it's Major Herne! Delighted to see you! Had no idea +you were in this country. Thought you were hunting big game somewhere in +Africa." + +"I was," said Herne. "I--had no luck. So I came home." + +"Where--presumably--you found it! Congratulations! Betty, I'm pleased!" + +"How nice of you!" said Betty. + +"Yes, it is rather, all things considered. How ever, I suppose even I +must regard it as a blessing in disguise. Perhaps, when you are +married, you will kindly leave off breaking all our hearts for nothing!" + +"Perhaps you will leave off being so foolish as to let them be broken," +returned Betty, with spirit. + +"Ah, perhaps! Not very likely though I fear. Hearts are tender +things--eh, Major Herne? And when someone like Betty comes along there +is sure to be some damage done. It's the penalty we have to pay for +being only human." + +"Ah, well, you soon get over it," said Betty quickly. + +"How do you know that? I may perhaps, if I'm lucky; but there are +exceptions to every rule. Some of us go on paying the penalty all our +lives." + +A moment's silence followed the light words. Betty apparently had +nothing to say. + +And then: "And some of us don't even know the meaning of the word!" said +Montague Herne. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSA MUNDI AND OTHER STORIES*** + + +******* This file should be named 13774-8.txt or 13774-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/7/7/13774 + + + +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. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: +https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/old/13774-8.zip b/old/13774-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa070dd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13774-8.zip diff --git a/old/13774-h.zip b/old/13774-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..97f203c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13774-h.zip diff --git a/old/13774-h/13774-h.htm b/old/13774-h/13774-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..80ee0aa --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13774-h/13774-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12721 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Rosa Mundi and Other Stories, by Ethel M. 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%; } + 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: 8pt;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Rosa Mundi and Other Stories, by Ethel M. Dell</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Rosa Mundi and Other Stories</p> +<p>Author: Ethel M. Dell</p> +<p>Release Date: October 17, 2004 [eBook #13774]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSA MUNDI AND OTHER STORIES***</p> +<br><br><h3>E-text prepared by Audrey Longhurst, Gregory Smith,<br> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3><br><br> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<br> +<center> +<img src='images/cover.jpg' width='300' height='471' alt='' title=''> +</center> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>ROSA MUNDI</h2> + +<h3><i>and Other Stories</i></h3> + +<h3>BY ETHEL M. DELL</h3> + +<h5>AUTHOR OF</h5> + +<h5><i>The Bars of Iron, The Keeper of the Door,<br /> +The Knave of Diamonds, The Obstacle Race,<br /> +The Rocks of Valpré, The Way of an Eagle, etc.</i></h5> + +<br /> + +<center> +<img src='images/002.jpg' width='100' height='100' alt='' title=''> +</center> +<br /><br /> +<br> +<br> +<a name='CONTENTS'></a><h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<br /> + + <a href='#Rosa_Mundi'><b>ROSA MUNDI</b></a><br /> + +<br /> + + <a href='#A_Debt_of_Honour'><b>A DEBT OF HONOR</b></a><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'> <a href='#A_Debt_of_Honour'><b>I.—HOPE AND THE MAGICIAN</b></a><br /></span> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_II'><b>II.—THE VISITOR</b></a><br /></span> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'> <a href='#Debt_III'><b>III.—THE FRIEND IN NEED</b></a><br /></span> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_IV'><b>IV.—HER NATURAL PROTECTOR</b></a><br /></span> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_V'><b>V.—MORE THAN A FRIEND</b></a><br /></span> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_VI'><b>VI.—HER ENEMY</b></a><br /></span> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_VII'><b>VII.—THE SCRAPE</b></a><br /></span> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_VIII'><b>VIII.—BEFORE THE RACE</b></a><br /></span> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_IX'><b>IX.—THE RACE</b></a><br /></span> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'> <a href='#Debt_X'><b>X.—THE ENEMY'S TERMS</b></a><br /></span> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_XI'><b>XI.—WITHOUT DEFENCE</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_XII'><b>XII.—THE PENALTY</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_XIII'><b>XIII.—THE CURSE OF THE VALLEY</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_XIV'><b>XIV.—HOW THE TALE WAS TOLD</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_XV'><b>XV.—THE NIGHT OF DESPAIR</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Debt_XVI'><b>XVI.—THE COMING OF HOPE</b></a><br /></span><br /> + +<br /> + + <a href='#The_Deliverer'><b>THE DELIVERER</b></a><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#The_Deliverer'><b>I.—A PROMISE OF MARRIAGE</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Deliverer_II'><b>II.—A RING OF VALUE</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Deliverer_III'><b>III.—THE HONEYMOON</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Deliverer_IV'><b>IV.—A GRIEVOUS WOUND</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Deliverer_V'><b>V.—A STRUGGLE FOR MASTERY</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Deliverer_VI'><b>VI.—AN OFFER OF HELP</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Deliverer_VII'><b>VII.—THE DELIVERER</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Deliverer_VIII'><b>VIII.—AFTER THE ACCIDENT</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Deliverer_IX'><b>IX.—THE END OF A MYSTERY</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Deliverer_X'><b>X.—TAKEN TO TASK</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Deliverer_XI'><b>XI.—MONEY'S NOT EVERYTHING</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Deliverer_XII'><b>XII.—AFTERWARDS—LOVE</b></a></span><br /> + +<br /> + + <a href='#The_Prey_of_the_Dragon'><b>THE PREY OF THE DRAGON</b></a><br /> + +<br /> + + <a href='#The_Secret_Service_Man'><b>THE SECRET SERVICE MAN</b></a><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#The_Secret_Service_Man'><b>I.—A TIGHT PLACE</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Secret_II'><b>II.—A BROKEN FRIENDSHIP</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Secret_III'><b>III.—DERRICK'S PARADISE</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Secret_IV'><b>IV.—CARLYON DEFENDS HIMSELF</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Secret_V'><b>V.—A WOMAN'S FORGIVENESS</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Secret_VI'><b>VI.—FIEND OR KING?</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Secret_VII'><b>VII.—THE REAL COLONEL CARLYON</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Secret_VIII'><b>VIII.—THE STRANGER ON THE VERANDA</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Secret_IX'><b>IX.—A FIGHT IN THE NIGHT</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Secret_X'><b>X.—SAVED A SECOND TIME</b></a></span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2em;'><a href='#Secret_XI'><b>XI.—THE SECRET OUT</b></a></span><br /> + +<br /> + + <a href='#The_Penalty'><b>THE PENALTY</b></a><br /> + +<br /> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Rosa_Mundi'></a><h2>Rosa Mundi</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Was the water blue, or was it purple that day? Randal Courteney +stretched his lazy length on the shady side of the great natural +breakwater that protected Hurley Bay from the Atlantic rollers, and +wondered. It was a day in late September, but the warmth of it was as a +dream of summer returned. The season was nearly over, or he had not +betaken himself thither, but the spell of heat had prolonged it unduly. +It had been something of a shock to him to find the place still occupied +by a buzzing crowd of visitors. He never came to it till he judged the +holidays to be practically over. For he loved it only when empty. His +idea of rest was solitude.</p> + +<p>He wondered how long this pearly weather would last, and scanned the sky +for a cloud. In vain! There was no cloud all round that blue horizon, +and behind him the cliffs stood stark against an azure sky. Summer was +lingering, and even he had not the heart to wish her gone.</p> + +<p>Something splashed noisily on the other side of the rocky breakwater. +Something squeaked and gurgled. The man frowned. He had tramped a +considerable distance to secure privacy. He had his new novel to think +out. This invasion was intolerable. He had not even smoked the first +pipe of his meditations. Impatiently he prepared to rise and depart.</p> + +<p>But in that moment a voice accosted him, and in spite of himself he +paused. "I want to get over the breakwater," said the voice. "There's +such a large crab lives this side."</p> + +<p>It was an engaging voice—a voice with soft, lilting notes in it—the +voice of a child.</p> + +<p>Courteney's face cleared a little. The grimness went out of his frown, +the reluctance from his attitude. He stood up against the rocky barrier +and stretched his hands over to the unseen owner of the voice.</p> + +<p>"I'll help you," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" There was an instant's pause; then two other hands, wet, cool, +slender, came up, clasping his. A little leap, a sudden strain, and a +very pink face beneath a cloud of golden hair laughed down into his. +"You must pull," she said; "pull hard!"</p> + +<p>Courteney obeyed instructions. He pulled, and a pair of slim shoulders +clad in white, with a blue sailor collar, came into view. He pulled +again, and a white knee appeared, just escaping a blue serge skirt. At +the third pull she was over and standing, bare-footed, by his side. It +had been a fairy leap. He marvelled at the lightness of her till he saw +her standing so, with merry eyes upraised to his. Then he laughed, for +she was laughing—the infectious laugh of the truant.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you ever so much," she said. "I knew it was much nicer this +side than the other. No one can see us here, either."</p> + +<p>"Is that why you wanted to get over?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She nodded, her pink face all mystery. "It's nice to get away from +everyone sometimes, isn't it? Even Rosa Mundi thinks that. Did you know +that she is here? It is being kept a dead secret."</p> + +<p>"Rosa Mundi!" Courteney started. He looked down into the innocent face +upraised to his with something that was almost horror in his own. "Do +you mean that dancing woman from Australia? What can a child like you +know of her?"</p> + +<p>She smiled at him, the mystery still in her eyes. "I do know her. I +belong to her. Do you know her, too?"</p> + +<p>A sudden hot flush went up over Courteney's face. He knew the woman; +yes, he knew her. Was it years ago—or was it but yesterday?—that he +had yielded to the importunities of his friend, young Eric Baron, and +gone to see her dance? The boy had been infatuated, wild with the lure +of her. Ah well, it was over now. She had been his ruin, just as she had +been the ruin of others like him. Baron was dead and free for ever from +the evil spell of his enchantress. But he had not thought to hear her +name in this place and on the lips of a child.</p> + +<p>It revolted him. For she had utterly failed to attract his fancy. He +was fastidious, and all he had seen in her had been the sensuous charm +of a sinuous grace which, to him, was no charm at all. He had almost +hated her for the abject adoration that young Eric's eyes had held. Her +art, wonderful though he admitted it to be, had wholly failed to enslave +him. He had looked her once—and once only—in the eyes, judged her, and +gone his way.</p> + +<p>And now this merry-eyed, rosy-faced child came, fairy-footed, over the +barrier of his reserve, and spoke with a careless familiarity of the +only being in the world whom he had condemned as beyond the pale.</p> + +<p>"I'm not supposed to tell anyone," she said, with sapphire eyes uplifted +confidingly to his. "She isn't—really—here before the end of the week. +You won't tell, will you? Only when I saw you plodding along out here by +yourself, I just had to come and tell you, to cheer you up."</p> + +<p>He stood and looked at her, not knowing what to say. It was as if some +adverse fate were at work, driving him, impelling him.</p> + +<p>The soft eyes sparkled into laughter. "I know who you are," chuckled the +gay voice on a high note of merriment. "You are Randal Courteney, the +writer. It's not a bit of good trying to hide, because everybody knows."</p> + +<p>He attempted a frown, but failed in its achievement. "And who are you?" +he said, looking straight into the daring, trusting eyes. She was, not +beautiful, but her eyes were wonderful; they held a mystery that +beckoned and eluded in the same subtle moment.</p> + +<p>"I?" she said. "I am her companion, her familiar spirit. Sometimes she +calls me her angel."</p> + +<p>The man moved as if something had stung him, but he checked himself with +instinctive self-control. "And your name?" he said.</p> + +<p>She turned out her hands with a little gesture that was utterly +unstudied and free from self-consciousness. "My name is Rosemary," she +said. "It means—remembrance."</p> + +<p>"You are her adopted child?" Courteney was, looking at her curiously. +Out of what part of Rosa Mundi's strange, fretted existence had the +desire for remembrance sprung to life? He had deemed her a woman of many +episodes, each forgotten as its successor took its place. Yet it seemed +this child held a corner in her memory that was to last.</p> + +<p>She turned her face to the sun. "We have adopted each other," she said +naïvely. "When Rosa Mundi is old, I shall take her place, so that she +may still be remembered."</p> + +<p>The words, "Heaven forbid!" were on Courteney's lips. He checked them +sharply, but something of his original grimness returned as he said, +"And now that you are on the other side of the breakwater, what are you +going to do?"</p> + +<p>She looked up at him speculatively, and in a moment tossed back the +short golden curls that clustered at her neck. She was sublimely young. +In the eyes of the man, newly awakened, she had the look of one who has +seen life without comprehending it. "I always like to get the other side +of things, don't you?" she said. "But I won't stay with you if you are +bored. I am going right to the end of the rocks to see the tide come +in."</p> + +<p>"And be washed away?" suggested Courteney.</p> + +<p>"Oh no," she assured him confidently. "That won't happen. I'm not nearly +so young as I look. I only dress like this when I want to enjoy myself. +Rosa Mundi says"—her eyes were suddenly merry—"that I'm not +respectable. Now, don't you think that sounds rather funny?"</p> + +<p>"From her—yes," said Courteney.</p> + +<p>"You don't like her?" The shrewd curiosity of a child who desires +understanding upon a forbidden subject was in the question.</p> + +<p>The man evaded it. "I have never seen her except in the limelight."</p> + +<p>"And you didn't like her—then?" Keen disappointment sounded in her +voice.</p> + +<p>His heart smote him. The child was young, though possibly not so young +as she looked. She had her ideals, and they would be shattered soon +enough without any help from him.</p> + +<p>With a brief laugh he turned aside, dismissing the subject. "That form +of entertainment doesn't appeal to me much," he said. "Now it's your +turn to tell me something. I have been wondering about the colour of +that sea. Would you call it blue—or purple?"</p> + +<p>She looked, and again the mystery was in her face. For a moment she did +not speak. Then, "It is violet," she said—"the colour of Rosa Mundi's +eyes."</p> + +<p>Ere the frown had died from his face she was gone, pattering lightly +over the sand, flitting like a day-dream into the blinding sunshine that +seemed to drop a veil behind her, leaving him to his thoughts.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Randal Courteney was an old and favoured guest at the Hurley Bay Hotel. +From his own particular corner of the great dining-room he was +accustomed to look out upon the world that came and went. Frequently +when he was there the place was almost deserted, and always he had been +treated as the visitor of most importance. But to-night, for the first +time, he found himself supplanted. Someone of more importance was +staying in the hotel, someone who had attracted crowds, whose popularity +amounted almost to idolatry.</p> + +<p>The hotel was full, but Courteney, despite his far-reaching fame, was +almost entirely overlooked. News had spread that the wonderful +Australian dancer was to perform at the Pier Pavilion at the end of the +week, and the crowds had gathered to do her honour. They were going to +strew the Pier with roses on the night of her appearance, and they were +watching even now for the first sign of her with all the eager curiosity +that marks down any celebrity as fair prey. Courteney smiled grimly to +himself. How often it had been his lot to evade the lion-hunters! It was +an unspeakable relief to have the general attention thus diverted from +himself. Doubtless Rosa Mundi would revel in it. It was her <i>rôle</i> in +life, the touchstone of her profession. Adulation was the very air she +breathed.</p> + +<p>He wondered a little to find her seeking privacy, even for a few days. +Just a whim of hers, no doubt! Was she not ever a creature of whims? And +it would not last. He remembered how once young Eric Baron had told him +that she needed popularity as a flower needs the sun. His rose of the +world had not been created to bloom unseen. The boy had been absurdly +long-suffering, unbelievably blind. How bitter, how cruel, had been his +disillusion, Courteney could only guess. Had she ever cared, ever +regretted, he wondered? But no, he was sure she had not. She would care +for nothing until the bloom faded. Then, indeed, possibly, remorse might +come.</p> + +<p>Someone passing his table paused and spoke—the managing director of the +Hurley Bay Theatre and of a score of others, a man he knew slightly, +older than himself. "The hive swarms in vain," he said. "The queen +refuses to emerge."</p> + +<p>Courteney's expression was supremely cynical. "I was not aware that she +was of such a retiring disposition," he said.</p> + +<p>The other man laughed. He was an American, Ellis Grant by name, a man of +gross proportions, but keen-eyed, iron-jawed, and successful. "There is +a rumour," he said, "that she is about to be married. Possibly that +might account for her shyness."</p> + +<p>His look was critical. Courteney threw back his head almost with +defiance. "It doesn't interest me," he said curtly.</p> + +<p>Ellis Grant laughed again and passed on. He valued his acquaintanceship +with the writer. He would not jeopardize it with over-much familiarity. +But he did not believe in the utter lack of interest that he professed. +No living man who knew her could be wholly indifferent to the doings of +Rosa Mundi. The fiery charm of her, her passionate vitality, made that +impossible.</p> + +<p>Courteney finished his dinner and went out. The night was almost as hot +as the day had been. He turned his back on the Pier, that was lighted +from end to end, and walked away down the long parade.</p> + +<p>He was beginning to wish himself out of the place. He had an absurd +feeling of being caught in some web of Fate that clung to him +tenaciously, strive as he would. Grant's laugh of careless incredulity +pursued him. There had been triumph also in that laugh. No doubt the +fellow anticipated a big haul on Rosa Mundi's night.</p> + +<p>And again there rose before him the memory of young Eric Baron's ardent +face. "I'd marry her to-morrow if she'd have me," the boy had said to +him once.</p> + +<p>The boy had been a fool, but straight. The woman—well, the woman was +not the marrying sort. He was certain of that. She was elusive as a +flame. Impatiently yet again he flung the thought of her from him. What +did it matter to him? Why should he be haunted by her thus? He would not +suffer it.</p> + +<p>He tramped to the end of the parade and stood looking out over the dark +sea. He was sorry for that adopted child of hers. That face of innocence +rose before him clear against the gathering dark. Not much chance for +the child, it seemed! Utterly unspoilt and unsophisticated at present, +and the property of that <i>demi-mondaine</i>! He wondered if there could be +any relationship between them. There was something in the child's eyes +that in some strange fashion recalled the eyes of Rosa Mundi. So might +she once have gazed in innocence upon a world unknown.</p> + +<p>Again, almost savagely, he strove to thrust away the thoughts that +troubled him. The child was bound to be contaminated sooner or later; +but what was that to him? It was out of his power to deliver her. He was +no rescuer of damsels in distress.</p> + +<p>So he put away from him the thought of Rosa Mundi and the thought of the +child called Rosemary who had come to him out of the morning sunlight, +and went back to his hotel doggedly determined that neither the one nor +the other should disturb his peace of mind. He would take refuge in his +work, and forget them.</p> + +<p>But late that night he awoke from troubled sleep to hear Ellis Grant +laugh again in careless triumph—the laugh of the man who knows that he +has drawn a prize.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was not a restful night for Randal Courteney, and in the early +morning he was out again, striding over the sunlit sands towards his own +particular bathing-cove beyond the breakwater.</p> + +<p>The tide was coming in, and the dashing water filled all the world with +its music. A brisk wind was blowing, and the waves were high.</p> + +<p>It was the sort of sea that Courteney revelled in, and he trusted that, +at that early hour, he would be free from all intrusion. So accustomed +to privacy was he that he had come to regard the place almost as his +own.</p> + +<p>But as he topped the breakwater he came upon a sight that made him draw +back in disgust. A white mackintosh lay under a handful of stones upon +the shingly beach. He surveyed it suspiciously, with the air of a man +who fears that he is about to walk into a trap.</p> + +<p>Then, his eyes travelling seaward, he spied a red cap bobbing up and +down in the spray of the dancing waves.</p> + +<p>The impulse to turn and retrace his steps came to him, but some unknown +force restrained him. He remembered suddenly the current that had more +than once drawn him out of his course when bathing in those waters, and +the owner of the red cap was alone. He stood, uncertain, on the top of +the breakwater, and watched.</p> + +<p>Two minutes later the very event he had pictured was taking place under +his eyes, and he was racing over the soft sand below the shingle at the +top of his speed. Two arms were beating wildly out in the shining +sparkle of water, as though they strove against the invisible bars of a +cage, and a voice—the high, frightened voice of a child—was calling +for help.</p> + +<p>He flung off his coat as he ran, and dashed without an instant's pause +straight into the green foaming waves. The water swirled around him as +he struck out; he clove his way through it, all his energies +concentrated upon the bobbing red cap and struggling arms ahead of him. +Lifted on the crest of a rushing wave, he saw her, helpless as an infant +in the turmoil. Her terrified eyes were turned his way, wildly +beseeching him. He fought with the water to reach her.</p> + +<p>He realized as he drew nearer that she was not wholly inexperienced. She +was working against the current to keep herself up, but no longer +striving to escape it. He saw with relief that she had not lost her +head.</p> + +<p>He had been prepared to approach her with caution, but she sent him a +sudden, brave smile that reassured him.</p> + +<p>"Be quick!" she gasped. "I'm nearly done."</p> + +<p>The current caught him, but with a powerful stroke or two he righted his +course and reached her. Her hand closed upon his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I'm all right now," she panted, and despite the distress of her +breathing, he caught the note of confidence in her voice.</p> + +<p>"We've got to get out of it," he made grim answer. "Get your hand in my +belt; that'll help you best. Then, when you're ready, strike out with +the other and make for the open sea! We shall get out of this infernal +current that way."</p> + +<p>She obeyed him implicitly, asking no question. Side by side they drew +out of the current, the man pulling strongly, his companion seconding +his efforts with a fitfulness that testified to her failing powers. They +reached calmer water at length, and then curtly he ordered her to turn +on her back and rest.</p> + +<p>Again without a word she obeyed him, and he floated beside her, +supporting her. The early sun smote down upon them with increasing +strength. Her face was deathly pale against the red of her cap.</p> + +<p>"We must get to shore," said Courteney, observing her.</p> + +<p>"That dreadful current!" she gasped through quivering lips.</p> + +<p>"No. We can avoid that. It will mean a scamper over the sands when we +get there, but that will do you good. Stay as you are! I will tow you."</p> + +<p>Had she been less obedient, he would have found his task infinitely +harder. But she was absolutely submissive to his will. Ten minutes later +he landed her close to his own bathing-cove, which he discovered with +relief to be deserted.</p> + +<p>She would have subsided in a heap upon the sand the moment she felt it +warm and dry beneath her feet; but he held her up.</p> + +<p>"No. A good run is what you need. Come! Your mackintosh is half-a-mile +away."</p> + +<p>She looked at him with dismay, but he remained inexorable. He had no +desire to have her fainting on his hands. As if she had been a boy, he +gripped her by the elbow.</p> + +<p>Again she submitted stumblingly to his behest, but when they had covered +half the distance Courteney had mercy.</p> + +<p>"You're fagged out," he said. "Rest here while I go and fetch it!"</p> + +<p>She sank down thankfully on the shingle, and he strode swiftly on.</p> + +<p>When he returned she had hollowed a nest for herself, and was lying +curled up in the sun. Her head was pillowed on her cap, and the soft +golden curls waved tenderly above her white forehead. Once more she +seemed to him a mere child, and he looked down upon her with compassion.</p> + +<p>She sat up at his approach with a boyish, alert movement, and lifted +her eyes to his. He likened them half-unconsciously to the purple-blue +of hare-bells, in the ardent light of the early morning.</p> + +<p>"You are kind!" she said gratefully.</p> + +<p>He placed the white mackintosh around her slim figure. "Take my advice," +he said in his brief fashion, "and don't come bathing alone in this +direction again!"</p> + +<p>She made a small shy gesture of invitation. "Sit down a minute!" she +said half-pleadingly. "I know you are very wet; but the sun is so warm, +and they say sea-water never chills."</p> + +<p>He hesitated momentarily; then, possibly because she had spoken with so +childlike an appeal, he sat down in the shingle beside her.</p> + +<p>She stretched out a slender hand to him, almost as though feeling her +way. And when he took it she made a slight movement towards him, as of +one about to make a confidence. "Now we can talk," she said.</p> + +<p>He let her hand go again, and felt in the pocket of his coat, which he +carried on his arm, for his pipe.</p> + +<p>She drew a little nearer to him. "Mr. Courteney," she said, "doesn't +'Thank you' sound a silly thing to say?"</p> + +<p>He drew back. "Don't! Please don't!" he said, and flushed uneasily as he +opened his tobacco-pouch. "I would infinitely rather you said nothing at +all to any one. Don't do it again, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Mustn't I even tell Rosa Mundi?" she said.</p> + +<p>His flush deepened as he remembered that she would probably know him by +name. She must have known in those far-off Australian days that he was +working with all his might to free young Baron from her toils.</p> + +<p>He sat in silence till, "Will you tell me something?" whispered +Rosemary, leaning nearer.</p> + +<p>He stiffened involuntarily. "I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Please try!" she urged softly. "I feel sure you can. Why—why don't you +like Rosa Mundi?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her, and his eyes were steely; but they softened by +imperceptible degrees as they met the earnest sweetness of her answering +look. "No, I can't tell you that," he said with decision.</p> + +<p>But her look held him. "Is it because you don't think she is very good?"</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you," he said again.</p> + +<p>Still she looked at him, and again there seemed to be in her eyes that +expression of a child who has seen life without understanding it. +"Perhaps you think I am too young to know good from evil," she said +after a moment. "I am not. I have told you I am older than I look, and +in some things I am older even than my years. Then, too, I belong to +Rosa Mundi. I told you, didn't I? I am her familiar spirit. She has even +called me her angel, or her better self. I know a great many things +about her, and some of them are very sad. May I tell you some of the +things I know?"</p> + +<p>He turned his eyes away from her abruptly, with the feeling that he was +resisting some curious magnetism. What was there about this child that +attracted him? He was not a lover of children. Moreover, she was verging +upon womanhood approaching what he grimly termed "the dangerous age."</p> + +<p>He filled his pipe deliberately while she waited for his answer, turning +his gaze upon the dazzling line of the horizon.</p> + +<p>"You can do as you like," he said at last, and added formally, "May I +smoke?"</p> + +<p>She nodded. "Yes, I would like you to. It will keep you from being +bored. I want to tell you about Rosa Mundi, because you do not judge her +fairly. You only know her by repute, and I—I know her heart to heart."</p> + +<p>Her voice deepened suddenly, and the man glanced downwards for an +instant, but immediately looked away again. She should tell him what she +would, but by no faintest sign should she imagine that she had succeeded +in arousing his interest. The magnetism was drawing him. He was aware of +the attraction, and with firmness he resisted it. Let her strive as she +would, she would never persuade him to think kindly of Rosa Mundi.</p> + +<p>"You think her—bad," said Rosemary, her voice pitched very low. "I +know—oh, I know. Men—some men—are very hard on women like her, women +who have had to hew their own way in the world, and meet temptation +almost before"—her voice quivered a little—"they knew what temptation +meant."</p> + +<p>He looked down at her again suddenly and searchingly; but her clear eyes +never flinched from his. They were pleading and a little troubled, but +wholly unafraid.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you won't believe me," she said. "You'll think you know best. +But Rosa Mundi wasn't bad always—not at the beginning. Her dancing +began when she was young—oh, younger than I am. It was a dreadful +uphill fight. She had a mother then—a mother she adored. Did you ever +have a mother like that, I wonder? Perhaps it isn't the same with men, +but there are some women who would gladly die for their mothers. +And—and Rosa Mundi felt like that. A time came when her mother was +dying of a slow disease, and she needed things—many things. Rosa Mundi +wasn't a success then. She hadn't had her chance. But there was a man—a +man with money and influence—who was willing to offer it to +her—at—at—a price. She was dancing for chance coppers outside a San +Francisco saloon when first he made his offer. She—refused."</p> + +<p>Rosemary's soft eyes were suddenly lowered. She did not look like a +child any longer, but a being sexless, yet very pitiful—an angel about +to weep.</p> + +<p>Courteney watched her, for he could not turn away.</p> + +<p>Almost under her breath, she went on: "A few days later her mother began +to suffer—oh, terribly. There was no money, no one to help. She went +again and danced at the saloon entrance. He—the man—was there. She +danced till she was tired out. And then—and then—she was hungry, +too—she fainted." The low voice sank a little lower. "When she came to +herself, she was in his keeping. He was very kind to her—too kind. Her +strength was gone, and—and temptation is harder to resist when one is +physically weak too. When she went back to her mother she had +accepted—his—offer. From that night her fortune was made."</p> + +<p>Two tears gathered on the dark lashes and hung there till she put up a +quick hand and brushed them away.</p> + +<p>The man's face was curiously softened; he looked as if he desired to dry +those tears himself.</p> + +<p>Without looking up she continued. "The mother died—very, very soon. +Life is like that. Often one pays—in vain. There is no bargaining with +death. But at least she never knew. That was Rosa Mundi's only comfort. +There was no turning back for her then. And she was so desolate, so +lonely, nothing seemed to matter.</p> + +<p>"She went from triumph to triumph. She carried all before her. He took +her to New York, and she conquered there. They strewed her path with +roses. They almost worshipped her. She tried to think she was happy, but +she was not—even then. They came around her in crowds. They made love +to her. She was young, and their homage was like a coloured ball to +her. She tossed it to and fro, and played with it. But she made game of +it all. They were nothing to her—nothing, till one day there came to +her a boy—no, he was past his boyhood—a young man—rich, well-born, +and honourable. And he—he loved her, and offered her—marriage. No one +had ever offered her that before. Can you realize—but no, you are a +man!—what it meant to her? It meant shelter and peace and freedom. It +meant honour and kindness, and the chance to be good. Perhaps you think +she would not care for that. But you do not know her. Rosa Mundi was +meant to be good. She hungered for goodness. She was tired—so tired of +the gaudy vanities of life, so—so—what is the word—so nauseated with +the cheap and the bad. Are you sorry for her, I wonder? Can you picture +her, longing—oh, longing—for what she calls respectability? And +then—this chance, this offer of deliverance! It meant giving up her +career, of course. It meant changing her whole life. It meant +sacrifice—the sort of sacrifice that you ought to be able to +understand—for she loved her dancing and her triumphs, just as you love +your public—the people who read your books and love you for their sake. +That is different, isn't it, from the people who follow you about and +want to stare at you just because you are prosperous and popular? The +people who really appreciate your art—those are the people you would +not disappoint for all the world. They make up a vast friendship that +is very precious, and it would be a sacrifice—a big—sacrifice—to give +it up. That is the sort of sacrifice that marriage meant to Rosa Mundi. +And though she wanted marriage—and she wanted to be good—she +hesitated."</p> + +<p>There was a little pause. Randal Courteney was no longer dissembling his +interest. He had laid his pipe aside, and was watching with unvarying +intentness the downcast childish face. He asked no questions. There was +something in the low-spoken words that held him silent. Perhaps he +feared to probe too deep.</p> + +<p>In a few moments she went on, gathering up a little handful of the +shining shingle, and slowly sifting it through her fingers as though in +search of something precious.</p> + +<p>"I think if she had really loved the man, it wouldn't have mattered. +Nothing counts like love, does it? But—you see—she didn't. She wanted +to. She knew that he was clean and honourable, worthy of a good woman. +He loved her, too, loved her so that he was willing to put away all her +past. For she did not deceive him about that. He was willing to give her +all—all she wanted. But she did not love him. She honoured him, and she +felt for a time at least that love might come. He guessed that, and he +did his best—all that he could think of—to get her to consent. In the +end—in the end"—Rosemary paused, a tiny stone in her hand that shone +like polished crystal—"she was very near to the verge of yielding, the +young man had almost won, when—when something happened that +altered—everything. The young man had a friend, a writer, a great man +even then; he is greater now. The friend came, and he threw his whole +weight into the scale against her. She felt him—the force of +him—before she so much as saw him. She had broken with her lover some +time before. She was free. And she determined to marry the young man who +loved her—in spite of his friend. That very day it happened. The young +man sent her a book written by his friend. She had begun to hate the +writer, but out of curiosity she opened it and read. First a bit here, +then a bit there, and at last she sat down and read it—all through."</p> + +<p>The little shining crystal lay alone in the soft pink palm. Rosemary +dwelt upon it, faintly smiling.</p> + +<p>"She read far into the night," she said, speaking almost dreamily, as if +recounting a vision conjured up in the glittering surface of the stone. +"It was a free night for her. And she read on and on and on. The book +gripped her; it fascinated her. It was—a great book. It was +called—<i>Remembrance</i>." She drew a quick breath and went on somewhat +hurriedly. "It moved her in a fashion that perhaps you would hardly +realize. I have read it, and I—understand. The writing was wonderful. +It brought home to her—vividly, oh, vividly—how the past may be atoned +for, but never, never effaced. It hurt her—oh, it hurt her. But it did +her good. It showed her how she was on the verge of taking a wrong +turning, of perhaps—no, almost certainly—dragging down the man who +loved her. She saw suddenly the wickedness of marrying him just to +escape her own prison. She understood clearly that only love could have +justified her—no other motive than that. She saw the evil of fastening +her past to an honourable man whose good name and family demanded of him +something better. She felt as if the writer had torn aside a veil and +shown her her naked soul. And—and—though the book was a good book, and +did not condemn sinners—she was shocked, she was horrified, at what it +made her see."</p> + +<p>Rosemary suddenly closed her hand upon the shining stone, and turned +fully and resolutely to the man beside her.</p> + +<p>"That night changed Rosa Mundi," she said; "changed her completely. +Before it was over she wrote to the young man who loved her and told him +that she could not marry him. The letter did not go till the following +evening. She kept it back for a few hours—in case she repented. +But—though she suffered—she did not repent. In the evening she had an +engagement to dance. The young man was there—in the front row. And he +brought his friend. She danced. Her dancing was superb that night. She +had a passionate desire to bewitch the man who had waked her soul—as +she had bewitched so many others. She had never met a man she could not +conquer. She was determined to conquer him. Was it wrong? Anyway, it was +human. She danced till her very heart was on fire, danced till she trod +the clouds. Her audience went mad with the delight of it. They raved as +if they were intoxicated. All but one man! All but one man! And he—at +the end—he looked her just once in the eyes, stonily, piercingly, and +went away." She uttered a sharp, choking breath. "I have nearly done," +she said. "Can you guess what happened then? Perhaps you know. The man +who loved her received her letter when he got back that night. +And—and—she had bewitched him, remember; he—shot himself. The +friend—the writer—she never saw again. But—but—Rosa Mundi has never +forgotten him. She carries him in her heart—the man who taught her the +meaning of life."</p> + +<p>She ceased to speak, and suddenly, like a boy, sprang to her feet, +tossing away the stone that she had treasured in her hand.</p> + +<p>But the man was almost as quick as she. He caught her by the shoulder as +he rose. "Wait!" he said. "Wait!" His voice rang hard, but there was no +hardness in his eyes. "Tell me—who you are!"</p> + +<p>She lifted her eyes to his fearlessly, without shame. "What does it +matter who I am?" she said. "What does it matter? I have told you I am +Rosemary. That is her name for me, and it was your book called +<i>Remembrance</i> that made her give it me."</p> + +<p>He held her still, looking at her with a growing compassion in his +eyes. "You are her child," he said.</p> + +<p>She smiled. "Perhaps—spiritually. Yes, I think I am her child, such a +child as she might have been if—Fate—had been kind to her—- or if she +had read your book before—and not after."</p> + +<p>He let her go slowly, almost with reluctance. "I think I should like to +meet your—Rosa Mundi," he said.</p> + +<p>Her eyes suddenly shone. "Not really? You are in earnest? But—but—- +you would hurt her. You despise her."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for her," he said, and there was a hint of doggedness in his +voice, as though he spoke against his better judgment.</p> + +<p>The child's face had an eager look, but she seemed to be restraining +herself. "I ought to tell you one thing about her first," she said. +"Perhaps you will disapprove. I don't know. But it is because of +you—and your revelation—that she is doing it. Rosa Mundi is going to +be married. No, she is not giving up her career or anything—except her +freedom. Her old lover has come back to her. She is going to marry him +now. He wants her for his wife."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" It was the man who was eager now. He spoke impulsively. "She will +be happy then? She loves him?"</p> + +<p>Rosemary looked at him with her clear, unfaltering eyes. "Oh, no," she +said. "He isn't that sort of man at all. Besides, there is only one man +in the world that she could care for in that way. No, she doesn't love +him. But she is doing the right thing, and she is going to be good. You +will not despise her any more?"</p> + +<p>There was such anxious appeal in her eyes that he could not meet it. He +turned his own away.</p> + +<p>There fell a silence between them, and through it the long, long roar of +the sea rose up—a mighty symphony of broken chords.</p> + +<p>The man moved at last, looked down at the slight boyish figure beside +him, hesitated, finally spoke. "I still think that I should like to meet +Rosa Mundi," he said.</p> + +<p>Her eyes smiled again. "And you will not despise her now," she said, her +tone no longer a question.</p> + +<p>"I think," said Randal Courteney slowly, "that I shall never despise any +one again."</p> + +<p>"Life is so difficult," said Rosemary, with the air of one who knew.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>They were strewing the Pier with roses for Rosa Mundi's night. There +were garlands of roses, festoons of roses, bouquets of roses; roses +overhead, roses under foot, everywhere roses.</p> + +<p>Summer had returned triumphant to deck the favourite's path.</p> + +<p>Randal Courteney marked it all gravely, without contempt. It was her +hour.</p> + +<p>No word from her had reached him, but that night he would meet her face +to face. Through days and nights of troubled thought, the resolve had +grown within him. To-night it should bear fruit. He would not rest again +until he had seen her. For his peace of mind was gone. She was about to +throw herself away upon a man she did not love, and he felt that it was +laid upon him to stop the sacrifice. The burden of responsibility was +his. He had striven against this conviction, but it would not be denied. +From the days of young Eric Baron's tragedy onward, this woman had made +him as it were the star of her destiny. To repudiate the fact was +useless. She had, in her ungoverned, impulsive fashion, made him surety +for her soul.</p> + +<p>The thought tormented him, but it held a strange attraction for him +also. If the story were true, and it was not in him to doubt it, it +touched him in a way that was wholly unusual. Popularity, adulation, had +been his portion for years. But this was different, this was personal—a +matter in which reputation, fame, had no part. In a different sphere she +also was a star, with a host of worshippers even greater than his own. +The humility of her amazed him. She had, as it were, taken her fate +between her hands and laid it as an offering at his feet.</p> + +<p>And so, on Rosa Mundi's night, he went to the great Pavilion, mingling +with the crowd, determined when her triumph was over, to seek her out. +There would be a good many seekers, he doubted not; but he was convinced +that she would not deny him an interview.</p> + +<p>He secured a seat in the third row, avoiding almost by instinct any more +conspicuous position. He was early, and while he waited, the thought of +young Eric Baron came to him—the boy's eager-face, the adoration of his +eyes. He remembered how on that far-off night he had realized the +hopelessness of combating his love, how he had shrugged his shoulders +and relinquished the struggle. And the battle had been his even then—a +bitter victory more disastrous than defeat.</p> + +<p>He put the memory from him and thought of Rosemary—the child with the +morning light in her eyes, the innocence of the morning in her soul. How +tenderly she had spoken of Rosa Mundi! How sweetly she had pleaded her +cause! With what amazing intuition had she understood! Something that +was greater than pity welled up within him. Rosa Mundi's guardian angel +had somehow reached his heart.</p> + +<p>People were pouring into the place. He saw that it was going to be +packed. And outside, lining the whole length of the Pier, they were +waiting for her too, waiting to strew her path with, roses.</p> + +<p>Ah! she was coming! Above the wash of the sea there rose a roar of +voices. They were giving her the homage of a queen. He listened to the +frantic cheering, and again it was Rosa Mundi, splendid and brilliant, +who filled his thoughts as she filled the thoughts of all just then.</p> + +<p>The cheering died down, and there came a great press of people into the +back of the building. The lights were lowered, but he heard the +movement, the buzz of a delighted crowd.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the orchestra burst into loud music. They were playing "Queen +of the Earth," he remembered later. The curtain went up. And in a blaze +of light he saw Rosa Mundi.</p> + +<p>Something within him sprang into quivering life. Something which till +that moment he had never known awoke and gripped him with a force +gigantic. She was robed in shimmering, transparent gold—a queen-woman, +slight indeed, dainty, fairy-like—yet magnificent. Over her head, +caught in a jewelled fillet, there hung a filmy veil of gold, half +revealing, half concealing, the smiling face behind. Trailing wisps of +golden gossamer hung from her beautiful arms. Her feet were bound with +golden sandals. And on her breast were roses—golden roses.</p> + +<p>She was exquisite as a dream. He gazed and gazed upon her as one +entranced. The tumult of acclamation that greeted her swept by him +unheeded. He was conscious only of a passionate desire to fling back the +golden veil that covered her and see the laughing face behind. Its +elusiveness mocked him. She was like a sunbeam standing there, a +flitting, quivering shaft of light, too spiritual to be grasped fully, +almost too dazzling for the eye to follow.</p> + +<p>The applause died down to a dead silence. Her audience watched her with +bated breath. Her dance was a thing indescribable. Courteney could think +of nothing but the flashing of morning sunlight upon running water to +the silver strains of a flute that was surely piped by Pan. He could not +follow the sparkling wonder of her. He felt dazed and strangely +exhilarated, almost on fire with this new, fierce attraction. It was as +if the very soul were being drawn out of his body. She called to him, +she lured him, she bewitched him.</p> + +<p>When he had seen her before, he had been utterly out of sympathy. He had +scorned her charms, had felt an almost angry contempt for young Baron's +raptures. To him she had been a snake-woman, possessed of a fascination +which, to him, was monstrous and wholly incomprehensible. She had worn a +strange striped dress of green—tight-fitting, hideous he had deemed it. +Her face had been painted. He had been too near the stage, and she had +revolted him. Her dance had certainly been wonderful, sinuous, gliding, +suggestive—a perfectly conceived scheme of evil. And she had thought to +entrap him with it! The very memory was repulsive even yet.</p> + +<p>But this—ah! this was different. This thing of light and air, this +dancing sunbeam, this creature of the morning, exquisite in every +detail, perfectly poised, swifter than thought, yet arresting at every +turn, vivid as a meteor, yet beyond all scrutiny, all ocular power of +comprehension, she set every nerve in him a-quiver. She seized upon his +fancy and flung it to and fro, catching a million colours in her radiant +flights. She made the hot blood throb in his temples. She beat upon the +door of his heart. She called back his vanished youth, the passion +unassuaged of his manhood. She appealed to him directly and personally. +She made him realize that he was the one man who had taught—and could +teach—her the meaning of life.</p> + +<p>Then it was over. Like a glittering crystal shattered to fragments, his +dream of ecstasy collapsed. The noise around him was as the roar of +thundering breakers. But he sat mute in the midst of it, as one stunned.</p> + +<p>Someone leaned over from behind and spoke to him. He was aware of a hand +upon his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of her?" said Ellis Grant in his ear. "Superb, isn't +she? Come and see her before she appears again!"</p> + +<p>As if compelled by some power outside himself, Courteney rose. He edged +his way to the end of the row and joined the great man there. The whole +house was a seething turmoil of sound.</p> + +<p>Grant was chuckling to himself as one well pleased. In Courteney's eyes +he looked stouter, more prosperous, more keenly business-like, than when +he had spoken with him a few nights previously. He took Courteney by the +arm and led him through a door at the side.</p> + +<p>"Let 'em yell 'emselves hoarse for a bit!" he said. "Do 'em good. Guess +my 'rose of the world' isn't going to be too cheap a commodity.... Which +reminds me, sir. You've cost me a thousand English pounds by coming here +to-night."</p> + +<p>"Indeed?" Courteney spoke stiffly. He felt stiff, physically stiff, as +one forcibly awakened from a deep slumber.</p> + +<p>The man beside him was still chuckling. "Yes. The little witch! Said +she'd manage it somehow when I told her you weren't taking any. We had a +thousand on it, and the little devil has won, outwitted us both. How in +thunder did she do it? Laid a trap for you; what?"</p> + +<p>Courteney did not answer. The stiffness was spreading. He felt as one +turned to stone. Mechanically he yielded to the hand upon his arm, not +speaking, scarcely thinking.</p> + +<p>And then—almost before he knew it—he was in her presence, face to face +with the golden vision that had caught and—for a space at least—had +held his heart.</p> + +<p>He bowed, still silent, still strangely bound and fettered by the +compelling force.</p> + +<p>A hand that was lithe and slender and oddly boyish came out to him. A +voice that had in it sweet, lilting notes, like the voice of a laughing +child, spoke his name.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Courteney! How kind!" it said.</p> + +<p>As from a distance he heard Grant speak. "Mr. Courteney, allow me to +introduce you—my wife!"</p> + +<p>There was a dainty movement like the flash of shimmering wings. He +looked up. She had thrown back her veil.</p> + +<p>He gazed upon her. "Rosemary!"</p> + +<p>She looked back at him above the roses with eyes that were deeply +purple—as the depths of the sea. "Yes, I am Rosemary—to my friends," +she said.</p> + +<p>Ellis Grant was laughing still, in his massive, contented way. "But to +her lover," he said, "she is—and always has been—Rosa Mundi."</p> + +<p>Then speech came back to Courteney, and strength returned. He held +himself in firm restraint. He had been stricken, but he did not flinch.</p> + +<p>"Your husband?" he said.</p> + +<p>She indicated Grant with a careless hand. "Since yesterday," she said.</p> + +<p>He bowed to her again, severely formal. "May I wish you joy?" he said.</p> + +<p>There was an instant's pause, and in that instant something happened. +She had not moved. Her eyes still met his own, but it was as if a veil +had dropped between them suddenly. He saw the purple depths no more.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Rosa Mundi, with her little girlish laugh.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As he strode down the Pier a few minutes later, he likened the scent +of the crushed roses that strewed the way to the fumes of +sacrifice—sacrifice offered at the feet of a goddess who cared for +nothing sacred. Not till long after did he remember the tears that he +had seen her shed.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='A_Debt_of_Honour'></a><h2>A Debt of Honour</h2> + +<h2>I</h2> + +<h2>HOPE AND THE MAGICIAN</h2> +<br /> + +<p>They lived in the rotten white bungalow at the end of the valley—Hope +and the Magician. It stood in a neglected compound that had once been a +paradise, when a certain young officer belonging to the regiment of +Sikhs then stationed in Ghantala had taken it and made of it a dainty +home for his English bride. Those were the days before the flood, and no +one had lived there since. The native men in the valley still remembered +with horror that awful night when the monsoon had burst in floods and +water-spouts upon the mountains, and the bride, too terrified to remain +in the bungalow, had set out in the worst fury of the storm to find her +husband, who was on duty up at the cantonments. She had been drowned +close to the bungalow in a ranging brown torrent which swept over what a +few hours earlier had been a mere bed of glittering sand. And from that +time the bungalow had been deserted, avoided of all men, a haunted +place, the abode of evil spirits.</p> + +<p>Yet it still stood in its desolation, rotting year by year. No native +would approach the place. No Englishman desired it. For it was well away +from the cantonments, nearer than any other European dwelling to the +native village, and undeniably in the hottest corner of all the Ghantala +Valley.</p> + +<p>Perhaps its general air of desolation had also influenced the minds of +possible tenants, for Ghantala was a cheerful station, and its +inhabitants preferred cheerful dwelling-places. Whatever the cause, it +had stood empty and forsaken for more than a dozen years.</p> + +<p>And then had come Hope and the Magician.</p> + +<p>Hope was a dark-haired, bright-eyed English girl, who loved riding as +she loved nothing else on earth. Her twin-brother, Ronald Carteret, was +the youngest subaltern in his battalion, and for his sake, she had +persuaded the Magician that the Ghantala Valley was an ideal spot to +live in.</p> + +<p>The Magician was their uncle and sole relative, an old man, wizened and +dried up like a monkey, to whom India was a land of perpetual delight +and novelty of which he could never tire. He was engaged upon a book of +Indian mythology, and he was often away from home for the purpose of +research. But his absence made very little difference to Hope. Her +brother lived in the bungalow with her, and the people in the station +were very kind to her.</p> + +<p>The natives, though still wary, had lost their abhorrence of the place. +They believed that the Magician, as they called him, had woven a spell +to keep the evil spirits at a distance. It was known that he was in +constant communication with native priests. Moreover, the miss-<i>sahib</i> +who dwelt at the bungalow remained unharmed, so it seemed there was +nought to fear.</p> + +<p>Hope, after a very few months, cut off her hair and wore it short and +curly. This also seemed to discourage the evil ones. So at length it +appeared that the curse had been removed, or at least placed in +abeyance.</p> + +<p>As for Hope, she liked the place. Her nerves were generally good, and +the joy of being near the brother she idolized outweighed every other +consideration. The colonel's wife, Mrs. Latimer, was very kind to her +from the outset, and she enjoyed all the Ghantala gaieties under her +protection and patronage.</p> + +<p>Not till Mrs. Latimer was taken ill and had to leave hurriedly for the +Hills did it dawn upon Hope, after nearly eight happy months, that her +position was one of considerable isolation, and that this might, under +certain circumstances, become a matter for regret.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_II'></a><h2>II</h2> + +<h2>THE VISITOR</h2> + +<p>It was on a Sunday evening of breathless heat that this conviction first +took firm hold of Hope. Her uncle was away upon one of his frequent +journeys of research. Her brother was up at the cantonments, and she was +quite alone save for her <i>ayah</i>, and the <i>punkah-coolie</i> dozing on the +veranda.</p> + +<p>She had not expected any visitors. Visitors seldom came to the bungalow, +for the simple reason that she was seldom at home to receive them, and +the Magician never considered himself at liberty for social obligations. +So it was with some surprise that she heard footsteps that were not her +brother's upon the baked earth of the compound; and when her <i>ayah</i> came +to her with the news that Hyde <i>Sahib</i> was without, she was even +conscious of a sensation of dismay.</p> + +<p>For Hyde <i>Sahib</i> was a man she detested, without knowing why. He was a +civil servant, an engineer, and he had been in Ghantala longer than any +one else of the European population. Very reluctantly she gave the order +to admit him, hoping that Ronnie would soon return and take him off her +hands. For Ronnie professed to like the man.</p> + +<p>He greeted her with a cool self-assurance that admitted not the smallest +doubt of his welcome.</p> + +<p>"I was passing, and thought I would drop in," he told her, retaining her +hand till she abruptly removed it. "I guessed you would be all forlorn. +The Magician is away, I hear?"</p> + +<p>Hope steadily returned the gaze of his pale eyes, as she replied, with +dignity:</p> + +<p>"Yes; my uncle is from home. But I am not at all lonely. I am expecting +my brother every minute."</p> + +<p>He smiled at her in a way that made her stiffen instinctively. She had +never been so completely alone with him before.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well," he said, "perhaps you will allow me to amuse you till he +returns. I rather want to see him."</p> + +<p>He took her permission for granted, and sat down in a bamboo chair on +the veranda, leaning back, and staring up at her with easy insolence.</p> + +<p>"I can scarcely believe that you are not lonely here," he remarked. "A +figure of speech, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>Hope felt the colour rising in her cheeks under his direct and +unpleasant scrutiny.</p> + +<p>"I have never felt lonely till to-day," she returned, with spirit.</p> + +<p>He laughed incredulously. "No?" he said.</p> + +<p>"No," said Hope with emphasis. "I often think that there are worse +things in the world than solitude."</p> + +<p>Something in her tone—its instinctive enmity, its absolute +honesty—attracted his attention. He sat up and regarded her very +closely.</p> + +<p>She was still on her feet—a slender, upright figure in white. She was +grasping the back of a chair rather tightly, but she did not shrink from +his look, though there was that within her which revolted fiercely as +she met it. But he prolonged the silent combat with brutal intention, +till at last, in spite of herself, her eyes sank, and she made a slight, +unconscious gesture of protest. Then, deliberately and insultingly, he +laughed.</p> + +<p>"Come now, Miss Carteret," he said, "I'm sure you can't mean to be +unfriendly with me. I believe this place gets on your nerves. You're not +looking well, you know."</p> + +<p>"No?" she responded, with frozen dignity.</p> + +<p>"Not so well as I should like to see you," said Hyde, still smiling his +objectionable smile. "I believe you're moped. Isn't that it? I know the +symptoms, and I know an excellent remedy, too. Wouldn't you like to try +it?"</p> + +<p>Hope looked at him uncertainly. She was quivering all over with nervous +apprehension. His manner frightened her. She was not sure that the man +was absolutely sober. But it would be absurd, ridiculous, she told her +thumping heart, to take offence, when it might very well be that the +insult existed in her imagination alone. So, with a desperate courage, +she stood her ground.</p> + +<p>"I really don't know what you mean," she said coldly. "But it doesn't +matter; tell me about your racer instead!"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," returned Hyde. "It's one thing at a time with me +always. Besides, why should I bore you to that extent? Why, I'm boring +you already. Isn't that so?"</p> + +<p>He set his hands on the arms of his chair preparatory to rising, as he +spoke; and Hope took a quick step away from him. There was a look in his +eyes that was horrible to her.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, rather breathlessly. "No; I'm not at all bored. Please +don't get up; I'll go and order some refreshment."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" he said sharply. "I don't want it. I won't have any! I +mean"—his manner softening abruptly—-"not unless you will join me; +which, I fear, is too much to expect. Now don't go away! Come and sit +here!" drawing close to his own the chair on which she had been leaning. +"I want to tell you something. Don't look so scared! It's something +you'll like; it is, really. And you're bound to hear it sooner or later, +so it may as well be now. Why not?"</p> + +<p>But Hope's nerves were stretched to snapping point, and she shrank +visibly. After all, she was very young, and there was that about this +man that terrified her.</p> + +<p>"No," she said hurriedly. "No; I would rather not. There is nothing you +could tell me that I should like to hear. I—I am going to the gate to +look for Ronnie."</p> + +<p>It was childish, it was pitiable; and had the man been other than a +coward it must have moved him to compassion. As it was he sprang up +suddenly, as though to detain her, and Hope's last shred of self-control +deserted her.</p> + +<p>She uttered a smothered cry and fled.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_III'></a><h2>III</h2> + +<h2>THE FRIEND IN NEED</h2> + +<p>The road that led to the cantonments was ill-made and stony, but she +dashed along it like a mad creature, unconscious of everything save the +one absorbing desire to escape. Ronnie was not in sight, but she +scarcely thought of him. The light was failing fast, and she knew that +it would soon be quite dark, save for a white streak of moon overhead. +It was still frightfully hot. The atmosphere oppressed her like a leaden +weight. It seemed to keep her back, and she battled with it as with +something tangible. Her feet were clad in thin slippers, and at any +other time she would have known that the rough stones cut and hurt her. +But in the terror of the moment she felt no pain. She only had the sense +to run straight on, with gasping breath and failing limbs, till at last, +quite suddenly, her strength gave out and she sank, an exhausted, +sobbing heap, upon the roadway.</p> + +<p>There came the tread of a horse's hoofs, and she started and made a +convulsive effort to crawl to one side. She was nearer fainting than she +had ever been in her life.</p> + +<p>Then the hoof-beats stopped, and she uttered a gasping cry, all her +nameless terror for the moment renewed.</p> + +<p>A man jumped to the ground and, with a word to his animal, stooped over +her. She shrank from him in unreasoning panic.</p> + +<p>"Who is it? Who is it?" she sobbed. He answered her instantly, rather +curtly.</p> + +<p>"I—Baring. What's the matter? Something gone wrong?"</p> + +<p>She felt strong hands lifting her, and she yielded herself to them, her +panic quenched.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Major Baring!" she said faintly. "I didn't know you!"</p> + +<p>Major Baring made no response. He held her on her feet facing him, for +she seemed unable to stand, and waited for her to recover herself. She +trembled violently between his hands, but she made a resolute effort +after self-control.</p> + +<p>"I—I didn't know you," she faltered again.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" asked Major Baring.</p> + +<p>But she could not tell him. Already the suspicion that she had behaved +unreasonably was beginning to take possession of her. Yet—yet—Hyde +must have seen she was alarmed. He might have reassured her. She +recalled the look in his eyes, and shuddered. She was sure he had been +drinking. She had heard someone say that he did drink.</p> + +<p>"I—I have had a fright," she said at last. "It was very foolish of me, +of course. Very likely it was a false alarm. Anyhow, I am better now. +Thank you."</p> + +<p>He let her go, but she was still so shaken that she tottered and +clutched his arm.</p> + +<p>"Really I am all right," she assured him tremulously. "It is +only—only—"</p> + +<p>He put his arm around her without comment; and again she yielded as a +child might have yielded to the comfort of his support.</p> + +<p>After some seconds he spoke, and she fancied his voice sounded rather +grim.</p> + +<p>"I am going your way," he said. "I will walk back with you."</p> + +<p>Hope was crying to herself in the darkness, but she hoped he did not +notice.</p> + +<p>"I think I shall go and meet Ronnie," she said. "I don't want to go +back. It—it's so lonely."</p> + +<p>"I will come in with you," he returned.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" she said quickly. "No! I mean—I mean—I don't want you to +trouble any more about me. Indeed, I shall be all right."</p> + +<p>He received the assurance in silence; and she began to wonder dolefully +if she had offended him. Then, with abrupt kindliness, he set her mind +at rest.</p> + +<p>"Dry your eyes," he said, "and leave off crying, like a good child! +Ronnie's at the club, and won't be home at present. I didn't know you +were all alone, or I would have brought him along with me. That's +better. Now, shall we make a move?"</p> + +<p>He slung his horse's bridle on his arm and, still supporting her with +the other, began to walk down the stony road. Hope made no further +protest. She had always considered Ronnie's major a rather formidable +person. She knew that Ronnie stood in awe of him, though she had always +found him kind.</p> + +<p>They had not gone five yards when he stopped.</p> + +<p>"You are limping. What is it?"</p> + +<p>She murmured something about the stones.</p> + +<p>"You had better ride," he decided briefly. "Rupert will carry you like a +lamb. Ready? How's that?"</p> + +<p>He lifted her up into the saddle as if she had been a child, and stooped +to arrange her foot in the strap of the stirrup.</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" she heard him murmur, as he touched her shoe. "No wonder +the stones seemed hard! Quite comfortable?" he asked her, as he +straightened himself.</p> + +<p>"Quite," she answered meekly.</p> + +<p>And he marched on, leading the horse with care.</p> + +<p>At the gate of the shadowy little compound that surrounded the bungalow +she had quitted so precipitately he paused.</p> + +<p>"I will leave the animal here," he said, holding up his hands to her.</p> + +<p>She slipped into them submissively.</p> + +<p>The cry of a jackal somewhere beyond the native village made her start +and tremble. Her nerves were still on edge.</p> + +<p>Major Baring slipped the bridle over the gate-post and took her hand in +his. The grip of his fingers was very strong and reassuring.</p> + +<p>"Come," he said kindly, "let us go and look for this bogey of yours!"</p> + +<p>But at this point Hope realized fully that she had made herself +ridiculous, and that for the sake of her future self-respect she must by +some means restrain him from putting his purpose into execution. She +stood still and faced him.</p> + +<p>"Major Baring," she said, her voice quivering in spite of her utmost +effort, "I want you—please—not to come any farther. I know I have been +very foolish. I am sure of it now. And—please—do you mind going away, +and not thinking any more about it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," said Major Baring.</p> + +<p>He spoke with unmistakable decision, and the girl's heart sank.</p> + +<p>"Listen!" he said quietly. "Like you, I think you have probably been +unnecessarily alarmed. But, even so, I am coming with you to satisfy +myself. Or—if you prefer—I will go alone, and you can wait for me +here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said Hope quickly. "If—if you must go, I'll come, too. But +first, will you promise—whatever happens—not to—to laugh at me?"</p> + +<p>Baring made an abrupt movement that she was at a loss to interpret. It +was too dark for her to see his face with any distinctness.</p> + +<p>"Very well," he said. "Yes; I promise that."</p> + +<p>Hope was still almost crying. She felt horribly ashamed. With her hand +in his, she went beside him up the short drive to the bungalow. And, as +she went, she vehemently wished that the earth would open and swallow +her up.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_IV'></a><h2>IV</h2> + +<h2>HER NATURAL PROTECTOR</h2> +<br /> + +<p>They ascended to the veranda still hand-in-hand. It was deserted.</p> + +<p>Baring led her straight along it till he came to the two chairs outside +the drawing-room window. They were empty. A servant had just lighted a +lamp in the room behind them.</p> + +<p>"Go in!" said Baring. "I will come back to you."</p> + +<p>She obeyed him. She felt incapable of resistance just then. He passed on +quietly, and she stood inside the room, waiting and listening with +hushed breath and hands tightly clenched.</p> + +<p>The seconds crawled by, and again there came to her straining ears the +cry of a jackal from far away. Then at last she caught the sound of +Baring's voice, curt and peremptory, and her heart stood still. But he +was only speaking to the <i>punkah-coolie</i> round the corner, for almost +instantly the great fan above her head began to move.</p> + +<p>A few seconds more, and he reappeared at the window alone. Hope drew a +great breath of relief and awoke to the fact that she was trembling +violently.</p> + +<p>She looked at him as he came quietly in. His lean, bronzed face, with +the purple scar of a sword-cut down one cheek, told her nothing. Only +she fancied that his mouth, under its narrow, black line of moustache, +looked stern.</p> + +<p>He went straight up to her and laid his hand on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what frightened you!" he said, looking down at her with keen +blue eyes that shone piercingly in his dark face.</p> + +<p>She shook her head instantly, unable to meet his look.</p> + +<p>"Please," she said beseechingly, "please don't ask me! I would so much +rather not."</p> + +<p>"I have promised not to laugh at you," he reminded her gravely.</p> + +<p>"I know," she said. "I know. But really, really, I can't. It was so +silly of me to be frightened. I am not generally silly like that. +But—somehow—to-day—"</p> + +<p>Her voice failed her. He took his hand from her shoulder; and she knew +suddenly that, had he chosen, he could have compelled.</p> + +<p>"Don't be distressed!" he said. "Whatever it was, it's gone. Sit down, +won't you?"</p> + +<p>Hope dropped rather limply into a chair. The security of Baring's +protecting presence was infinitely comforting, but her fright and +subsequent exertion had made her feel very weak. Baring went to the +window and stood there for some seconds, with his back to her. She noted +his height and breadth of shoulder with a faint sense of pleasure. She +had always admired this man. Secretly—his habitual kindness to her +notwithstanding—she was also a little afraid of him, but her fear did +not trouble her just then.</p> + +<p>He turned quietly at length and seated himself near the window.</p> + +<p>"How long does your uncle expect to be away?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I never know; he may come back to-morrow, or perhaps not for days."</p> + +<p>Baring's black brows drew together.</p> + +<p>"Where is he?" he asked. She shook her head again.</p> + +<p>He said nothing; but his silence was so condemnatory that she felt +herself called upon to defend the absent one.</p> + +<p>"You see, he came here in the first place because I begged so very hard. +And he has to travel because of his book. I always knew that, so I +really can't complain. Besides, I'm not generally lonely, and hardly +ever nervous. And I have Ronnie."</p> + +<p>"Ronnie!" said Baring; and for the first time he looked contemptuous.</p> + +<p>Hope sighed.</p> + +<p>"It's quite my own fault," she said humbly. "If I hadn't—"</p> + +<p>"Pardon me! It is not your fault," he interrupted grimly. "It is +iniquitous that a girl like you should be left in such a place as this +entirely without protection. Have you a revolver?"</p> + +<p>Hope looked startled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" she said. "If I had, I should never dare to use it, even if I +knew how."</p> + +<p>Baring looked at her, still frowning.</p> + +<p>"I think you are braver than that," he said.</p> + +<p>Hope flushed vividly, and rose.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, a note of defiance in her voice. "I'm a miserable +coward, Major Baring. But no one knows it but you and, perhaps, one +other. So I hope you won't give me away."</p> + +<p>Baring did not smile.</p> + +<p>"Who else knows it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Hope met his eyes steadily. She was evidently resolved to be weak no +longer.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter, does it?" she said.</p> + +<p>He did not answer her; and again she had a feeling that he was offended.</p> + +<p>There was a considerable pause before he spoke again. He seemed to be +revolving something in his mind. Then at last, abruptly, he began to +talk upon ordinary topics, and at once she felt more at her ease with +him. They sat by the window after that for the best part of an hour; +till, in fact, the return of her brother put an end to their +<i>tête-à-tête</i>.</p> + +<p>By those who were least intimate with the Carteret twins it was often +said that in feature they were exactly alike. Those who knew them better +saw no more than a very strong resemblance in form and colouring, but it +went no farther. In expression they differed utterly. The boy's face +lacked the level-browed honesty that was so conspicuous in the girl's. +His mouth was irresolute. His eyes were uncertain. Yet he was a +good-looking boy, notwithstanding these defects. He had a pleasant laugh +and winning manner, and was essentially kind-hearted, if swift to take +offence.</p> + +<p>He came in through the window, walking rather heavily, and halted just +inside the room, blinking, as if the light dazzled him. Baring gave him +a single glance that comprehended him from head to foot, and rose from +his chair.</p> + +<p>Again it seemed to Hope that she saw contempt upon his face; and a rush +of indignation checked the quick words of welcome upon her lips.</p> + +<p>Her brother spoke first, and his words sounded rather slurred, as if he +had been running.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" he said. "Here you are! Don't get up! I expected to find you!"</p> + +<p>He addressed Baring, who replied instantly, and with extreme emphasis:</p> + +<p>"That I am sure you did not."</p> + +<p>Ronnie started, and put his hand to his eyes as if confused.</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon," he said, a moment later, in an odd tone of shame. "I +thought it was Hyde. The light put me off. It—it's Major Baring, isn't +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; Baring." Baring repeated his own name deliberately; and, as by a +single flash of revelation Hope understood the meaning of his contempt.</p> + +<p>She stood as if turned to stone. She had often seen Ronnie curiously +excited, even incoherently so, before that night, but she had never seen +him like this. She had never imagined before for a single instant what +now she abruptly knew without the shadow of a doubt.</p> + +<p>A feeling that was like physical sickness came over her. She looked from +Ronnie to Ronnie's major with a sort of piteous appeal. Baring turned +gravely towards her.</p> + +<p>"You will let me have a word alone with your brother?" he said quietly. +"I was waiting to see him, as you know."</p> + +<p>She felt that he had given her a definite command, and she obeyed it +mutely, almost mechanically. He opened the door for her, and she went +out in utter silence, sick at heart.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_V'></a><h2>V</h2> + +<h2>MORE THAN A FRIEND</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Two days later Hope received an invitation from Mrs. Latimer to join her +at the Hill Station for a few weeks.</p> + +<p>She hesitated, for her brother's sake, to accept it, but he, urged +thereto by some very plain speaking from his major, persuaded her so +strongly that she finally yielded.</p> + +<p>Though she would not have owned it, Hope was, in fact, in sore need of +this change. The heat had told upon her nerves and spirits. She had had +no fever, but she was far from well, as her friend, Mrs. Latimer, +realized as soon as she saw her.</p> + +<p>She at once prescribed complete rest, and the week that followed was to +Hope the laziest and the most peaceful that she had ever known. She was +always happy in Mrs. Latimer's society, and she had no desire just then +for gaiety. The absolute freedom from care acted upon her like a tonic, +and she very quickly began to recover her usual buoyant health.</p> + +<p>The colonel's wife watched her unobserved. She had by her a letter, +written in the plain language of a man who knew no other, and she often +referred to this letter when she was alone; for there seemed to be +something between the lines, notwithstanding its plainness.</p> + +<p>As a result of this suspicion, when Hope rode back in Mrs. Latimer's +<i>rickshaw</i> from an early morning service at the little English church on +the hill, on the second Sunday after her arrival, a big figure, clad in +white linen, rose from a <i>charpoy</i> in Mrs. Latimer's veranda, and +stepped down bareheaded to receive her.</p> + +<p>Hope's face, as she recognized the visitor, flushed so vividly that she +was aware of it, and almost feared to meet his eyes. But he spoke at +once, and thereby set her at her ease.</p> + +<p>"That's much better," he said approvingly, as if he had only parted from +her the day before. "I was afraid you were going on the sick-list, but I +see you have thought better of it. Very wise of you."</p> + +<p>She met his smile with a feeling of glad relief.</p> + +<p>"How is Ronnie?" she said.</p> + +<p>He laughed a little at the hasty question.</p> + +<p>"Ronnie is quite well, and sends his love. He is going to have a five +days' leave next week to come and see you. It would have been this week, +but for me."</p> + +<p>Hope looked up at him enquiringly.</p> + +<p>"You see," he quietly explained, "I was coming myself, and—it will seem +odd to you, of course—I didn't want Ronnie."</p> + +<p>Hope was silent. There was something in his manner that baffled her.</p> + +<p>"Selfish of me, wasn't it?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Hope.</p> + +<p>"It was, I assure you," he returned; "sheer selfishness on my part. Are +we going to breakfast on the veranda? You will have to do the honours, I +know. Mrs. Latimer is still in bed."</p> + +<p>Hope sat down thoughtfully. She had never seen Major Baring in this +light-hearted mood. She would have enjoyed it, but for the thought of +Ronnie.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't he disappointed?" she asked presently.</p> + +<p>"Horribly," said Baring. "He turned quite green when he heard. I don't +think I had better tell you what he said."</p> + +<p>He was watching her quietly across the table, and she knew it. After a +moment she raised her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes; tell me what he said, Major Baring!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Not yet," said Baring. "I am waiting to hear you tell me that you are +even more bitterly disappointed than he was."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how I can tell you that," said Hope, turning her attention +to the coffee-urn.</p> + +<p>"No? Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because it wouldn't be very friendly," she answered gravely.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, I almost dared to fancy it was because it wouldn't be +true?" said Baring.</p> + +<p>She glanced up at that, and their eyes met. Though he was smiling a +little, there was no mistaking the message his held for her. She +coloured again very deeply, and bent her head to hide it.</p> + +<p>He did not keep her waiting. Very quietly, very resolutely, he leaned +towards her across the table, and spoke.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you now what your brother said to me, Hope," he said, his +voice half-quizzical, half-tender. "He's an impertinent young rascal, +but I bore with him for your sake, dear. He said: 'Go in and win, old +fellow, and I'll give you my blessing!' Generous of him, wasn't it? But +the question is, have I won?"</p> + +<p>Yet she could not speak. Only as he stretched out his hands to her, she +laid her own within them without an instant's hesitation, and suffered +them to remain in his close grasp. When he spoke to her again, his voice +was sunk very low.</p> + +<p>"How did I come to propose in this idiotic fashion across the +breakfast-table?" he said. "Never mind, it's done now—or nearly done. +You mustn't tremble, dear. I have been rather sudden, I know. I should +have waited longer; but, under the circumstances, it seemed better to +speak at once. But there is nothing to frighten you. Just look me in the +face and tell me, may I be more than a friend to you? Will you have me +for a husband?" Hope raised her eyes obediently, with a sudden sense of +confidence unutterable. They were full of the quick tears of joy.</p> + +<p>"Of course!" she said instantly. "Of course!" She blushed again +afterwards, when she recalled her prompt, and even rapturous, answer to +his question. But, at the time, it was the most natural and spontaneous +thing in the world. It was not in her at that moment to have answered +him otherwise. And Baring knew it, understanding so perfectly that no +other word was necessary on either side. He only bent his head, and held +her two hands very closely to his lips before he gently let them go. It +was his sole reply to her glad response. Yet she felt as if there was +something solemn in his action; almost as if thereby he registered a +vow.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_VI'></a><h2>VI</h2> + +<h2>HER ENEMY</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Notwithstanding her determination to return to Ghantala after the +breaking of the monsoon. Hope stayed on at the Hill Station with Mrs. +Latimer till the rains were nearly over. She had wished to return, but +her hostess, her <i>fiancé</i>, and her brother were all united in the +resolve to keep her where she was. So insistent were they that they +prevailed at length. It had been a particularly bad season at Ghantala, +and sickness was rife there.</p> + +<p>Baring even went so far as positively to forbid her to return till this +should have abated.</p> + +<p>"You will have to obey me when we are married, you know," he grimly told +her. "So you may as well begin at once."</p> + +<p>And Hope obeyed him. There was something about this man that compelled +her obedience. Her secret fear of him had not wholly disappeared. There +were times when the thought that she might one day incur his displeasure +made her uneasy. His strength awed even while it thrilled her. Behind +his utmost tenderness she felt his mastery.</p> + +<p>And so she yielded, and remained at the Hill Station till Mrs. Latimer +herself returned to Ghantala in October. She and Ronnie had not been +together for nearly six weeks, and the separation seemed to her like as +many months. He was at the station to meet them, and the moment she saw +him she was conscious of a shock. She had never before seen him look so +hollow-eyed and thin.</p> + +<p>He greeted her, however, with a gaiety that, in some degree, reassured +her. He seemed delighted to have her with him again, was full of the +news and gossip of the station, and chattered like a schoolboy +throughout the drive to their bungalow.</p> + +<p>Her uncle came out of his room to welcome her, and then burrowed back +again, and remained invisible for the rest of the evening. But Hope did +not want him. She wanted no one but Ronnie just then.</p> + +<p>The night was chilly, and they had a fire. Hope lay on a sofa before it, +and Ronnie sat and smoked. Both were luxuriously comfortable till a hand +rapped smartly upon the window and made them jump.</p> + +<p>Ronnie exclaimed with a violence that astonished Hope, and started to +his feet. She also sprang up eagerly, almost expecting to see her +<i>fiancé</i>. But her expectations were quickly dashed.</p> + +<p>"It's that fellow Hyde!" Ronnie said, looking at her rather doubtfully. +"You don't mind?"</p> + +<p>Her face fell, but he did not wait for her reply. He stepped across to +the window, and admitted the visitor.</p> + +<p>Hyde sauntered in with a casual air.</p> + +<p>He came across to her, smiling in the way she loathed, and almost before +she realized it he had her hand in a tight, impressive grip, and his +pale eyes were gazing full into hers.</p> + +<p>"You look as fresh as an English rose," was his deliberate greeting.</p> + +<p>Hope freed her hand with a slight, involuntary gesture of disgust. Till +the moment of seeing him again she had almost forgotten how utterly +objectionable he was.</p> + +<p>"I am quite well," she said coldly. "I think I shall go to bed, Ronnie. +I'm tired."</p> + +<p>Ronnie was pouring some whisky into a glass. She noticed that his hand +was very shaky.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said, not looking at her.</p> + +<p>"You're not going to desert us already?" said Hyde; still, as she felt, +mocking her with his smile. "It will be dark, indeed, when Hope is +withdrawn."</p> + +<p>He went to the door, but paused with his hand upon it. She looked at him +with the wild shrinking of a trapped creature in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," he laughed softly; "I am very tenacious. Even now—you +will scarcely believe it—I still have—Hope!"</p> + +<p>He opened the door with the words, and, as she passed through in +unbroken silence, her face as white as marble, there was something in +his words, something of self-assured power, almost of menace, that +struck upon her like a breath of evil. She would have stayed and defied +him had she dared. But somehow, inexplicably, she was afraid.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_VII'></a><h2>VII</h2> + +<h2>THE SCRAPE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Very late that night there came a low knock at Hope's door. She was +lying awake, and she instantly started up on her elbow.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" she called.</p> + +<p>The door opened softly, and Ronnie answered her.</p> + +<p>"I thought you would like to say good-night, Hope," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come in, dear!" Hope sat up eagerly. She had not expected this +attention from Ronnie. "I'm wide awake. I'm so glad you came!"</p> + +<p>He slipped into the room, and, reaching her, bent to kiss her; then, as +she clung closely to him, he sat down on the edge of her bed.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry Hyde annoyed you," he said.</p> + +<p>She leaned her head against him, and was silent.</p> + +<p>"It'll be a good thing for you when you're married," Ronnie went on +presently. "Baring will take better care of you than I do."</p> + +<p>Something in his tone went straight to her heart. Her clinging arms +tightened, but still she was silent. For what he said was unanswerable.</p> + +<p>When he spoke again, she felt it was with an effort.</p> + +<p>"Baring came round to-night to see you. I went out and spoke to him. I +told him you had gone to bed, and so he didn't come in. I was glad he +didn't. Hyde was there, and they don't hit it particularly well. In +fact—" he hesitated. "I would rather he didn't know Hyde was here. +Baring's a good chap—the best in the world. He's done no end for me; +more than I can ever tell you. But he's awfully hard in some ways. I +can't tell him everything. He doesn't always understand."</p> + +<p>Again there sounded in his voice that faint, wistful note that so smote +upon Hope's heart. She drew nearer to him, her cheek against his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ronnie," she said, and her voice quivered passionately, "never +think that of me, dear! Never think that I can't understand!"</p> + +<p>He kissed her forehead.</p> + +<p>"Bless you, old girl!" he whispered huskily.</p> + +<p>"My marriage will make no difference—no difference," she insisted. "You +and I will still be to each other what we have always been. There will +be the same trust between us, the same confidence. Rather than lose +that, I will never marry at all!"</p> + +<p>She spoke with vehemence, but Ronnie was not carried away by it.</p> + +<p>"Baring will have the right to know all your secrets," he said gloomily.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Hope impulsively. "He would never expect that. +He knows that we are twins, and there is no tie in the world that is +quite like that."</p> + +<p>Ronnie was silent, but she felt that it was not the silence of +acquiescence. She took him by the shoulders and made him face her.</p> + +<p>"Ronnie," she said very earnestly, "if you will only tell me things, and +let me help you where I can, I swear to you—I swear to you most +solemnly—that I will never betray your confidence to Monty, or to any +one else: I know that he would never ask it of me; but even if he +did—even if he did—I would not do it." She spoke so steadfastly, so +loyally, that he was strongly moved. He thrust his arm boyishly round +her.</p> + +<p>"All right, dear old girl, I trust you," he said. "I'll tell you all +about it. As I see you have guessed, there is a bit of a scrape; but it +will be all right in two or three weeks. I've been a fool, and got into +debt again. Baring helped me out once. That's partly why I'm so +particularly anxious that he shouldn't get wind of it this time. Fact +is, I'm very much in Hyde's power for the time being. But, as I say, it +will be all right before long. I've promised to ride his Waler for the +Ghantala Valley Cup next month. It's a pretty safe thing, and if I pull +it off, as I intend to do, everything will be cleared, and I shall be +out of his hands. It's a sort of debt of honour, you see. I can't get +out of it, but I shall be jolly glad when it's over. We'll chuck him +then, if he isn't civil. But till then I'm more or less helpless. So +you'll do your best to tolerate him for my sake, won't you?"</p> + +<p>A great sigh rose from Hope's heart, but she stifled it. Hyde's attitude +of insolent power was explained to her, and she would have given all she +had at that moment to have been free to seek Baring's advice.</p> + +<p>"I'll try, dear," she said. "But I think the less I see of him the +better it will be. Are you quite sure of winning the Cup?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, quite," said Ronnie, with confidence. "Quite. Do you remember the +races we used to have when we were kids? We rode barebacked in those +days. You could stick on anything. Remember?"</p> + +<p>Yes, Hope remembered; and a sudden, almost fierce regret surged up +within her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ronnie," she said, "I wish we were kids still!"</p> + +<p>He laughed at her softly, and rose.</p> + +<p>"I know better," he said; "and so does Baring. Good-night, old girl! +Sleep well!"</p> + +<p>And with that he left her. But Hope scarcely slept till break of day.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_VIII'></a><h2>VIII</h2> + +<h2>BEFORE THE RACE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Hope had arranged to go to the races with Mrs. Latimer after previously +lunching with her.</p> + +<p>When the day arrived she spent the morning working on the veranda in the +sunshine. It was a perfect day of Indian winter, and under its influence +she gradually forgot her anxieties, and fell to dreaming while she +worked.</p> + +<p>Down below the compound she heard the stream running swiftly between its +banks, with a bubbling murmur like half-suppressed laughter. It was +fuller than she had ever known it. The rains had swelled the river +higher up the valley, and they had opened the sluice-gates to relieve +the pressure upon the dam that had been built there after the disastrous +flood that had drowned the English girl years before.</p> + +<p>Hope loved to hear that soft chuckling between the reeds. It made her +think of an English springtime. The joy of spring was in her veins. She +turned her face to the sunshine with a smile of purest happiness. Only +two months more to the zenith of her happiness!</p> + +<p>There came the sound of a step on the veranda—a stumbling, uncertain +step. She turned swiftly in her chair, and sprang up. Ronnie had +returned to prepare for the race, and she had not heard him. She had not +seen him before that day, and she felt a momentary compunction as she +moved to greet him. And then—her heart stood still.</p> + +<p>He was standing a few paces away, supporting himself against a pillar of +the veranda. His eyes were fixed and heavy, like the eyes of a man +walking in his sleep. He stared at her dully, as if he were looking at a +complete stranger.</p> + +<p>Hope stopped short, gazing at him in speechless consternation.</p> + +<p>After several moments he spoke thickly, scarcely intelligibly.</p> + +<p>"I can't race to-day," he said. "Not well enough. Hyde must find a +substitute."</p> + +<p>He could hardly articulate the last word, but Hope caught his meaning. +The whole miserable tragedy was written up before her in plain, +unmistakable characters.</p> + +<p>But almost as quickly as she perceived it came the thought that no one +else must know. Something must be done, even though it was at the +eleventh hour.</p> + +<p>Her first instinct was to send for Baring, but she thrust it from her. +No! She must find another way. There must be a way out if she were only +quick enough to see it—some way by which she could cover up his +disgrace so that none should know of it. There was a way—surely there +was a way! Ronnie's dull stare became intolerable. She went to him, +bravely, steadfastly.</p> + +<p>"Go and lie down!" she said. "I will see about it for you."</p> + +<p>Something in her own words sent a sudden flash through her brain. She +caught her breath, and her face turned very white. But her steadfastness +did not forsake her. She took Ronnie by the arm and guided him to his +room.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_IX'></a><h2>IX</h2> + +<h2>THE RACE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Such a pity. Hope can't come!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Latimer addressed Baring, who had just approached her across the +racecourse. The sun was shining brilliantly, and the scene was very +gay.</p> + +<p>Baring, who had drawn near with a certain eagerness, seemed to stiffen +at her words.</p> + +<p>"Can't come!" he echoed. "Why not?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Latimer handed him a note.</p> + +<p>"She sent this round half an hour ago."</p> + +<p>Baring read the note with bent brows. It merely stated that the writer +had been working all the morning and was a little tired. Would Mrs. +Latimer kindly understand and excuse her?</p> + +<p>He handed it back without comment.</p> + +<p>"Where is young Carteret?" he asked. "Have you seen him yet?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered. "Somebody was saying he was late. Ah! There he is, +surely—just going into the weighing-tent. What a superb horse that is +of Mr. Hyde's! Do you think he will win the Cup?"</p> + +<p>Baring thought it likely, but he said it with so preoccupied an air that +Mrs. Latimer smiled, and considerately refrained from detaining him.</p> + +<p>She watched him walk down towards the weighing-tent; but before he +reached it, she saw the figure of young Carteret issue forth at the +farther end, and start off at a run with his saddle on his shoulder +towards the enclosure where the racers were waiting. He was late, and +she thought he looked flurried.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later Baring returned to her.</p> + +<p>"The boy is behindhand, as usual," he remarked. "I didn't get near him. +Time is just up. I hear the Rajah thinks very highly of Hyde's Waler."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Latimer looked across at the Indian Prince who was presenting the +Cup. He was seated in the midst of a glittering crowd of natives and +British officers. She saw that he was closely scanning the restless line +of horses at the starting-point.</p> + +<p>Through her glasses she sought the big black Waler. He was foaming and +stamping uneasily, and she saw that his rider's face was deadly pale.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe Ronnie can be well," she said. "He looks so nervous."</p> + +<p>Baring grunted in a dissatisfied note, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>Another two minutes, and the signal was given. There were ten horses in +the race. It was a fair start, and the excitement in the watching crowd +became at once intense.</p> + +<p>Baring remained at Mrs. Latimer's side. She was on her feet, and +scarcely breathing. The black horse stretched himself out like a +greyhound, galloping splendidly over the shining green of the course. +His rider, crouched low in the saddle, looked as if at any instant he +might be hurled to the earth.</p> + +<p>Baring watched him critically, his jaw set and grim. Obviously, the boy +was not himself, and he fancied he knew the reason.</p> + +<p>"If he pulls it off, it'll be the biggest fluke of his life," he +muttered.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it queer?" whispered Mrs. Latimer. "I never saw young Carteret +ride like that before."</p> + +<p>Baring was silent. He began to think he understood Hope's failure to put +in an appearance.</p> + +<p>Gradually the black Waler drew away from all but two others, who hotly +contested the leadership. He was running superbly, though he apparently +received but small encouragement from his rider.</p> + +<p>As they drew round the curve at the further end of the course, he was +galloping next to the rails. As they finally turned into the straight +run home, he was leading.</p> + +<p>But the horse next to him, urged by his rider, who was also his owner, +made so strenuous an effort that it became obvious to all that he was +gaining upon the Waler.</p> + +<p>A great yell went up of "Carteret! Carteret! Wake up, Carteret! Don't +give it away!" And the Waler's rider, as if startled by the cry, +suddenly and convulsively slashed the animal's withers.</p> + +<p>Through a great tumult of shouting the two horses dashed past the +winning-post. It seemed a dead heat; but, immediately after, the news +spread that Hyde's horse was the winner. The Waler had gained his +victory by a neck.</p> + +<p>Hyde was leading his horse round to the Rajah's stand. His jockey, +looking white and exhausted, sat so loosely in the saddle that he seemed +to sway with the animal's movements. He did not appear to hear the +cheering around him.</p> + +<p>Baring took up his stand near the weighing-tent, and, a few minutes +later, Hyde and his jockey came up together. The boy's cap was dragged +down over his eyes, and he looked neither to right nor left.</p> + +<p>Hyde, perceiving Baring, pushed forward abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I want a word with you," he said. "I've been trying to catch you for +some days past. But first, what did you think of the race?" He coolly +fastened on to Baring's elbow, and the latter had to pause. Hyde's +companion passed swiftly on; and Hyde, seeing the look on Baring's face, +began to laugh.</p> + +<p>"It's all right; you needn't look so starched. The little beggar's been +starving himself for the occasion, and overdone it. He'll pull round +with a little feeding up. Tell me what you thought of the race! Splendid +chap, that animal of mine, eh?"</p> + +<p>He kept Baring talking for several minutes; and, when they finally +parted, his opportunity had gone.</p> + +<p>Baring went into the weighing-tent, but Ronnie was nowhere to be seen. +And he wondered rather grimly as he walked away if Hyde had detained him +purposely to give the boy a chance to escape.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_X'></a><h2>X</h2> + +<h2>THE ENEMY'S TERMS</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was nearly dark that evening when Hope stood again on the veranda of +the Magician's, bungalow, and listened to the water running through the +reeds. She thought it sounded louder than in the morning—- more +insistent, less mirthful. She shivered a little as she stood there. She +felt lonely; her uncle was away for a couple of days, and Ronnie was in +his room. She was bracing herself to go and rouse him to dress for mess. +Slowly, at last, she turned to go. But at the same instant a voice +called to her from below, and she stopped short.</p> + +<p>"Ah, don't run away!" it said. "I've come on purpose to see you—on a +matter of importance."</p> + +<p>Reluctantly Hope waited. She knew the voice well, and it made her quiver +in every nerve with the instinct of flight. Yet she summoned all her +resolution and stood still, while Hyde calmly mounted the veranda steps +and approached her. He was in riding-dress, and he carried a crop, +walking with all the swaggering insolence that she loathed.</p> + +<p>"There's something I want to say to you," he said. "I can come in, I +suppose? It won't take me long."</p> + +<p>He took her permission for granted, and turned into the drawing-room. +Hope followed him in silence. She could not pretend to this man that his +presence was a pleasure to her. She hated him, and deep in her heart she +feared him as she feared no one else in the world.</p> + +<p>He looked at her with eyes of cynical criticism by the light of the +shaded lamp. She felt that there was something worse than insolence +about him that night—something of cruelty, of brutality even, from +which she was powerless to escape.</p> + +<p>"Come!" he said, as she did not speak. "Doesn't it occur to you that I +have been a particularly good friend to you to-day?"</p> + +<p>Hope faced him steadily. Twice before she had evaded this man, but she +knew that to-night evasion was out of the question. She must confront +him without panic, and alone.</p> + +<p>"I think you must tell me what you mean," she said, her voice very low.</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, and then laughed at her—his +abominable, mocking laugh.</p> + +<p>"I have noticed before," he said, "that when a woman finds herself in a +tight corner, she invariably tries to divert attention by asking +unnecessary questions. It's a harmless little stratagem that may serve +her turn. But in this case, let me assure you, it is sheer waste of +time. I hold you—and your brother, also—in the hollow of my hand. And +you know it."</p> + +<p>He spoke slowly, with a confidence from which there was no escape. His +eyes still closely watched her face. And Hope felt again that wild +terror, which only he had ever inspired in her, knocking at her heart.</p> + +<p>She did not ask him a second time what he meant. He had made her realize +the utter futility of prevarication. Instead, she forced herself to +meet his look boldly, and grapple with him with all her desperate +courage.</p> + +<p>"My brother owed you a debt of honour," she said; "and it has been paid. +What more do you want?"</p> + +<p>A glitter of admiration shone for a moment through his cynicism. This +was better than meek surrender. A woman who fought was worth conquering.</p> + +<p>"You are not going to acknowledge, then," he said, "that you—you +personally—are in any way indebted to me?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" The girl's eyes did not flinch before his. Save that +she was trembling, he would scarcely have detected her fear. "You have +done nothing for me," she said. "You only served your own purpose."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed!" said Hyde softly. "So that is how you look at it, is it?"</p> + +<p>He moved, and went close to her. Still she did not shrink. She was +fighting desperately—desperately—a losing battle.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, after a moment, in which she withstood him silently +with all her strength, "in one sense that is true. I did serve my own +purpose. But have you, I wonder, any idea what that purpose of mine +was?"</p> + +<p>He waited, but she did not answer him. She was nearly at the end of her +strength. Hyde did not offer to touch her. He only smiled a little at +the rising panic in her white face.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what I am going to do now?" he said. "I am going to +mess—it's a guest night—and they will drink my health as the winner of +the Ghantala Cup. And then I shall propose someone else's health. Can +you guess whose?"</p> + +<p>She shrank then, shrank perceptibly, painfully, as the victim must +shrink, despite all his resolution, from the hot iron of the torturer.</p> + +<p>Hyde stood for a second longer, watching her. Then he turned. There was +fiendish triumph in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye!" he said.</p> + +<p>She caught her breath sharply, spasmodically, as one who suppresses a +cry of pain. And then, before he reached the window, she spoke:</p> + +<p>"Please wait!"</p> + +<p>He turned instantly, and came back to her.</p> + +<p>"Come!" he said. "You are going to be reasonable after all."</p> + +<p>"What is it that you want?" Her desperation sounded in her voice. She +looked at him with eyes of wild appeal. Her defiance was all gone. The +smile went out of Hyde's face, and suddenly she saw the primitive savage +in possession. She had seen it before, but till that moment she had +never realized quite what it was.</p> + +<p>"What do I want?" he said. "I want you, and you know it. That fellow +Baring is not the man for you. You are going to give him up. Do you +hear? Or else—if you prefer it—he will give you up. I don't care which +it is, but one or the other it shall be. Now do we understand one +another?"</p> + +<p>Hope stared at him, speechless, horror-stricken, helpless!</p> + +<p>He came nearer to her, but she did not recoil, for as a serpent holds +its prey, so he held her. She wanted to protest, to resist him fiercely, +but she was mute. Even the power to flee was taken from her. She could +only stand as if chained to the ground, stiff and paralyzed, awaiting +his pleasure. No nightmare terror had ever so obsessed her. The agony of +it was like a searing flame.</p> + +<p>And Hyde, seeing her anguished helplessness, came nearer still with a +sort of exultant deliberation, and put his arm about her as she stood.</p> + +<p>"I thought I should win the trick," he said, with a laugh that seemed to +turn her to ice. "Didn't I tell you weeks ago that I had—Hope?"</p> + +<p>She did not attempt to answer or to resist. Her lips were quite +bloodless. A surging darkness was about her, but yet she remained +conscious—vividly horribly conscious—of the trap that had so suddenly +closed upon her. Through it she saw his face close to her own, with that +sneering, devilish smile about his mouth that she knew so well. And the +eyes with their glittering savagery were mocking her—mocking her.</p> + +<p>Another instant and his lips would have pressed her own. He held her +fast, so fast that she felt almost suffocated. It was the most hideous +moment of her life. And still she could neither move nor protest. It +seemed as if, body and soul, she was his prisoner.</p> + +<p>But suddenly, unexpectedly, he paused. His arms slackened and fell +abruptly from her; so abruptly that she tottered, feeling vaguely for +support. She saw his face change as he turned sharply away. And +instinctively, notwithstanding the darkness that blinded her, she knew +the cause. She put her hand over her eyes and strove to recover herself.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_XI'></a><h2>XI</h2> + +<h2>WITHOUT DEFENCE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>When Hope looked up, the silence had become unbearable. She saw Baring +standing quite motionless near the window by which he had entered. He +was not looking at her, and she felt suddenly, crushingly, that she had +become less than nothing in his sight, not so much as a thing, to be +ignored.</p> + +<p>Hyde, quite calm and self-possessed, still stood close to her. But he +had turned his back upon her to face the intruder. And she felt herself +to be curiously apart from them both, almost like a spectator at a play.</p> + +<p>It was Hyde who at last broke the silence when it had begun to torture +her nerves beyond endurance.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps this <i>rencontre</i> is not as unfortunate as it looks at first +sight," he remarked complacently. "It will save me the trouble of +seeking an interview with you to explain what you are now in a position +to see for yourself. I believe a second choice is considered a woman's +privilege. Miss Carteret, as you observe, has just availed herself of +this. And I am afraid that in consequence you will have to abdicate in +my favour."</p> + +<p>Baring heard him out in complete silence. As Hyde ended, he moved +quietly forward into the room. Hope felt him drawing nearer, but she +could not face him. His very quietness was terrible to her, and she was +desperately conscious that she had no weapon of defence.</p> + +<p>She had not thought that he would so much as notice her, but she was +wrong. He passed by Hyde without a glance, and reached her.</p> + +<p>"What am I to understand?" he said.</p> + +<p>She started violently at the sound of his voice. She knew that Hyde had +turned towards her again, but she looked at neither of them. She was +trembling so that she could scarcely stand. Her very lips felt cold, and +she could not utter a word.</p> + +<p>After a brief pause Baring spoke again: "Can't you answer me?"</p> + +<p>There was no anger in his voice, but there was also no kindness. She +knew that he was watching her with a piercing scrutiny, and she dared +not raise her eyes. She shook her head at last, as he waited for her +reply.</p> + +<p>"Are you willing for me to take an explanation from Mr. Hyde?" he +asked; and his tone rang suddenly hard. "Has he the right to explain?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I have the right," said Hyde easily.</p> + +<p>"Tell him so, Hope!"</p> + +<p>Baring bent towards the girl.</p> + +<p>"If he has the right," he said, his voice quiet but very insistent, +"look me in the face—and tell me so!"</p> + +<p>She made a convulsive effort and looked up at him.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said in a whisper. "He has the right."</p> + +<p>Baring straightened himself abruptly, almost as if he had received a +blow in the face.</p> + +<p>He stood for a second silent. Then:</p> + +<p>"Where is your brother?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Hope hesitated, and at once Hyde answered for her.</p> + +<p>"He isn't back yet. He stopped at the club."</p> + +<p>"That," said Baring sternly, "is a lie."</p> + +<p>He laid his hand suddenly upon Hope's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Surely you can tell me the truth at least!" he said.</p> + +<p>Something in his tone pierced the wild panic at her heart. She looked up +at him again, meeting the mastery of his eyes.</p> + +<p>"He is in his room," she said. "Mr. Hyde didn't know."</p> + +<p>Hyde laughed, and at the sound the hand on Hope's shoulder closed like a +vice, till she bit her lip with the effort to endure the pain. Baring +saw it, and instantly set her free.</p> + +<p>"Go to your brother," he said, "and ask him to come and speak to me!"</p> + +<p>The authority in his voice was not to be gainsaid. She threw an +imploring look at Hyde, and went. She fled like a wild creature along +the veranda to her brother's room, and tapped feverishly, frantically at +the window. Then she paused listening intently for a reply. But she +could hear nothing save the loud beating of her heart. It drummed in her +ears like the hoofs of a galloping horse. Desperately she knocked again.</p> + +<p>"Let me in!" she gasped. "Let me in!"</p> + +<p>There came a blundering movement, and the door opened.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" said Ronnie, in a voice of sleepy irritation. "What's up?"</p> + +<p>She stumbled into the dark room, breathless and sobbing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ronnie!" she cried. "Oh, Ronnie; you must help me now!"</p> + +<p>He fastened the door behind her, and as she sank down half-fainting in a +chair, she heard him groping for matches on the dressing-table.</p> + +<p>He struck one, and lighted a lamp. She saw that his hand was very shaky, +but that he managed to control it. His face was pale, and there were +deep shadows under his heavy eyes, but he was himself again, and a +thrill of thankfulness ran through her. There was still a chance, still +a chance!</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_XII'></a><h2>XII</h2> + +<h2>THE PENALTY</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Five minutes later, or it might have been less, the brother and sister +stepped out on to the veranda to go to the drawing-room. They had to +turn a corner of the bungalow to reach it, and the moment they did so +Hope stopped dead. A man's voice, shouting curses, came from the open +window; and, with it, the sound of struggling and the sound of +blows—blows delivered with the precision and regularity of a +machine—frightful, swinging blows that sounded like revolver shots.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" gasped Hope in terror. "What is it?" But she knew very +well what it was; and Ronnie knew, too.</p> + +<p>"You stay here," he said. "I'll go and stop it."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" she gasped back. "I am coming with you; I must." She slipped +her cold hand into his, and they ran together towards the commotion.</p> + +<p>Reaching the drawing-room window, Ronnie stopped, and put the trembling +girl behind him. But he himself did not enter. He only stood still, with +a cowed look on his face, and waited. In the middle of the room, Baring, +his face set and terrible, stood gripping Hyde by the torn collar of his +coat and thrashing him, deliberately, mercilessly, with his own +riding-whip. How long the punishment had gone on the two at the window +could only guess. But it was evident that Hyde was nearing exhaustion. +His face was purple in patches, and the curses he tried to utter came +maimed and broken and incoherent from his shaking lips. He had almost +ceased to struggle in the unwavering grip that held him; he only moved +convulsively at each succeeding blow.</p> + +<p>"Oh, stop him!" implored Hope, behind her brother. "Stop him!" Then, as +he did not move, she pushed wildly past him into the room.</p> + +<p>Baring saw her, and instantly, almost as if he had been awaiting her, +stayed his hand. He did not speak. He simply took Hyde by the shoulders +and half-carried, half-propelled him to the window, through which he +thrust him.</p> + +<p>He returned empty-handed and closed the window. Ronnie had entered, and +was standing by his sister, who had dropped upon her knees by the sofa +and hidden her face in the cushions, sobbing with a pasionate +abandonment that testified to nerves that had given way utterly at last +beneath a strain too severe to be borne. Baring just glanced at her, +then turned his attention to her brother.</p> + +<p>"I have been doing your work for you," he remarked grimly. "Aren't you +ashamed of yourself?" He put his hand upon Ronnie, and twisted him round +to face the light, looking at him piercingly. "Aren't you ashamed of +yourself?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>Ronnie met his eyes irresolutely for a moment, then looked away towards +Hope. She had become very still, but her face remained hidden. There was +something tense about her attitude. After a moment Ronnie spoke, his +voice very low.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you had a reason for what you have just been doing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Baring said sternly, "I had a reason. Do you mean me to +understand that you didn't know that fellow to be a blackguard?"</p> + +<p>Ronnie made no answer. He stood like a beaten dog.</p> + +<p>"If you didn't know it," Baring continued, "I am sorry for your +intelligence. If you did, you deserve the same treatment as he has just +received."</p> + +<p>Hope stirred at the words, stirred and moaned, as if she were in pain; +and again momentarily Baring glanced at her. But his face showed no +softening.</p> + +<p>"I mean what I say," he said, turning inexorably to Ronnie. "I told you +long ago that that man was not fit to associate with your sister. You +must have known it for yourself; yet you continued to bring him to the +house. What I have just done was in her defence. Mark that, for—as you +know—I am not in the habit of acting hastily. But there are some +offences that only a horsewhip can punish." He set the boy free with a +contemptuous gesture, and crossed the room to Hope. "Now I have +something to say to you," he said.</p> + +<p>She started and quivered, but she did not raise her head. Very quietly +he stooped and lifted her up. He saw that she was too upset for the +moment to control herself, and he put her into a chair and waited beside +her. After several seconds she slipped a trembling hand into his, and +spoke.</p> + +<p>"Monty," she said, "I have something to say to you first."</p> + +<p>Her action surprised him. It touched him also, but he did not show it.</p> + +<p>"I am listening," he said gravely.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him and uttered a sharp sigh. Then, with an effort, she +rose and faced him.</p> + +<p>"You are very angry with me," she said. "You are going to—to—give me +up."</p> + +<p>His face hardened. He looked back at her with a sternness that sent the +blood to her heart. He said nothing whatever. She went on with +difficulty.</p> + +<p>"But before you do," she said, "I want to tell you that—that—ever +since you asked me to marry you I have loved you—with my whole heart; +and I have never—in thought or deed—been other than true to my love. I +can't tell you any more than that. It is no good to question me. I may +have done things of which you would strongly disapprove, which you would +even condemn, but my heart has always been true to you—always."</p> + +<p>She stopped. Her lips were quivering painfully. She saw that her words +had not moved him to confidence in her, and it seemed as if the whole +world had suddenly turned dark and empty and cold—a place to wander in, +but never to rest.</p> + +<p>A long silence followed that supreme effort of hers. Baring's +eyes—blue, merciless as steel—were fixed upon her in a gaze that +pierced and hurt her. Yet he forced her to endure it. He held her in +front of him ruthlessly, almost cruelly.</p> + +<p>"So I am not to question you?" he said at last. "You object to that?"</p> + +<p>She winced at his tone.</p> + +<p>"Don't!" she said under her breath. "Don't hurt me more—more than you +need!"</p> + +<p>He was silent again, grimly, interminably silent, it seemed to her. And +all the while she felt him doing battle with her, beating down her +resistance, mastering her, compelling her.</p> + +<p>"Hope!" he said at length.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him. Her knees were shaking under her. Her heart was +beginning to whisper that her strength was nearly spent; that she would +not be able to resist much longer.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he said very quietly, "this one thing only! What is the hold +that Hyde has over you?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"That is the one thing—"</p> + +<p>"It is the one thing that I must know," he said sternly.</p> + +<p>She was white to the lips.</p> + +<p>"I can't answer you," she said.</p> + +<p>"You must answer me!" He turned her quivering face up to his own. "Do +you hear me, Hope?" he said. "I insist upon your answering me."</p> + +<p>He still spoke quietly, but she was suddenly aware that he was putting +forth his whole strength. It came upon her like a physical, crushing +weight. It overwhelmed her. She hid her face with an anguished cry. He +had conquered her.</p> + +<p>In another moment she would have yielded. Her opposition was dead. But +abruptly, unexpectedly, there came an interruption. Ronnie, very pale, +and looking desperate, came between them.</p> + +<p>"Look here, sir," he said, "you—you are going too far. I can't have my +sister coerced in this fashion. If she prefers to keep this matter to +herself, she must do so. You can't force her to speak."</p> + +<p>Baring released Hope and turned upon him almost violently, but, seeing +the unusual, if precarious, air of resolution with which Ronnie +confronted him, he checked himself. He walked to the end of the room and +back before he spoke. His features were set like a mask when he +returned.</p> + +<p>"You may be right," he said, "though I think it would have been better +for everyone if you had not interfered. Hope, I am going. If you cannot +bring yourself to tell me the whole truth without reservation, there can +be nothing further between us. I fear that, after all, I spoke too soon. +I can enter upon no compact that is not based upon absolute +confidence."</p> + +<p>He spoke coldly, decidedly, without a trace of feeling; and, having +spoken, he went deliberately to the window. There he stood for a few +seconds with his back turned upon the room; then, as the silence +remained unbroken, he quietly lifted the catch and let himself out.</p> + +<p>In the room he left not a word was spoken for many tragic minutes.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_XIII'></a><h2>XIII</h2> + +<h2>THE CURSE OF THE VALLEY</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Hope had some difficulty in persuading Ronnie to attend mess that night, +though, as a matter of fact, she was longing for solitude.</p> + +<p>He went at last, and she was glad, for a great restlessness possessed +her to which it was a relief to give way. She wandered about the veranda +in the dark after his departure, trying to realize fully what had +happened. It had all come upon her so suddenly. She had been forced to +act throughout without a moment's pause for thought. Now that it was all +over she wanted to collect herself and face the worst.</p> + +<p>Her engagement was at an end. It was mainly that fact that she wished to +grasp. But somehow she found it very difficult. She had grown into the +habit of regarding herself as belonging exclusively and for all time to +Montagu Baring.</p> + +<p>"He has given me up! He has given me up!" she whispered to herself, as +she paced to and fro along the crazy veranda. She recalled the look his +face had worn, the sternness, the pitilessness of his eyes. She had +always felt at the back of her heart that he had it in him to be hard, +merciless. But she had not really thought that she would ever shrink +beneath the weight of his anger. She had trusted blindly to his love to +spare her. She had imagined herself to be so dear to him that she must +be exempt. Others—it did not surprise her that others feared him. But +she—his promised wife—what could she have to fear?</p> + +<p>She paused at the end of the veranda, looking up. The night was full of +stars, and it was very cold. At the bottom of the compound she heard the +water running swiftly. It did not chuckle any more. It had become a +miniature roar. It almost seemed to threaten her.</p> + +<p>She remembered how she had listened to it in the morning, sitting in the +sunshine, dreaming; and her heart suddenly contracted with a pain +intolerable. Those golden dreams were over for ever. He had given her +up.</p> + +<p>Again her restlessness urged her. Cold as it was, she could not bring +herself to go indoors. She descended into the compound, passed swiftly +through it, and began to climb the rough ground of the hill that rose +behind it above the native village.</p> + +<p>The Magician's bungalow looked very ghostly in the starlight. Presently +she paused, and stood motionless, gazing down at it. She remembered +how, when she and her uncle had first come to it, the native servants +had told them of the curse that had been laid upon it; of the evil +spirits that had dwelt there; of voices that had cried in the night! Was +it true, she wondered vaguely? Was it possible for a place to be cursed?</p> + +<p>A faint breeze ran down the valley, stirring the trees to a furtive +whispering. Again, subconsciously, she was aware of the cold, and moved +to return. At the same moment there came a sound like the report of a +cannon half a mile away, followed by a long roar that was unlike +anything she had ever heard—a sound so appalling, so overwhelming, that +for an instant, seized with a nameless terror, she stood as one turned +to stone.</p> + +<p>And then—before the impulse of flight to the bungalow had reached her +brain—the whole terrible disaster burst upon her. Like a monster of +destruction, that which had been a gurgling stream rose above its banks +in a mighty, brown flood, surged like an inrushing sea over the moonlit +compound, and swept down the valley, turning it into a whirling turmoil +of water.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_XIV'></a><h2>XIV</h2> + +<h2>HOW THE TALE WAS TOLD</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Ronnie Carteret was the subject of a good deal of chaff that night at +mess. The Rajah was being entertained, and he was the only man who paid +the young officer any compliments on the matter of his achievement on +the racecourse. Everyone else openly declared that the horse, and not +its rider, was the one to be congratulated.</p> + +<p>"Never saw anything so ludicrous in my life," one critic said. "He +looked like a rag doll in the saddle. How he managed to stick on passes +me. Is it the latest from America, Ronnie? Leaves something to be +desired, old chap! I should stick to the old style, if I were you."</p> + +<p>Ronnie had no answer for the comments and advice showered upon him from +all sides. He received them all in silence, sullenly ignoring derisive +questions.</p> + +<p>Hyde was not present, to the surprise of every one. All knew that he had +been invited, and there was some speculation upon his non-appearance.</p> + +<p>Baring was there, quiet and self-contained as usual. No one ever chaffed +Baring. It was generally recognized that he did not provide good sport. +When the toasts were over he left the table.</p> + +<p>It was soon after his departure that a sound like a distant explosion +was heard by those in the messroom, causing some discussion there.</p> + +<p>"It's only some fool letting off fireworks," someone said; and as this +seemed a reasonable explanation, no one troubled to enquire further. And +so fully half an hour passed before the truth was known.</p> + +<p>It was Baring who came in with the news, and none who saw it ever +forgot his face as he threw open the messroom door. It was like the face +of a man suddenly stricken with a mortal hurt.</p> + +<p>"Heavens, man! What's the matter?" the colonel exclaimed, at sight of +him. "You look as if—as if—"</p> + +<p>Baring glanced round till his eyes fell upon Ronnie, and, when he spoke, +he seemed to be addressing him alone.</p> + +<p>"The dam has burst," he said, his words curt, distinct, unfaltering. +"The whole of the lower valley is flooded. The Magician's bungalow has +been swept away!"</p> + +<p>"What?" gasped Ronnie. "What?"</p> + +<p>He sprang to his feet, the awful look in Baring's eyes reflected in his +own, and made a dash for the doorway in which Baring stood. He stumbled +as he reached, it and the latter threw out a supporting arm.</p> + +<p>"It's no use your going," he said, his voice hard and mechanical. +"There's nothing to be done. I've been as near as it is possible to get. +It's nothing but a raging torrent half a mile across."</p> + +<p>He moved straight forward to a chair, and thrust the boy down into it. +There was a terrible stiffness—almost a fixity—about him. He did not +seem conscious of the men that crowded round him. It was not his +habitual reserve that kept him from collapse at that moment; it was +rather a stunned sense of expediency.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing to be done," he repeated.</p> + +<p>He looked down at Ronnie, who was clutching at the table with both +hands, and making ineffectual efforts to speak.</p> + +<p>"Give him some brandy, one of you!" he said.</p> + +<p>Someone held a glass against the boy's chattering teeth. The colonel +poured some spirit into another and gave it to Baring. He took it with a +hand that seemed steady, but the next instant it slipped through his +fingers and smashed on the floor. He turned sharply, not heeding it. +Most of the men in the room were on their way out to view the +catastrophe for themselves. He made as if to follow them; then, as if +struck by a sudden thought, he paused.</p> + +<p>Ronnie, deathly pale, and shaking all over, was fighting his way back to +self-control. Baring moved back to him with less of stiffness and more +of his usual strength of purpose.</p> + +<p>"Do you care to come with me?" he said.</p> + +<p>Ronnie looked up at him. Then, though he still shivered violently, he +got up without speaking; and, in silence, they went away together.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_XV'></a><h2>XV</h2> + +<h2>THE NIGHT OF DESPAIR</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Not till more than two hours later did Ronnie break his silence. He +would have tramped the hills all night above the flooded valley, but +Baring would not suffer it. He dragged him almost forcibly away from +the scene of desolation, where the water still flowed strongly, carrying +trees and all manner of wreckage on its course. And, though he was +almost beside himself, the boy yielded at last. For Baring compelled +obedience that night. He took Ronnie back to his own quarters, but on +the threshold Ronnie drew back.</p> + +<p>"I can't come in with you," he said.</p> + +<p>Baring's hand was on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You must," he answered quietly.</p> + +<p>"I can't," Ronnie persisted, with an effort. "I can't! I'm a cur; I'm +worse. You wouldn't ask me if you knew."</p> + +<p>Baring paused, then, with a strange, unwonted gentleness, he took the +boy's arm and led him in. "Never mind!" he said.</p> + +<p>Ronnie went with him, but in Baring's room he faced him with the courage +of despair.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to know it," he said jerkily. "It was my doing that +you—and she—parted as you did. She was going to tell you the truth. I +prevented her—for my own sake—not hers. I—I came between you."</p> + +<p>Baring's hand fell, but neither his face nor his tone varied as he made +steady reply.</p> + +<p>"I guessed it might be that—afterwards. I was on my way to tell her so +when the dam went."</p> + +<p>"That isn't all," Ronnie went on feverishly. "I'm worse than that, worse +even than she knew. I engaged to ride Hyde's horse to—to discharge a +debt I owed him. I told her it was a debt of honour. It wasn't. It was +to cover theft. I swindled him once, and he found out. I hated riding +his horse, but it would have meant open disgrace if I hadn't. She knew +it was urgent. And then at the last moment I was thirsty; I overdid it. +No; confound it, I'll tell you the truth! I went home drunk, too drunk +to sit a horse. And so she—she sent me to bed, and went in my place. +That's the thing she wouldn't tell you, the thing Hyde knew. She always +hated the man—always. She only endured him for my sake." He broke off. +Baring was looking at him as if he thought that he were raving. After a +moment Ronnie realized this. "It's the truth," he said. "I've told you +the truth. I never won the cup. I didn't know anything more about it +till it was over and she told me. I don't wonder you find it hard to +believe. But I swear it's the truth. Now let me go—and shoot myself!"</p> + +<p>He flung round distractedly, but Baring stopped him. There was no longer +any hardness about him, only compassionate kindness, as he made him sit +down, and gravely shut the door. When he spoke, it was not to utter a +word of reproach or blame.</p> + +<p>"No, don't go, boy!" he said, in a tone that Ronnie never forgot. "We'll +face this thing together. May God help us both!"</p> + +<p>And Ronnie, yielding once more, leaned his head in his hands, and burst +into anguished tears.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Debt_XVI'></a><h2>XVI</h2> + +<h2>THE COMING OF HOPE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>How they got through the dragging hours of that awful night neither of +them afterwards quite knew. They spoke very little, and slept not at +all. When morning came at last they were still sitting in silence as if +they watched the dead, linked together as brothers by a bond that was +sacred.</p> + +<p>It was soon after sunrise that a message came for Ronnie from the +colonel's bungalow next door to the effect that the commanding-officer +wished to see him. He looked at Baring as he received it.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd come with me," he said.</p> + +<p>Baring rose at once. He knew that the boy was depending very largely +upon his support just then. The sunshine seemed to mock them as they +went. It was a day of glorious Indian winter, than which there is +nothing more exquisite on earth, save one of English spring. The colonel +met them on his own veranda. He noted Ronnie's haggard face with a quick +glance of pity.</p> + +<p>"I sent for you, my lad," he said, "because I have just heard a piece of +news that I thought I ought to pass on at once."</p> + +<p>"News, sir?" Ronnie echoed the word sharply.</p> + +<p>"Yes; news of your sister." The colonel gave him a keen look, then went +on in a tone of reassuring kindness that both his listeners found +maddeningly deliberate. "She was not, it seems, in the bungalow at the +time the dam burst. She was out on the hillside, and so—My dear fellow, +for Heaven's sake pull yourself together! Things are better than you +think. She—" He did not finish, for Ronnie suddenly sprang past him +with a loud cry. A girl's figure had appeared in the doorway of the +colonel's drawing-room. Ronnie plunged in, and it was seen no more.</p> + +<p>The colonel turned to Baring for sympathy, and found that the latter had +abruptly, almost violently, turned his back. It surprised him +considerably, for he had often declared his conviction that under no +circumstances would this officer of his lose his iron composure. +Baring's behaviour of the night before had seemed to corroborate this; +in fact, he had even privately thought him somewhat cold-blooded.</p> + +<p>But his present conduct seemed to indicate that even Baring was human, +notwithstanding his strength; and in his heart the colonel liked him for +it. After a moment he began to speak, considerately ignoring the other's +attitude.</p> + +<p>"She was providentially on the further hill when it happened, and she +had great difficulty in getting round to us; lost her way several times, +poor girl, and only panic-stricken natives to direct her. It's been a +shocking disaster—the native village entirely swept away, though not +many European lives lost, I am glad to say. But Hyde is among the +missing. You knew Hyde?"</p> + +<p>"I knew him—well." Baring's words seemed to come with an effort.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, poor fellow; he probably didn't know much about it. Terrible, +a thing of this sort. It's impossible yet to estimate the damage, but +the whole of the lower valley is devastated. The Magician's bungalow has +entirely disappeared, I hear. A good thing the old man was away from +home."</p> + +<p>At this point, to Colonel Latimer's relief, Baring turned. He was paler +than usual, but there was no other trace of emotion about him.</p> + +<p>"If you will allow me," he said, "I should like to go and speak to her, +too."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," the colonel said heartily. "Certainly. Go at once! No doubt +she is expecting you. Tell the youngster I want him out here!"</p> + +<p>And Baring went.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>If Hope did expect him, she certainly did not anticipate the manner of +his coming. The man who entered the colonel's drawing-room was not the +man who had striven with a mastery that was almost brutal to bring her +into subjection only the day before. She could not have told wherein the +difference lay, but she was keenly aware of its existence. And because +of her knowledge she felt no misgiving, no shadow of fear. She did not +so much as wait for him to come to her. Simply moved by the woman's +instinct that cannot err, she went straight to him, and so into his +arms, clinging to him with a little sobbing laugh, and not speaking at +all, because there were no words that could express what she yet found +it so sublimely easy to tell him. Baring did not speak either, but he +had a different reason for his silence. He only held her closely to him, +till presently, raising her face to his, she understood. And she laughed +again, laughed through tears.</p> + +<p>"Weren't you rather quick to give up—hope?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>He did not answer her, but she found nothing discouraging in his +silence. Rather, it seemed to inspire her. She slipped her arms round +his neck. Her tears were nearly gone.</p> + +<p>"Hope doesn't die so easily," she said softly. "And I'll tell you +another thing that is ever so much harder to kill, that can never die at +all, in fact; or, perhaps I needn't. Perhaps you can guess what it is?"</p> + +<p>And again he did not answer her. He only bent, holding her fast pressed +against his heart, and kissed her fiercely, passionately, even +violently, upon the lips.</p> + +<p>"My Hope!" he said. "My Hope!"</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='The_Deliverer'></a><h2>THE DELIVERER<a name='FNanchor_1_1'></a><a href='#Footnote_1_1'><sup>[1]</sup></a></h2> + +<h2>I</h2> + +<h2>A PROMISE OF MARRIAGE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The band was playing very softly, very dreamily; it might have been a +lullaby. The girl who stood on the balcony of the great London house, +with the moonlight pouring full upon her, stooped, and nervously, +fumblingly, picked up a spray of syringa that had fallen from among the +flowers on her breast.</p> + +<p>The man beside her, dark-faced and grave, put out a perfectly steady +hand.</p> + +<p>"May I have it?" he said.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him with the start of a trapped animal. Her face was +very pale. It was in striking contrast to the absolute composure of his. +Very slowly and reluctantly she put the flower into his outstretched +hand.</p> + +<p>He took it, but he took her fingers also and kept them in his own. </p> + +<p>"When will you marry me, Nina?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She started again and made a frightened effort to free her hand.</p> + +<p>He smiled faintly and frustrated it.</p> + +<p>"When will you marry me?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>She threw back her head with a gesture of defiance; but the courage in +her eyes was that of desperation.</p> + +<p>"If I marry you," she said, "it will be purely and only for your money."</p> + +<p>He nodded. Not a muscle of his face moved.</p> + +<p>"Of course," he said. "I know that."</p> + +<p>"And you want me under those conditions?"</p> + +<p>There was a quiver in the words that might have been either of scorn or +incredulity.</p> + +<p>"I want you under any conditions," he responded quietly. "Marry my money +by all means if it attracts you! But you must take me with it."</p> + +<p>The girl shrank.</p> + +<p>"I can't!" she whispered suddenly.</p> + +<p>He released her hand calmly, imperturbably.</p> + +<p>"I will ask you again to-morrow," he said.</p> + +<p>"No!" she said sharply.</p> + +<p>He looked at her questioningly.</p> + +<p>"No!" she repeated, with a piteous ring of uncertainty in her voice. +"Mr. Wingarde, I say No!"</p> + +<p>"But you don't mean it," he said, with steady conviction.</p> + +<p>"I do mean it!" she gasped. "I tell you I do!"</p> + +<p>She dropped suddenly into a low chair and covered her face with a moan.</p> + +<p>The man did not move. He stared absently down into the empty street as +if waiting for something. There was no hint of impatience about his +strong figure. Simply, with absolute confidence, he waited.</p> + +<p>Five minutes passed and he did not alter his position. The soft strains +in the room behind them had swelled into music that was passionately +exultant. It seemed to fill and overflow the silence between them. Then +came a triumphant crash and it ended. From within sounded the gay buzz +of laughing voices.</p> + +<p>Slowly Wingarde turned and looked at the bent, hopeless figure of the +girl in the chair. He still held indifferently between his fingers the +spray of white blossom for which he had made request.</p> + +<p>He did not speak. Yet, as if in obedience to an unuttered command, the +girl lifted her head and looked up at him. Her eyes were full of misery +and indecision. They wavered beneath his steady gaze. Slowly, still +moving as if under compulsion, she rose and stood before him, white and +slim as a flower. She was quivering from head to foot.</p> + +<p>The man still waited. But after a moment he put out his hand silently.</p> + +<p>She did not touch it, choosing rather to lean upon the balustrade of the +balcony for support. Then at last she spoke, in a whisper that seemed to +choke her.</p> + +<p>"I will marry you," she said—"for your money."</p> + +<p>"I thought you would," Wingarde said very quietly.</p> + +<p>He stood looking down at her bent head and white shoulders. There were +sparkles of light in her hair that shone as precious metal shines in +ore. Her hands were both fast gripped upon the ironwork on which she +leant.</p> + +<p>He took a step forward and was close beside her, but he did not again +offer her his hand.</p> + +<p>"Will you answer my original question?" he said. "I asked—when?"</p> + +<p>In the moonlight he could see her shivering, shivering violently. She +shook her head; but he persisted.</p> + +<p>His manner was supremely calm and unhurried.</p> + +<p>"This week?" he said.</p> + +<p>She shook her head again with more decision.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no—no!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Next?" he suggested.</p> + +<p>"No!" she said again.</p> + +<p>He was looking at her full and deliberately, but she would not look at +him. She was quaking in every limb. There was a pause. Then Wingarde +spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Why not next week?" he asked. "Have you any particular reason?"</p> + +<p>She glanced at him.</p> + +<p>"It would be—so soon," she faltered.</p> + +<p>"What difference does that make?" A very strange smile touched his grim +lips. "Having made up your mind to do something disagreeable, do you +find shirking till the last moment makes it any easier—any more +palatable? Surely the sooner it's over—"</p> + +<p>"It never will be over," she broke in passionately. "It is for all my +life! Ah, what am I saying? Mr. Wingarde"—she turned towards him, her +face quivering painfully—"be patient with me! I have given my promise."</p> + +<p>The smile on his face deepened into something that closely resembled a +sneer.</p> + +<p>"How long do you want me to wait?" he said. "Fifty years?"</p> + +<p>She drew back sharply. But almost instantly he went on speaking.</p> + +<p>"I will yield a point," he said, "if it means so much to you. But, you +know, the wedding-day will dawn eventually, however remote we make it. +Will you say next month?"</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes wore a hunted look, but she kept them raised with +desperate resolution. She did not answer him, however. After a moment he +repeated his question. His face had become stern. The lines about his +mouth were grimly resolute.</p> + +<p>"Will you say next month, Nina?" he said. "It shall be the last day of +it if you wish. But—next month."</p> + +<p>His tone was inexorable. He meant to win this point, and she knew it.</p> + +<p>Her breath came quickly, unevenly; but in face of his mastery she made a +great effort to control her agitation.</p> + +<p>"Very well," she said, and she spoke more steadily than she had spoken +at all during the interview. "I will marry you next month."</p> + +<p>"Will you fix the day?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She uttered a sudden, breathless laugh—the reckless laugh of the loser.</p> + +<p>"Surely that cannot matter!" she said. "The first day or the last—as +you say, what difference does it make?"</p> + +<p>"You leave the choice tome?" he asked, without the smallest change of +countenance.</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" she said coldly.</p> + +<p>"Then I choose the first," he rejoined.</p> + +<p>And at the words she gave a great start as if already she repented the +moment of recklessness.</p> + +<p>The notes of a piano struck suddenly through the almost tragic silence +that covered up the protest she had not dared to utter. A few quiet +chords; and then a woman's voice began to sing. Slowly, with deep, +hidden pathos, the words floated out into the night; and, involuntarily +almost, the man and the girl stood still to listen:</p> + +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<span>Shadows and mist and night,<br /></span> +<span class='i2'>Darkness around the way,<br /></span> +<span>Here a cloud and there a star,<br /></span> +<span class='i2'>Afterwards, Day!<br /></span> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<span>Sorrow and grief and tears,<br /></span> +<span class='i2'>Eyes vainly raised above,<br /></span> +<span>Here a thorn and there a rose;<br /></span> +<span class='i2'>Afterwards, Love!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The voice was glorious, the rendering sublime. The spell of the singer +was felt in the utter silence that followed.</p> + +<p>Wingarde's eyes never left his companion's face. But the girl had turned +from him. She was listening, rapt and eager. She had forgotten his very +presence at her side. As the last passionate note thrilled into silence +she drew a long breath. Her eyes were full of tears.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she came to earth—to the consciousness of his watching +eyes—and her expression froze into contemptuous indifference. She +turned her head and faced him, scorning the tears she could not hide.</p> + +<p>In her look were bitter dislike, fierce resistance, outraged pride.</p> + +<p>"Some people," she said, with a little, icy smile, "would prefer to say +'Afterwards, Death!' I am one of them."</p> + +<p>Wingarde looked back at her with complete composure. He also seemed +faintly contemptuous.</p> + +<p>"You probably know as much of the one as of the other," he coolly +responded.</p> + +<p>FOOTNOTES:</p> + +<a name='Footnote_1_1'></a><a href='#FNanchor_1_1'>[1]</a><div class='note'><p> I desire to acknowledge my indebtedness to the Author—I +regret to say unknown to me—of the little poem which I have quoted in +this story.</p></div> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Deliverer_II'></a><h2>II</h2> + +<h2>A RING OF VALUE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"So Nina has made up her mind to retrieve the family fortunes," yawned +Leo, the second son of the house. "Uncommonly generous of her. My only +regret is that it didn't occur to her that it would be a useful thing to +do some time back. Is the young man coming to discuss settlements +to-night?"</p> + +<p>"What a beast you are!" growled Burton, the eldest son.</p> + +<p>"We're all beasts, if it comes to that," returned Leo complacently. "May +as well say it as think it. She has simply sold herself to the highest +bidder to get the poor old pater out of Queer Street. And we shall, I +hope, get our share of the spoil. I understand that Wingarde is lavish +with his worldly goods. He certainly ought to be. He's a millionaire of +the first water. A thousand or so distributed among his wife's relations +would mean no more to him than the throwing of the crusts to the +sparrows." He stopped to laugh lazily. "And the wife's relations would +flock in swarms to the feast," he added in a cynical drawl.</p> + +<p>Burton growled again unintelligibly. He strongly resented the sacrifice, +though he could not deny that there was dire need for it.</p> + +<p>The family fortunes were at a very low ebb. His father's lands were +mortgaged already beyond their worth, and he and his brother had been +trained for nothing but a life of easy independence.</p> + +<p>There were five more sons of the family, all at various stages of +education—two at college, three at Eton. It behooved the only girl of +the family to put her shoulder to the wheel if the machine were to be +kept going on its uphill course. Lord Marchmont had speculated +desperately and with disastrous results during the past five years. His +wife was hopelessly extravagant. And, of late, visions of the bankruptcy +court had nearly distracted the former.</p> + +<p>It had filtered round among his daughter's admirers that money, not +rank, would win the prize. But somehow no one had expected Hereford +Wingarde, the financial giant, to step coolly forward and secure it for +himself. He had been regarded as out of the running. Women did not like +him. He was scarcely ever seen in Society. And it was freely rumoured +that he hated women.</p> + +<p>Nina Marchmont, moreover, had always treated him with marked coldness, +as if to demonstrate the fact that his wealth held no attractions for +her. On the rare occasions that they met she was always ready to turn +aside with half-contemptuous dislike on her proud face, and amuse +herself with the tamest of her worshippers rather than hold any +intercourse with the fabulous monster of the money-markets.</p> + +<p>Certainly there was a surprise in store for the world in which she +moved. It was also certain that she meant to carry it through with rigid +self-control.</p> + +<p>Meeting her two brothers at lunch, she received the half-shamed +congratulations of one and the sarcastic comments of the other without +the smallest hint of discomfiture. She had come straight from an +interview with her father whom she idolized, and his gruff: "Well, my +dear, well; delighted that you have fallen in love with the right man," +and the unmistakable air of relief that had accompanied the words, had +warmed her heart.</p> + +<p>She had been very anxious about her father of late. The occasional heart +attacks to which he was subject had become much more frequent, and she +knew that his many embarrassments and perplexities were weighing down +his health. Well, that anxiety was at least lightened. She would be able +to help in smoothing away his difficulties. Surely the man of millions +would place her in a position to do so! He had almost undertaken to do +so.</p> + +<p>The glad thought nerved her to face the future she had chosen. She was +even very faintly conscious of a mitigation of her antipathy for the man +who had made himself her master. Besides, even though married to him, +she surely need not see much of him. She knew that he spent the whole of +his day in the City. She would still be free to spend hers as she +listed.</p> + +<p>And so, when she saw him that evening, when his momentous interview with +her father was over, she was moved to graciousness for the first time. A +passing glimpse of her father's face assured her that all had gone well, +aye, more than well.</p> + +<p>As for Wingarde, he waived the money question altogether when he found +himself alone with his <i>fiancée</i>.</p> + +<p>"Your father will tell you what provision I am prepared to make for +you," he coldly said. "He is fully satisfied—on your behalf."</p> + +<p>She felt the sting of the last words, and flushed furiously. But she +found no word of indignation to utter, though in a moment her +graciousness was a thing of the past.</p> + +<p>"I have not deceived you," she said, speaking with an effort.</p> + +<p>He gave her a keen look.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you could," he rejoined quietly. "And I certainly +shouldn't advise you to try."</p> + +<p>And then to her utter surprise and consternation he took her shoulders +between his hands.</p> + +<p>"May I kiss you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>There was not a shade of emotion to be detected in either face or voice +as he made the request. Yet Nina drew back from him with a shudder that +she scarcely attempted to disguise.</p> + +<p>"No!" she said vehemently.</p> + +<p>He set her free instantly, and she thought he smiled. But the look in +his eyes frightened her. She felt the mastery that would not compel.</p> + +<p>"One more thing," he said, calmly passing on. "It is usual for a girl in +your position to wear an engagement ring. I should like you to wear this +in my honour."</p> + +<p>He held out to her on the palm of his hand a little, old-fashioned ring +set with rubies and pearls. Nina glanced at him in momentary surprise. +It was not in the least what she would have expected as the rich man's +first gift. Involuntarily she hesitated. She felt that he had offered +her something more than mere precious stones set in gold.</p> + +<p>He waited for her to take the ring in absolute silence.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Wingarde," she said nervously, "I—I am afraid it is something you +value."</p> + +<p>"It is," he said. "It belonged to my mother. In fact, it was her +engagement ring. But why should you be afraid?"</p> + +<p>For the first time there was a note of softness in his voice.</p> + +<p>Nina's face was burning.</p> + +<p>"I would rather have something you do not care about," she said in a low +tone.</p> + +<p>Instantly his face grew hard.</p> + +<p>"Give me your hand!" he said shortly. "The left, please!"</p> + +<p>She gave it, the flush dying swiftly from her cheeks. She could not +control its trembling as he deliberately fitted the ring on to the third +finger.</p> + +<p>"Understand," he said, "that I wish this ring and no other to be the +token of your engagement to me. If you object to it, I am sorry. But, +after all, it will only be in keeping with the rest. I must go now as I +have an appointment to keep. Your father has asked me to lunch on Sunday +and I have accepted. I hope you will pay me the compliment of being at +home."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Deliverer_III'></a><h2>III</h2> + +<h2>THE HONEYMOON</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The first of June fell on a Saturday that year, and a good many people +remained in town for it in order to be present at the wedding of Lord +Marchmont's only daughter to Hereford Wingarde, the millionaire.</p> + +<p>Comments upon Nina's choice had even yet scarcely died out, and Archie +Neville, her faithful friend and admirer, was still wondering why he and +his very comfortable income had been passed over for this infernal +bounder whom no one knew. He had proposed to Nina twice, and on each +occasion her refusal had seemed to him to be tinged with regret. To use +his own expression, he was "awfully cut up" by the direction affairs had +taken. But, philosophically determined to make the best of it, he +attended the wedding with a smiling face, and even had the audacity to +kiss the bride—a privilege that had not been his since childhood.</p> + +<p>Hereford Wingarde, standing by his wife's side, the recipient of +congratulations from crowds of people who seemed to be her intimate +friends, but whom he had never seen before, noted that salute of Archie +Neville's with a very slight lift of his black brows. He noted also that +Nina returned it, and that her hand lingered in that of the young man +longer than in those of any of her other friends. It was a small +circumstance, but it stuck in his memory.</p> + +<p>A house had been lent them for the honeymoon by one of Nina's wealthy +friends in the Lake District. They arrived there hard upon midnight, +having dined on board the train.</p> + +<p>A light meal awaited them, to which they immediately sat down.</p> + +<p>"You are tired," Wingarde said, as the lamplight fell upon his bride's +flushed face and bright eyes.</p> + +<p>His own eyes were critical. She laughed and turned aside from them.</p> + +<p>"I am not at all tired," she said. "I am only sorry the journey is over. +I miss the noise."</p> + +<p>He made no further comment. He had a disconcerting habit of dropping +into sudden silences. It took possession of him now, and they finished +their refreshment with scarcely a word.</p> + +<p>Then Nina rose, holding her head very high. He embarrassed her, and she +strongly resented being embarrassed.</p> + +<p>Wingarde at once rose also. He looked more massive than usual, almost as +if braced for a particular effort.</p> + +<p>"Going already?" he said. "Good-night!"</p> + +<p>"Good-night!" said Nina.</p> + +<p>She glanced at him with momentary indecision. Then she held out her +hand.</p> + +<p>He took it and kept it.</p> + +<p>"I think you will have to kiss me on our wedding night," he said.</p> + +<p>She turned very white. The hunted look had returned to her eyes. She +answered him with the rapidity of desperation.</p> + +<p>"You can do as you like with me now," she said. "I am not able to +prevent you."</p> + +<p>"You mean you would rather not?" he said, without the smallest hint of +anger or disappointment in his tone.</p> + +<p>She started a little at the question. There was no escaping the +searching of his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Of course I would rather not," she said.</p> + +<p>He released her quivering hand and walked quietly to the door.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Nina!" he said, as he opened it.</p> + +<p>She stood for a moment before she realized that he had yielded to her +wish. Then, as he waited, she made a sudden impulsive movement towards +him.</p> + +<p>Her fingers rested for an instant on his arm.</p> + +<p>"Good-night—Hereford!" she said.</p> + +<p>He looked down at her hand, not offering to touch it. His lips relaxed +cynically.</p> + +<p>"Don't overwhelm me!" he said.</p> + +<p>And in a flash she had passed him with blazing eyes and a heart that was +full of fierce anger. So this was his reception of her first overture! +Her cheeks burnt as she vowed to herself that she would attempt no more.</p> + +<p>She did not see her husband again that night.</p> + +<p>When they met in the morning, he seemed to have forgotten that they had +parted in a somewhat strained atmosphere. The only peculiarity about +his greeting was that it did not seem to occur to him to shake hands.</p> + +<p>"There is plenty to do if you're feeling energetic," he said. 'Driving, +riding, mountaineering, boating; which shall it be?"</p> + +<p>"Have you no preference?" she asked, as she faced him over the +coffee-urn.</p> + +<p>He smiled slightly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have," he said. "But let me hear yours first!"</p> + +<p>"Driving," she said at once. "And now yours?"</p> + +<p>"Mine was none of these things," he answered. "I wonder what sort of +conveyance they can provide us with? Also what manner of horse? Are you +going to drive or am I? Mind, you are to state your preference."</p> + +<p>"Very well," she answered. "Then I'll drive, please, I know this country +a little. I stayed near here three years ago with the Nevilles. Archie +and I used to fish."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever catch anything?" Wingarde asked, with his quiet eyes on +her face.</p> + +<p>"Of course we did," she answered. "Salmon trout—beauties. Oh, and other +things. I forget what they were called. We had great fun, I remember."</p> + +<p>Her face flushed at the remembrance. Archie had been very romantic in +those days, quite foolishly so. But somehow she had enjoyed it.</p> + +<p>Wingarde said no more. He rose directly the meal was over. It was a +perfect summer morning. The view from the windows was exquisite. Beyond +the green stretches of the park rose peak after peak of sunlit +mountains. There were a few cloud-shadows floating here and there. In +one place, gleaming like a thread of silver, he could see a waterfall +tumbling down a barren hillside.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, through the summer silence, an octave of bells pealed +joyously.</p> + +<p>Nina started</p> + +<p>"Why, it's Sunday!" she exclaimed. "I had quite forgotten. We ought to +go to church."</p> + +<p>Wingarde turned round.</p> + +<p>"What an inspiration!" he said dryly.</p> + +<p>His tone offended her. She drew herself up.</p> + +<p>"Are you coming?" she asked coldly.</p> + +<p>He looked at her with the same cynical smile with which he had received +her overture the night before.</p> + +<p>"No," he said. "I won't bore you with my company this morning."</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"As you please," she said, turning to the door.</p> + +<p>He made no rejoinder. And as she passed out, she realized that he +believed she had suggested going to church in order to escape an hour of +his hated society. It was but a slight injustice and certainly not +wholly unprovoked by her. But, curiously, she resented it very strongly. +She almost felt as if he had insulted her.</p> + +<p>She found him smoking in the garden when she returned from her solitary +expedition, and she hoped savagely that he had found his own society as +distasteful as she did; though on second thoughts this seemed scarcely +possible.</p> + +<p>She decided regretfully, yet with an inner sense of expediency, that she +would spend the afternoon in his company. But her husband had other +plans.</p> + +<p>"You have had a hot walk," he said. "You had better rest this afternoon. +I am going to do a little mountaineering; but I mean to be back by +tea-time. Perhaps when it is cool you will come for a stroll, unless you +have arranged to attend the evening service also."</p> + +<p>He glanced at her and saw the indignant colour rise in her face. But she +was too proud to protest.</p> + +<p>"As you wish," she said coldly.</p> + +<p>Conversation during lunch was distinctly laboured. Wingarde's silences +were many and oppressive. It was an unspeakable relief to the girl when +at length he took himself off. She told herself with a wry smile that he +was getting on her nerves. She did not yet own that he frightened her.</p> + +<p>The afternoon's rest did her good; and when he returned she was ready +for him.</p> + +<p>He looked at her, as she sat in the garden before the tea-table in her +muslin dress and big straw hat, with a shade of approval in his eyes.</p> + +<p>He threw himself down into a chair beside her without speaking.</p> + +<p>"Have you been far?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"To the top of the hill," he answered. "I had a splendid view of the +sea."</p> + +<p>"It must have been perfect," she said.</p> + +<p>"You have been there?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," she answered, "long ago; with Archie."</p> + +<p>Wingarde turned his head and looked at her attentively. She tried to +appear unconscious of his scrutiny, and failed signally. Before she +could control it, the blood had rushed to her face.</p> + +<p>"And you found it worth doing?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The question seemed to call for no reply, and she made none.</p> + +<p>But yet again she felt as if he had insulted her.</p> + +<p>She was still burning with silent resentment when they started on their +walk. He strolled beside her, cool and unperturbed. If he guessed her +mood, he made no sign.</p> + +<p>"Where are you taking me?" he asked presently.</p> + +<p>"It is the road to the wishing-gate," she replied icily. "There is a +good view of the lake farther on."</p> + +<p>He made no further enquiry, and they walked on in dead silence through +exquisite scenery.</p> + +<p>They reached the wishing-gate, and the girl stopped almost +involuntarily.</p> + +<p>"Is this the fateful spot?" said Wingarde, coming suddenly out of his +reverie. "What is the usual thing to do? Cut our names on the gate-post? +Rather a low-down game, I always think."</p> + +<p>She uttered a sudden, breathless laugh. "My name is here already," she +said, pointing with a finger that shook slightly at some minute +characters cut into the second bar of the gate.</p> + +<p>He bent and looked at the inscription—two names cut with infinite care, +two minute hearts intertwined beneath.</p> + +<p>Nina watched him with a scornful little smile on her lips.</p> + +<p>"Artistic, isn't it?" she said.</p> + +<p>He straightened himself abruptly, and their eyes met. There was a +curious glint in his that she had never seen before. She put her hand +sharply to her throat. Quite suddenly she knew that she was afraid of +this monster to whom she had given herself—horribly, unreasonably +afraid.</p> + +<p>But he did not speak, and her scare began to subside.</p> + +<p>"Now I'm going to wish," she said mounting the lowest bar of the gate.</p> + +<p>He spoke then, abruptly, cynically.</p> + +<p>"Really," he said, "what can you have to wish for now?"</p> + +<p>She looked back at him defiantly. Her eyes were on a level with his. +Because he had frightened her, she went the more recklessly. It would +never answer to let him suspect this power of his.</p> + +<p>"Something that I'm afraid you will never give me," she said, a bitter +ring in her voice.</p> + +<p>"What?" he asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"Among other things, happiness," she said. "You can never give me +that."</p> + +<p>She saw him bite his lip, but he controlled himself to speak quietly.</p> + +<p>"Surely you make a mistake," he said, "to wish for something which, +since you are my wife, can never be yours!"</p> + +<p>She laughed, still standing on the gate, and telling herself that she +felt no fear.</p> + +<p>"Very well," she said, "I will wish for a Deliverer first."</p> + +<p>"For what?"</p> + +<p>His naked fist banged down upon the gate-post, and she saw the blood +start instantly and begin to flow. She knew in that moment that she had +gone too far.</p> + +<p>Her fear returned in an overwhelming flood. She stumbled off the gate +and faced him, white to the lips.</p> + +<p>A terrible pause followed, in which she knew herself to be fighting him +with every inch of her strength. Then suddenly, without apparent reason, +she gave in.</p> + +<p>"I was joking," she said, in a low voice. "I spoke in jest."</p> + +<p>He made her a curt bow, his face inflexibly stern.</p> + +<p>"It is good of you to explain," he said. "With my limited knowledge of +your character and motives, I am apt to make mistakes."</p> + +<p>He turned from her abruptly with the words, and, shaking the blood from +his hand, bound the wound with his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go on?" he said then.</p> + +<p>And Nina accompanied him, ashamed and afraid. She felt as if at the last +moment she had asked for quarter; and, contemptuously, because she was a +woman, he had given it.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Deliverer_IV'></a><h2>IV</h2> + +<h2>A GREVIOUS WOUND</h2> +<br /> + +<p>After that moment of madness by the wishing-gate Nina's wanton desire to +provoke to wrath the monster to whom she was chained died a sudden and +unnatural death. She was scrupulously careful of his feelings from that +day forward, and he treated her with a freezing courtesy, a cynical +consideration, that seemed to form a barrier behind which the actual man +concealed himself and watched.</p> + +<p>That he did watch her was a fact of which she was miserably conscious. +She knew with the certain knowledge of intuition that he studied her +continually. She was perpetually under the microscope of his criticism, +and there were times when she told herself she could not bear it. He was +too much for her; too pitiless a tyrant, too stern a master. Her life +was becoming insupportable.</p> + +<p>A fortnight of their honeymoon had passed away, when one morning +Wingarde looked up with a frown from a letter.</p> + +<p>"I have had a summons to town," he said abruptly.</p> + +<p>Nina's heart leapt at the words, and her relief showed itself for one +unmanageable second in her face.</p> + +<p>He saw it, and she knew he saw it.</p> + +<p>"I shall be sorry," he said, with cutting sarcasm, "to curtail your +enjoyment here, but the necessity for my presence is imperative. I +should like to catch the two-thirty this afternoon if you can be ready +by then."</p> + +<p>Nina's face was burning. She held herself very erect.</p> + +<p>"I can be ready before then if you wish," she said stiffly.</p> + +<p>He rose from the breakfast-table with a curt laugh. As he passed her he +flicked her cheek with the envelope he held in his hand.</p> + +<p>"You are a dutiful wife, my dear," he said.</p> + +<p>She winced sharply, and bent her head over her own letters.</p> + +<p>"I do my best," she said, after a moment.</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it," he responded dryly.</p> + +<p>He paused at the door as if he expected her to say more. More came, +somewhat breathlessly, and not upon the same subject.</p> + +<p>Nina glanced up with sudden resolution.</p> + +<p>"Hereford," she said, "can you let me have some money?"</p> + +<p>She spoke with the rapidity of nervousness. She saw his hand leave the +door. His face remained quite unmoved.</p> + +<p>"For yourself?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Considering the amount of the settlement he had made upon her, the +question was absurd. Nina smiled faintly.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, "not for myself."</p> + +<p>He took a cheque-book from his pocket and walked to a writing-table.</p> + +<p>"How much do you want?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She hesitated, and he looked round at her.</p> + +<p>"I—I only want to borrow it," she said haltingly. "It is rather a big +sum."</p> + +<p>"How much?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Five thousand pounds," she answered, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>He continued to look at her for several seconds. Finally he turned and +shut up his cheque-book with a snap.</p> + +<p>"The money will be placed to your credit to-morrow," he said. "But +though a financier, I am not a money-lender. Please understand that! And +let your family understand it, too."</p> + +<p>And, rising, he walked straight from the room.</p> + +<p>No further reference was made to the matter on either side. Nina's pride +or her courage shrank from any expression of gratitude.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon with intense thankfulness she travelled southward. +Never were London smoke and dust more welcome.</p> + +<p>They went straight to Wingarde's great house in Crofton Square. Dinner +was served immediately upon their arrival.</p> + +<p>"I must ask you to excuse me," Wingarde said, directly dessert was +placed upon the table. "I have to go out—on business. In case I don't +see you again, good-night!"</p> + +<p>He was on his feet as he spoke. In her surprise Nina started up also.</p> + +<p>"At this hour!" she exclaimed. "Why, it is nearly eleven!"</p> + +<p>"At this hour," he grimly responded, "you will be able to dispense with +my society no doubt."</p> + +<p>His tone silenced her. Yet, as he turned to go, she looked after him +with mute questioning in her eyes. She had a feeling that he was keeping +something from her, and—perhaps it was merely the natural result of +womanly curiosity baffled—she was vaguely hurt that he did not see fit +to tell her whither his business was taking him.</p> + +<p>A few words would have sufficed; but he had not chosen to utter them, +and her pride was sufficient to suppress any display of interest in his +affairs. She would not court the snub that she felt convinced he would +not hesitate to administer.</p> + +<p>So he left her without explanation, and Nina went drearily to bed. On +the following morning, however, the sun shone upon her, and she went +downstairs in better spirits.</p> + +<p>The first person she encountered was her husband. He was sauntering +about the morning-room in his overcoat, a cup of strong tea in his hand.</p> + +<p>He greeted her perfunctorily, as his fashion was.</p> + +<p>"Oh, good-morning!" he said. "I have only just got back. I was detained +unavoidably. I am going upstairs for an hour's rest, and then I shall +be off to the City. I don't know if you would care to drive in with me. +I shall use the car, but it will then be at your service for the rest of +the day."</p> + +<p>"Have you been working all night?" Nina asked incredulously.</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"It was unavoidable," he said again, with a touch of impatience. "You +had better have a second brew of tea, this is too strong for you."</p> + +<p>He set down his cup and rang the bell.</p> + +<p>Nina stood and looked at him. He certainly did not look like a man who +had been up all night. Alert, active, tough as wire, he walked back to +the table and gathered together his letters. A faint feeling of +admiration stirred in her heart. His, strength appealed to her for the +first time.</p> + +<p>"I should like to drive into the City with you," she said, after a +pause.</p> + +<p>He gave her a sharp glance.</p> + +<p>"I thought you would be wanting to go to the bank," he remarked coolly.</p> + +<p>She flushed and turned her back upon him. It was an unprovoked assault, +and she resented it fiercely.</p> + +<p>When they met again an hour later she was on the defensive, ready to +resist his keenest thrust, and, seeing it, he laughed cynically.</p> + +<p>"Armed to the teeth?" he asked, with a careless glance at her slim +figure and delicate face.</p> + +<p>She did not answer him by so much as a look. He handed her into the car +and took his seat beside her.</p> + +<p>"Can you manage to dine out with some of your people to-night?" he +asked. "I am afraid I shall not be home till late."</p> + +<p>"You seem to have a great deal on your hands," she remarked coldly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Wingarde.</p> + +<p>It was quite obvious that he had no intention of taking her into his +confidence, and Nina was stubbornly determined to betray no interest. +Then and there she resolved that since he chose to give himself up +entirely to the amassing of wealth, not hesitating to slight his wife in +the process, she also would live her separate life wholly independent of +his movements.</p> + +<p>She pretended to herself that she would make the most of it. But deep in +her heart she hated him for thus setting her aside. His action pierced +straight through her pride to something that sheltered behind it, and +inflicted a grevious wound.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Deliverer_V'></a><h2>V</h2> + +<h2>A STRUGGLE FOR MASTERY</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Jove! Here's a crush!" laughed Archie Neville. "Delighted to meet you +again, Mrs. Wingarde! How did you find the Lakes?"</p> + +<p>His good-looking, boyish face was full of pleasure. He had not expected +to meet her. Nina's welcoming smile was radiant.</p> + +<p>"Oh, here you are, Archie!" she exclaimed, as they shook hands. "Someone +said you were out of town, but I couldn't believe anything so tragic."</p> + +<p>"Quite right," said Archie. "Never believe the worst till there is +positively no alternative. I'm not out of town, and I'm not going to be. +It's awfully nice to see you again, you know! I thought the sun had set +for the rest of the season."</p> + +<p>Nina uttered a gay little laugh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no! We certainly intended to stay longer, but Hereford was +summoned back on business, and I really wasn't sorry on the whole. I did +rather regret missing all the fun."</p> + +<p>Archie laughed.</p> + +<p>"Hereford must be doing dark deeds then," he said, "of which he keeps +the rest of the world in complete ignorance. The markets are dead flat +just now—nothing doing whatever. It's enough to make you tear your +hair."</p> + +<p>"Really!" said Nina. "He gave me to understant that it was something +urgent."</p> + +<p>And then she became suddenly silent, meeting Archie's eyes, and aware of +the surprise he was too much of a gentleman to express. With a cold +feeling of dissatisfaction she turned from the subject.</p> + +<p>"It's very nice to be back again among my friends," she said. "Can't you +come and dine to-morrow and go to the theatre afterwards?"</p> + +<p>Archie considered a moment, and she knew that when he answered he was +cancelling other engagements.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, I shall be delighted!" he said, "if I shan't be <i>de trop</i>."</p> + +<p>There was a touch of mockery in Nina's smile.</p> + +<p>"We shall probably be alone," she said. "My husband's business keeps him +late in the City. We have been home a week, and he has only managed to +dine with me once."</p> + +<p>"Isn't he here to-night?" asked Archie.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"What an infernal shame!" he exclaimed impulsively. "Oh, I beg your +pardon! That was a slip."</p> + +<p>But Nina laid her hand on his sleeve.</p> + +<p>"You needn't apologize," she said, in a low voice. "One can't have +everything. If you marry—an outsider—for his money, you have to pay +the penalty."</p> + +<p>Archie looked at her with further indiscretion upon the tip of his +tongue. But he thought twice and kept it back.</p> + +<p>"I say, you know," he said awkwardly, "I—I'm sorry."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she said gently. "Well, you will come to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," he said. "What theatre shall we go to? I'll bring the +tickets with me."</p> + +<p>The conversation drifted away into indifferent topics and presently they +parted. Nina was almost gay of heart as she drove homeward that night. +She had begun to feel her loneliness very keenly, and Archie's society +promised to be of value.</p> + +<p>Her husband was waiting for her when she returned. As she entered her +own sitting-room, he started up abruptly from an arm-chair as if her +entrance had suddenly roused him from sleep. She was considerably +surprised to see him there, for he had never before intruded without her +permission.</p> + +<p>He glanced at the clock, but made no comment upon the lateness of the +hour.</p> + +<p>"I hope you have enjoyed yourself," he said somewhat formally.</p> + +<p>The words were as unexpected as was his presence there. Nina stood for a +moment, waiting for something further.</p> + +<p>Then, as he did not speak, she shrugged her shoulders and threw back her +cloak.</p> + +<p>"It was a tremendous crush," she said indifferently. "No, I didn't enjoy +it particularly. But it was something to do."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry you are feeling bored," he said gravely.</p> + +<p>Nina sat down in silence. She did not in the least understand what had +brought him there.</p> + +<p>"It is getting rather late," she remarked, after a pause. "I am just +going to have a cup of tea and then go to bed."</p> + +<p>A little tea-tray stood on the table at her elbow. A brass kettle was +fizzing cheerily above a spirit stove.</p> + +<p>"Do you want a cup?" she asked, with a careless glance upwards.</p> + +<p>He had remained standing, looking down at her with an expression that +puzzled her slightly. His eyes were heavy, as if they wanted sleep.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said.</p> + +<p>Nina threw off her wraps and sat up to brew the tea. The light from a +rose-shaded lamp poured full upon her. She looked superb and she knew +it. The knowledge deprived her for once of that secret sense of fear +that so brooded at the back of her intercourse with this man. He stood +in total silence behind her. She began to wonder what was coming.</p> + +<p>Having made tea, she leant back again with her hands behind her head.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we must give it two minutes to draw," she remarked, with a +smothered yawn. "Isn't it frightfully hot to-night? I believe there is +thunder about."</p> + +<p>He made no response, and she turned her eyes slowly upon him. She knew +he was watching her, but a curious sense of independence possessed her +that night. He did not disconcert her.</p> + +<p>Their eyes met. Hers were faintly insolent. His were inscrutable.</p> + +<p>At last he spoke.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry you have not enjoyed yourself," he said, speaking rather +stiffly. "Will you—by way of a change—come out with me to-morrow +night? I think I may anyhow promise you"—he paused slightly—"that you +shall not be bored."</p> + +<p>There was a short silence. Nina turned and moved the cups on the little +tray. She did not, however, seem embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"I happen to be engaged to-morrow evening," she said coldly at length.</p> + +<p>"Is it important?" he asked. "Can't you cancel the engagement?"</p> + +<p>She uttered a little, flippant laugh. She had not hoped for such an +opportunity as this.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I really can't," she said. "You should have asked me +earlier."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>There was a new note in his voice—a hint of mastery. She resented it +instantly.</p> + +<p>"That is my affair," she said calmly, beginning to pour out the tea.</p> + +<p>He looked at her as if he scarcely believed his ears. He was silent for +some seconds, and very quietly she turned to him and handed him a cup.</p> + +<p>He took it from her and instantly set it aside.</p> + +<p>"Be good enough to answer my question!" he said.</p> + +<p>She heard the gathering sternness in his tone, and, tea-cup in hand, she +laughed. A curious recklessness possessed her that night. She felt as if +she had the strength to fling off the bands of tyranny. But her heart +had begun to beat very fast. She realized that this was no mere +skirmish.</p> + +<p>"Why should I answer you?" she asked, helping herself to some more cream +with a hand that was slightly unsteady in spite of her effort to +control it. "I do not see the necessity."</p> + +<p>"I think you do," he rejoined.</p> + +<p>Nina said no more. She swallowed her tea, nibbled at a wafer with a +species of deliberate trifling calculated to proclaim aloud her utter +fearlessness, and at length rose to go.</p> + +<p>In that moment her husband stepped forward and took her by the +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Before you leave this room, please," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>She drew back from him in a blaze of indignant rebellion.</p> + +<p>"I will not!" she said. "Let me go instantly!"</p> + +<p>His hold tightened. His face was more grim than she had ever seen it. +His eyes seemed to beat hers down. Yet when he spoke he did not raise +his voice.</p> + +<p>"I have borne a good deal from you, Nina," he said. "But there is a +limit to every man's endurance."</p> + +<p>"You married me against my will," she panted. "Do you think I have not +had anything to endure, too?"</p> + +<p>"That accusation is false," he said. "You married me of your own accord. +Without my money, you would have passed me by with scorn. You know it."</p> + +<p>She began to tremble violently.</p> + +<p>"Do you deny that?" he insisted pitilessly.</p> + +<p>"At least you pressed me hard," she said.</p> + +<p>"I did," he replied. "I saw you meant to sell yourself. And I did not +mean you to go to any scoundrel."</p> + +<p>"So you bought me for yourself?" she said, with a wild laugh.</p> + +<p>"I did." Wingarde's voice trembled a little. "I paid your price," he +said, "and I have taken very little for it. You have offered me still +less. Now, Nina, understand! This is not going on for ever. I simply +will not bear it. You are my wife, sworn to obey me—and obey me you +shall."</p> + +<p>He held her fast in front of him. She could feel the nervous strength of +his hands. It thrilled her through and through. She felt like a trapped +animal in his grasp. Her resistance began to waver.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I am going to conquer you," he said grimly.</p> + +<p>"You won't do it by violence," she returned quickly.</p> + +<p>Her words seemed to pierce through a weak place in the iron armour in +which he had clad himself. Abruptly he set her free.</p> + +<p>The suddenness of his action so surprised her that she tottered a +little. He made a swift move towards her; but in a second she had +recovered herself, and he drew back. She saw that his face was very +pale.</p> + +<p>"Are you quite sure of that?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She did not answer him. Shaking from head to foot, she stood facing him. +But words would not come.</p> + +<p>After a desperate moment the tension was relaxed. He turned on his heel.</p> + +<p>"Well, I have warned you," he said, and strode heavily away.</p> + +<p>The moment she ceased to hear his footsteps, Nina sank down into a chair +and burst into tears.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Deliverer_VI'></a><h2>VI</h2> + +<h2>AN OFFER OF HELP</h2> +<br /> + +<p>On the following morning Nina did not descend the stairs till she had +heard the car leave the house. The strain of the previous night's +interview had told upon her. She felt that she had not the resolution to +face such another.</p> + +<p>The heat was intense. She remembered with regret that she had promised +to attend a charitable bazaar in the City that afternoon. Somehow she +could summon no relish either for that or the prospect of the theatre +with Archie at night. She wondered whither her husband had proposed to +take her, half wishing she had yielded a point to go.</p> + +<p>She went to the bazaar, fully prepared to be bored. The first person she +saw, however, was Archie, and at once the atmosphere seemed to lighten.</p> + +<p>He attached himself to her without a moment's delay.</p> + +<p>"I say," he said, "send your car back! I'll take you home. I've got my +hansom here. It's much more exciting than a motor. We'll go and have +tea somewhere presently."</p> + +<p>Nina hesitated for barely a second, then did as he required.</p> + +<p>Archie's eyes were frankly tender. But, after all, why not? They had +known each other all their lives. She laughed at the momentary scruple +as they strolled through the bazaar together.</p> + +<p>Archie bought her an immense fan—"to keep off the flies," as he +elegantly expressed it; and she made a few purchases herself as in duty +bound, and conversed with several acquaintances.</p> + +<p>Then, her companion becoming importunate for departure, she declined tea +in the hall and went away with him.</p> + +<p>Archie was enjoying himself hugely.</p> + +<p>"Now, where would you like to go for tea?" he asked as they drove away.</p> + +<p>"I don't care in the least," she said, "only I'm nearly dead. Let it be +somewhere close at hand."</p> + +<p>Archie promptly decided in favour of a tea-shop in St. Paul's +Churchyard.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you have read the morning papers?" he said, as they sat down. +"I thought your husband had something up his sleeve."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" queried Nina quickly. "No, I know nothing."</p> + +<p>Archie laughed.</p> + +<p>"Don't you really? Well, he has made a few thousands sit up, I can tell +you. You've heard of the Crawley gold fields? Heaven knows where they +are, but that doesn't matter—somewhere in Australia of course. No one +knew anything about them till recently. Well, they were boomed +tremendously a little while ago. Your husband was the prime mover. He +went in for them largely. Everyone went for them. They held for a bit, +then your husband began to sell as fast as he could. And then, of +course, the shares went down to zero. People waited a bit, then +sold—for what they could get. No one knew who did the buying till +yesterday. My dear Nina, your husband has bought the lot. He has got the +whole concern into his hands for next to nothing. The gold fields have +turned up trumps. They stand three times as high as they ever did +before. He was behind the scenes. He merely sold to create a slump. If +he chose to sell again he could command almost any price he cared to +ask. Well, one man's loss is another man's gain. But he's as rich as +Croesus. They say there are a good many who would like to be at his +throat."</p> + +<p>Nina listened with disgust undisguised on her face.</p> + +<p>"How I loathe money!" she said abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say!" protested Archie. "You're not such an extremist as that. +Think of the host of good things that can't be done without it."</p> + +<p>"What good things does he do?" she demanded contemptuously. "He simply +lives to heap up wealth."</p> + +<p>"You can't say for certain that he doesn't do a few decent things when +no one's looking," suggested Archie, who liked to be fair, even to those +for whom he felt no liking. "People—rich men like that—do, you know. +Why, only last night I heard of a man—he's a West End physician—who +runs a sort of private hospital somewhere in the back slums, and +actually goes and practises there when his consulting hours are over. +Pure philanthropy that, you know. And no one but the slummers any the +wiser. They say he's simply adored among them. They go to him in all +their troubles, physical or otherwise. That's only an instance. I don't +say your husband does that sort of thing. But he may."</p> + +<p>Nina uttered her bitter little laugh.</p> + +<p>"You always were romantic, Archie," she said. "But I'm afraid I'm past +the romantic age. Anyhow I'm an unbeliever."</p> + +<p>Archie gave her a keen look.</p> + +<p>"I say—" he said, and stopped.</p> + +<p>"Well?" Nina looked back at him questioningly.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," he said, colouring boyishly. "You won't like what I +was going to say. I think I won't say it."</p> + +<p>"You needn't consider my feelings," she returned, "I assure you I am not +used to it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," he said. "I was going to say that you talk as if he were a +beast to you. Is he?"</p> + +<p>Nina raised her dark eyebrows and did not instantly reply. Archie +looked away from her. He felt uncomfortably that he had gone too far.</p> + +<p>Then slowly she made answer:</p> + +<p>"No, he is not. I think he has begun to realize that the battle is not +always to the strong."</p> + +<p>Struck by something in her tone, Archie glanced at her again.</p> + +<p>"Jove!" he suddenly said. "How you hate him!"</p> + +<p>The words were out almost before he knew it. Nina's face changed +instantly. But Archie's contrition was as swift.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, forgive me!" he broke in, with a persuasive hand on her arm. +"Do, if you can! I know it was unpardonable of me. I'm so awfully sorry. +You see, I—"</p> + +<p>She interrupted hastily.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter—it doesn't matter. I understand. It was quite an +excusable mistake. Please don't look so distressed! It hasn't hurt me +much. I think it would have hurt me more if it had been literally true."</p> + +<p>The sentences ran out rapidly. She was as agitated as he. They had the +little recess to themselves, and their voices scarcely rose above a +whisper.</p> + +<p>"Then it wasn't true?" Archie said, with a look of relief.</p> + +<p>Nina drew back. She was not prepared to go as far as that. All her life +she had sought to be honest in her dealings.</p> + +<p>"It hasn't come actually to that yet," she said under her breath. "But +it may—it may."</p> + +<p>Somehow it relieved the burden that pressed upon her to be able to speak +thus openly to her life-long comrade. But Archie looked grieved, almost +shocked.</p> + +<p>"What will you do if it does?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I shall leave him," she said, her face growing hard. "I think he +understands that."</p> + +<p>There was a heavy silence between them. Then impulsively, with pure +generosity, Archie spoke.</p> + +<p>"Nina," he said, "if you should need—help—of any sort, you know—will +you count on me?"</p> + +<p>Nina hesitated for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Please!" said Archie gently.</p> + +<p>She bent her head.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she said. "I will."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Deliverer_VII'></a><h2>VII</h2> + +<h2>THE DELIVERER</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Half-an-hour later they went out again into the blazing sunshine.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of my hack?" Archie asked, as they drove away +westwards. "I got him at Tattersall's the other day. I haven't driven +him before to-day. He's a bit jumpy. But I like an animal that can jump, +don't you know."</p> + +<p>"I know you do," laughed Nina. "I believe that is purely why you haven't +started a motor yet. They can do everything that is vicious and +extraordinary except jump. But do you really like a horse to shy at +everything he passes? Look at him now! He doesn't like that hand-cart +with red paint."</p> + +<p>"He's an artist," grinned Archie. "It offends his eye; and no wonder. +Don't be alarmed, though! He won't do anything outrageous. My man knows +how to manage him."</p> + +<p>Nina leant back. She was not, as a rule, nervous, but, as Archie's new +purchase was forced protesting past the object of his fright, she was +conscious of a very decided feeling of uneasiness. The animal looked to +her vicious as well as alarmed.</p> + +<p>They got safely past the hand-cart, and a brief interval of tranquillity +followed as they trotted briskly down Ludgate Hill.</p> + +<p>"He won't have time to look at anything now," said Archie cheerfully.</p> + +<p>The words had scarcely left his lips when the tire of a stationary car +they were passing exploded with a report like a rifle shot. In a second +Archie's animal leapt into the air, struck the ground with all four +hoofs together—and bolted.</p> + +<p>"My man's got him," said Archie. "Sit still! Nothing's going to happen."</p> + +<p>He put his arm in front of Nina and gripped the farther side of the +hansom.</p> + +<p>But Nina had not the smallest intention of losing her head. During the +first few moments her sensations were more of breathless interest than +fear. Certainly she was very far from panic.</p> + +<p>She saw the roadway before them clear as if by magic before their +galloping advance. She heard shouts, warning cries, yells of excitement. +She also heard, very close to her, Archie's voice, swearing so evenly +and deliberately that she was possessed by an insane desire to laugh at +him. Above everything else, she heard the furious, frantic rhythm of the +flying hoofs before them. And yet somehow inexplicably she did not at +first feel afraid.</p> + +<p>They tore with a speed that seemed to increase momentarily straight down +the thoroughfare that a few seconds before had seemed choked with +traffic. They shaved by vans, omnibuses, hand-barrows. Houses and shops +seemed to whirl past them, like a revolving nightmare—ever the same, +yet somehow ever different. A train was thundering over the bridge as +they galloped beneath it. The maddened horse heard and stretched himself +to his utmost speed.</p> + +<p>And then came tragedy—- the tragedy that Nina always felt that she had +known from the beginning of that wild gallop must come.</p> + +<p>As they raced on to Ludgate Circus she had a momentary glimpse of a boy +on a bicycle traversing the street before them at right angles. Archie +ceased suddenly to swear. The reins that till then had been taut sagged +down abruptly. He made a clutch at them and failed to catch them. They +slipped away sideways and dragged on the ground.</p> + +<p>There came a shock, a piercing cry. Nina started forward for the first +time, but Archie flung his arms round her, holding her fast. Then they +were free of the obstacle and dashing on again.</p> + +<p>"Let me see!" she gasped. "Let me see!"</p> + +<p>They bumped against a curb and nearly overturned. Then one of their +wheels caught another vehicle. The hansom was whizzed half round, but +the pitiless hoofs still tore on and almost miraculously the worst was +still averted.</p> + +<p>Archie's hold was close and nearly suffocated her; but over his shoulder +Nina still managed to look ahead.</p> + +<p>And thus looking she saw the most wonderful, and the most terrifying, +episode of the whole adventure.</p> + +<p>She saw a man in faultless City attire leap suddenly from the footway to +the road in front of them. For a breathless instant she saw him poised +to spring, and in her heart there ran a sudden, choking sense of +anguished recognition. She shut her eyes and cowered in Archie's arms. +Deliverance was coming. She felt it in every nerve. But how? And by +whom?</p> + +<p>There came a jerk and a plunge, a furious, straining effort. The fierce +galloping ceased, yet they made still for a few yards a halting, +difficult progress.</p> + +<p>Then they stopped altogether, and she felt the shock of hoofs upon the +splashboard.</p> + +<p>Another moment and that, too, ceased. They stood still, and Archie's +arms relaxed.</p> + +<p>Nina lifted her head and saw her husband hatless in the road, his face +set and grim, his hands gripping the reins with a strength that +evidently impressed upon the runaway the futility of opposition. In his +eyes was a look that made her tremble.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Deliverer_VIII'></a><h2>VIII</h2> + +<h2>AFTER THE ACCIDENT</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"You had better go home in the car," Wingarde said. "It is waiting for +me in Fenwick Street. Mr. Neville, perhaps you will be good enough to +accompany my wife. Your animal is tame enough now. Your man will have no +difficulty with it, if he is to be found."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Exactly!" Archie said.</p> + +<p>He looked round vaguely. Nina was leaning on his arm. His man was +nowhere to be seen, having some minutes since abandoned a situation +which he had discovered to be beyond his powers to deal with.</p> + +<p>A crowd surrounded them, and a man at his elbow informed him that his +driver had thrown down the reins and jumped off before they were clear +of the railway bridge. Archie swallowed the comment upon this discreet +behaviour, that rose to his lips.</p> + +<p>A moment later Wingarde, who had seemed on the point of departure, +pushed his way hastily-back to him.</p> + +<p>"Never mind the hansom!" he said. "I believe your man has been hurt. I +will see to it. Just take my wife out of this, will you? I want to see +if that boy is alive or dead."</p> + +<p>He had turned again with the words, forcing his way through the crowd. +Nina pressed after him. She was as white as the dress she wore. There +was no holding her back. Archie could only accompany her.</p> + +<p>It was difficult to get through the gathering throng. When finally they +succeeded in doing so, they found Wingarde stooping over the unconscious +victim of the accident. He had satisfied himself that the boy lived, and +was feeling rapidly for broken bones.</p> + +<p>Becoming aware of Nina's presence, he looked up with a frown. Then, +seeing her piteous face, he refrained from uttering the curt rebuke that +had risen to his lips.</p> + +<p>"I want you to go home," he said. "I will do all that is necessary here. +Neville, take my wife home! The car is close at hand in Fenwick Street."</p> + +<p>"He isn't dead?" faltered Nina shakily.</p> + +<p>"No—certainly not." Wingarde's voice was confident.</p> + +<p>He turned from her to speak to a policeman; and Nina yielded to Archie's +hand on her arm. She was more upset than she had realized.</p> + +<p>Neither of them spoke during the drive westwards. Archie scowled a good +deal, but he gave no vent to his feelings.</p> + +<p>Arrived in Crofton Square, he would have taken his leave of her. But +Nina would not hear of this.</p> + +<p>"Please stay till Hereford comes!" she entreated. "You will want to know +what he has done. Besides, I want you."</p> + +<p>Archie yielded to pressure. No word was spoken by either in praise or +admiration of the man who had risked his life to save theirs. Somehow it +was a difficult subject between them.</p> + +<p>Nearly two hours later Wingarde arrived on foot. He reported Archie's +man only slightly the worse for his adventure.</p> + +<p>"It ought to have killed him," he said briefly. "But men of that sort +never are killed. I told him to drive back to stables. The horse was as +quiet as a lamb."</p> + +<p>"And the boy?" Nina asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the boy!" Wingarde said. "His case is more serious. He was taken to +the Wade Home. I went with him. I happen to know Wade."</p> + +<p>"That's the West End physician," said Archie. "He calls himself Wade, I +know, when he wants to be <i>incog</i>."</p> + +<p>"That's the man," said Wingarde. "But I am not acquainted with him as +the West End physician. He is purely a City acquaintance. Oh, are you +going, Neville? We shall see you again, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>It was not cordially spoken. Archie coloured and glanced at Nina.</p> + +<p>"You are coming to dinner, aren't you?" she said at once. "Please do! We +shall be alone. And you promised, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>Archie hesitated for a moment. Wingarde was looking at him piercingly.</p> + +<p>"I hope you won't allow my presence to interfere with any plans you may +have made for to-night's amusement," he remarked. "I shall be obliged to +go out myself after dinner."</p> + +<p>Archie drew himself up. Wingarde's tone stung.</p> + +<p>"You are very good," he said stiffly. "What do you say, Nina? Do you +feel up to the theatre?"</p> + +<p>Nina's colour also was very high. But her eyes looked softer than usual. +She turned to her husband.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you come, too, for once, Hereford?" she asked. "We were +thinking of the theatre. It—it would be nice if you came too."</p> + +<p>The falter in the last sentence betrayed the fact that she was nervous.</p> + +<p>Wingarde smiled faintly, contemptuously, as he made reply.</p> + +<p>"Really, that's very kind of you," he said. "But I am compelled to plead +a prior engagement. You will be home by midnight, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>Archie made an abrupt movement. For a second he hovered on the verge of +an indignant outburst. The man's manner, rather than his words, was +insufferable. But in that second he met Wingarde's eyes, and something +he saw there checked him. He pulled himself together and somewhat +awkwardly took his leave.</p> + +<p>Wingarde saw him off, with the scoffing smile upon his lips. When he +returned to the drawing-room Nina was on her feet, waiting for him. She +was still unusually pale, and her eyes were very bright. She wore a +restless, startled look, as though her nerves were on the stretch.</p> + +<p>Wingarde glanced at her.</p> + +<p>"You had better go and lie down till dinner," he said.</p> + +<p>Nina looked back at him. Her lips quivered a little, but when she spoke +her voice was absolutely steady. She held her head resolutely high.</p> + +<p>"I think Archie must have forgotten to thank you," she said, "for what +you did. But I have not. Will you accept my gratitude?"</p> + +<p>There was proud humility in her voice. But Wingarde only shrugged his +shoulders with a sneer.</p> + +<p>"Your gratitude would have been more genuine if you had been saved a +widow instead of a wife," he said brutally.</p> + +<p>She recoiled from him. Her eyes flashed furious indignation. She felt as +if he had struck her in the face. She spoke instantly and vehemently. +Her voice shook.</p> + +<p>"That is a poison of your own mixing," she said. "You know it!"</p> + +<p>"What! It isn't true?" he asked.</p> + +<p>He drew suddenly close to her. His eyes gleamed also with the gleam of +a smouldering fire. She saw that he was moved. She believed him to be +angry. Trembling, yet scornful, she held her peace.</p> + +<p>He gripped her wrists suddenly, bending his dark face close to hers.</p> + +<p>"If it isn't true—" he said, and stopped.</p> + +<p>She drew back from him with a startled movement. For an instant her eyes +challenged his. Then abruptly their fierce resistance failed. She turned +her face aside and burst into tears.</p> + +<p>In a moment she was free. Her husband stood regarding her with a very +curious look in his eyes. He watched her as she moved slowly away from +him, fighting fiercely, desperately, to regain her self-control. He saw +her sit down, leaving almost the length of the room between them, and +lean her head upon her hand.</p> + +<p>Then the man's arrested brutality suddenly reasserted itself, and he +strode to the door.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" he exclaimed as he went. "Don't I know that you pray for a +deliverer every night of your life? And what deliverer would you have if +not death—the surest of all—in your case positively the only one +within the bounds of possibility?"</p> + +<p>He was gone with the words, but she would not have attempted to answer +them had he stayed. Her head was bowed almost to her knees, and she sat +quite motionless, as if he had stabbed her to the heart.</p> + +<p>Later she dined alone with Archie in her husband's unexplained absence, +and later still, at the theatre, her face was as gay, her laugh as +frequent, as any there.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Deliverer_IX'></a><h2>IX</h2> + +<h2>THE END OF A MYSTERY</h2> +<br /> + +<p>On the following afternoon Nina went to the Wade Home to see the victim +of the accident. She was received by the matron, a middle-aged, kindly +woman, who was openly pleased with the concern her visitor exhibited.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's better," she said, "much better. But I'm afraid I can't let +you see him now, as he is asleep. Dr. Wade examined him himself +yesterday. And he was here again this morning. His opinion is that the +spine has been only bruised. While unconsciousness lasted, it was, of +course, difficult to tell. But the patient became conscious this +morning, and Dr. Wade said he was very well pleased with him on the +whole. He thinks we shall not have him very long. He's a bright little +chap and thoroughly likes his quarters. His father is a dock labourer. +Everyone knows the Wade Home, and all the patients consider themselves +very lucky to be here. You see, the doctor is such a favourite wherever +he goes."</p> + +<p>"I have never met Dr. Wade," Nina said. "I suppose he is a great man?"</p> + +<p>The matron's jolly face glowed with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"He is indeed," she said—"a splendid man. You probably know him by +another name. They say he is a leading physician in the West End. But we +City people know him and love him by his assumed name only. Why, only +lately he cut short his holiday on purpose to be near one of his +patients who was dying. If you could manage to come to-morrow afternoon +after four o'clock, no doubt you would see him. It is visiting-day, and +he is always here on Sunday afternoons between three and six in case the +visitors like to see him. I should be delighted to give you some tea. +And you could then see the little boy."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," Nina said. "I will."</p> + +<p>That evening she chanced to meet Archie Neville at a friend's +dinner-table and imparted to him her purpose.</p> + +<p>"Jove!" he said. "Good idea! I'll come with you, shall I?"</p> + +<p>"Please not in the hansom!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," returned Archie. "But you needn't be nervous. I've +sacked that man. No matter! We'll go in a wheelbarrow if you think +that'll be safer."</p> + +<p>Nina laughed and agreed to accept his escort. Archie's society was a +very welcome distraction just then.</p> + +<p>To her husband she made no mention of her intention. She had established +the custom of going her own way at all times. It did not even cross her +mind to introduce the subject. He was treating her with that sarcastic +courtesy of his which was so infinitely hard to bear. It hurt her +horribly, and because of the pain she avoided him as much as she dared.</p> + +<p>She did not know how he spent his time on Sundays. Except for his +presence at luncheon she found she was left as completely to her own +devices as on other days.</p> + +<p>She had agreed to drive Archie to the Wade Home in her husband's +landaulette.</p> + +<p>Wingarde left the house before three and she was alone when Archie +arrived.</p> + +<p>The latter looked at her critically.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she returned instantly. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"You're looking off colour," he said.</p> + +<p>Nina turned from him impatiently.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing the matter with me," she said. "Shall we start?"</p> + +<p>Archie said no more. But he glanced at her curiously from time to time. +He wondered privately if her husband's society were driving her to that +extreme which she had told him she might reach eventually.</p> + +<p>Visitors were being admitted to the Wade Home when they arrived. They +were directed to the ward where lay the boy in whom they were +interested. Nina presented him with flowers and a book, and sat for some +time talking with him. The little fellow was hugely flattered by her +attentions, though too embarrassed to express his pleasure in words. +Archie amused himself by making pennies appear and disappear in the +palms of his hands for the benefit of a sad-faced urchin in the next bed +who had no visitors.</p> + +<p>In the midst of this the matron bustled in to beg Nina and her companion +to take a cup of tea in her room.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Wade is here and sure to come in," she said. "I should like you to +meet him."</p> + +<p>Nina accordingly took leave of her <i>protégé</i>, and, followed by Archie, +repaired to the matron's room.</p> + +<p>The windows were thrown wide open, for the afternoon was hot. They sat +down, feeling that tea was a welcome sight.</p> + +<p>"I have a separate brew for Dr. Wade," said the matron cheerily. "He +likes it so very strong. He almost always takes a cup. There! I hear him +coming now."</p> + +<p>There sounded a step in the passage and a man's quiet laugh. Nina +started slightly.</p> + +<p>A moment later a voice in the doorway said:</p> + +<p>"Ah! Here you are, Mrs. Ritchie! I have just been prescribing a piece of +sugar for this patient of ours. Her mother is waiting to take her away."</p> + +<p>Nina was on her feet in an instant. All the blood seemed to rush to her +heart. Its throbs felt thick and heavy. On the threshold her husband +stood, looking full at her. In his arms was a little child.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Wade!" smiled the matron. "You do spoil your patients, sir. There! +Let me take her! Please come in! Your tea is just ready. I was just +talking about you to Mrs. Wingarde, who came to see the boy who was +knocked down by a hansom last week. Madam, this is Dr. Wade."</p> + +<p>She went forward to lift the child out of Wingarde's arms. There +followed a silence, a brief, hard-strung silence. Nina stood quite +still. Her hands were unconsciously clasped together. She was white to +the lips. But she kept her eyes raised to Wingarde's face. He seemed to +be looking through her, and in his eyes was that look with which he had +regarded her when he had saved her life and Archie's two days before.</p> + +<p>He spoke almost before the matron had begun to notice anything unusual +in the atmosphere.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said, with a slight bow. "You know me under different +circumstances—you and Mr. Neville. You did not expect to meet me here?"</p> + +<p>Archie glanced at Nina and saw her agitation. He came coolly forward and +placed himself in the breach.</p> + +<p>"We certainly didn't," he said. "It's good sometimes to know that people +are not all they seem. I congratulate you, er—Dr. Wade."</p> + +<p>Wingarde turned his attention to his wife's companion. His face was very +dark.</p> + +<p>"Take the child to her mother, please, Mrs. Ritchie!" he said curtly, +over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>The matron departed discreetly, but at the door the child in her arms +began to cry.</p> + +<p>Wingarde turned swiftly, took the little one's face between his hands, +spoke a soft word, and kissed it.</p> + +<p>Then, as the matron moved away, he walked back into the room, closing +the door behind him. All the tenderness with which he had comforted the +wailing baby had vanished from his face.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Neville," he said shortly, "my wife will return in the car with me. +I will relieve you of your attendance upon her."</p> + +<p>Archie turned crimson, but he managed to control himself—more for the +sake of the girl who stood in total silence by his side than from any +idea of expediency.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," he said, "if Mrs. Wingarde also prefers that arrangement."</p> + +<p>Nina glanced at him. He saw that her lip was quivering painfully. She +did not attempt to speak.</p> + +<p>Archie turned to go. But almost instantly Wingarde's voice arrested him.</p> + +<p>"I can give you a seat in the car if you wish," he said. He spoke with +less sternness, but his face had not altered.</p> + +<p>Archie stopped. Again for Nina's sake he choked back his wrath and +accepted the churlishly proffered amendment.</p> + +<p>Wingarde drank his tea, strolling about the room. He did not again +address his wife directly.</p> + +<p>As for Nina, though she answered Archie when he spoke to her, it was +with very obvious effort. She glanced from time to time at her husband +as if in some uncertainty. Finally, when they took leave of the matron +and went down to the car she seemed to hail the move with relief.</p> + +<p>Throughout the drive westwards scarcely a word was spoken. At the end of +the journey Archie turned deliberately and addressed Wingarde. His face +was white and dogged.</p> + +<p>"I should like a word with you in private," he said.</p> + +<p>Wingarde looked at him for a moment as if he meant to refuse. Then +abruptly he gave way.</p> + +<p>"I am at your service," he said formally.</p> + +<p>And Archie marched into the house in Nina's wake.</p> + +<p>In the hall Wingarde touched his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Come into the smoking-room!" he said quietly.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Deliverer_X'></a><h2>X</h2> + +<h2>TAKEN TO TASK</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"I want to know what you mean," said Archie.</p> + +<p>He stood up very straight, with the summer sunlight full in his face, +and confronted Nina's husband without a hint of dismay in his bearing.</p> + +<p>Wingarde looked at him with a very faint smile on his grim lips.</p> + +<p>"You wish to take me to task?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I do," said Archie decidedly.</p> + +<p>"For what in particular? The innocent deception practised upon an +equally innocent public? Or for something more serious than that?"</p> + +<p>There was an unmistakable ring of sternness behind Wingarde's +deliberately scoffing tone.</p> + +<p>Archie answered him instantly, with the quickness of a man who fights +for his honour.</p> + +<p>"For something more serious," he said. "It's nothing to me what fool +trick you may choose to play for your own amusement. But I am not going +to swallow an insult from you or any man. I want an explanation for +that."</p> + +<p>Wingarde stood with his back to the light and looked at him.</p> + +<p>"In what way have I insulted you?" he said.</p> + +<p>"You implied that I was not a suitable escort for your wife," Archie +said, forcing himself to speak without vehemence.</p> + +<p>Wingarde raised his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"I apologize if I was too emphatic," he said, after a moment. "But, +considering the circumstances, I am forced to tell you that I do not +consider you a suitable escort for my wife."</p> + +<p>"What circumstances?" said Archie. He clenched his hands abruptly, and +Wingarde saw it.</p> + +<p>"Please understand," he said curtly, "that I will listen to you only so +long as you keep your temper! I believe that you know what I mean—what +circumstances I refer to. If you wish me to put them into plain language +I will do so. But I don't think you will like it."</p> + +<p>Archie pounced upon the words.</p> + +<p>"You would probably put me to the trouble of calling you a liar if you +did," he said, in a shaking voice. "I have no more intention than you +have of mincing matters. As to listening to me, you shall do that in any +case. I am going to tell you the truth, and I mean that you shall hear +it."</p> + +<p>He strode to the door as he spoke, and locked it, pocketing the key.</p> + +<p>Wingarde did not stir to prevent him. He waited with a sneer on his lips +while Archie returned and took up his stand facing him.</p> + +<p>"You seem very sure of yourself," he said in a quiet tone.</p> + +<p>"I am," Archie said doggedly. "Absolutely sure. You think I am in love +with your wife, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Wingarde frowned heavily.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to throw dust in my eyes?" he asked contemptuously.</p> + +<p>Archie locked his hands behind him.</p> + +<p>"I am going to tell you the truth," he said again, and, though his voice +still shook perceptibly there was dignity in his bearing. "Three years +ago I was in love with her."</p> + +<p>"Calf love?" suggested Wingarde carelessly.</p> + +<p>"You may call it what you like," Archie rejoined. "That is to say, +anything honourable. I was hard hit three years ago, and it lasted off +and on till her marriage to you. But she never cared for me in the same +way. That I know now. I proposed to her twice, and she refused me."</p> + +<p>"You weren't made of money, you see," sneered Wingarde.</p> + +<p>Archie's fingers gripped each other. He had never before longed so +fiercely to hurl a blow in a man's face.</p> + +<p>"If I had been," he said, "I am not sure that I should have made the +running with you in the field. That brings me to what I have to say to +you. I wondered for a long time how she brought herself to marry you. +When you came back from your honeymoon I began to understand. She +married you for your money; but if you had chosen, she would have +married you for love."</p> + +<p>He blurted out the words hastily, as though he could not trust himself +to pause lest he should not say them.</p> + +<p>Wingarde stood up suddenly to his full height. For once he was taken +totally by surprise and showed it. He did not speak, however, and Archie +blundered on:</p> + +<p>"I am not your friend. I don't say this in any way for your sake. But—I +am her's—- her friend, mind you. I don't say I haven't ever flirted +with her. I have. But I have never said to her a single word that I +should be ashamed to repeat to you—not one word. You've got to believe +that whether you want to or not."</p> + +<p>He paused momentarily. The frown had died away from Wingarde's face, but +his eyes were stern. He waited silently for more. Archie proceeded with +more steadiness, more self-assurance, less self-restraint.</p> + +<p>"You've treated her abominably," he said, going straight to the point. +"I don't care what you think of me for saying so. It's the truth. You've +deceived her, neglected her, bullied her. Deny it if you can! Oh, no, +this isn't what she has told me. It has been as plain as daylight. I +couldn't have avoided knowing it. You made her your wife, Heaven knows +why. You probably cared for her in your own brutal fashion. But you have +never taken the trouble to make her care for you. You never go out with +her. You never consider her in any way. You see her wretched, ill +almost, under your eyes; and instead of putting it down to your own +confounded churlishness, you turn round and insult me for behaving +decently to her. There! I have done. You can kick me out of the house as +soon as you like. But you won't find it so easy to forget what I've +said. You know in your heart that it's the truth."</p> + +<p>Archie ended his vigorous speech with the full expectation of being made +to pay the penalty by means of a damaged skin.</p> + +<p>Wingarde's face was uncompromising. It told nothing of his mood during +the heavy silence that followed. It was, therefore, a considerable +shock when he abruptly surrendered the citadel without striking a single +blow.</p> + +<p>"I am much obliged to you, Neville," he said very quietly. "And I beg to +apologize for a most unworthy suspicion. Will you shake hands?"</p> + +<p>Archie tumbled off his high horse with more speed than elegance. He +thrust out his hand with an inarticulate murmur of assent. Perhaps after +all the fellow had been no worse than an unmannerly bear. The next +minute he was discussing politics with the monster he had dared to beard +in his own den.</p> + +<p>When Nina saw her husband again he treated her with a courtesy so +scrupulous that she felt the miserable scourge of her uncertainty at +work again. She would have given much to have possessed the key to his +real feelings. With regard to his establishment of the Wade Home, he +gave her the briefest explanation. He had been originally intended for a +doctor, he said, had passed his medical examinations, and been qualified +to practise. Then, at the last minute, a chance opening had presented +itself, and he had gone into finance instead.</p> + +<p>"After that," he somewhat sarcastically said, "I gave myself up to the +all absorbing business of money-making. And doctoring became merely my +fad, my amusement, my recreation—whatever you please to call it."</p> + +<p>"I wish you had told me," Nina said, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>At which remark he merely shrugged his shoulders, making no rejoinder.</p> + +<p>She felt hurt by his manner and said no more. Only later there came to +her the memory of the man she feared, standing in the doorway of the +matron's room with a little child in his arms. Somehow that picture was +very vividly impressed upon her mind.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Deliverer_XI'></a><h2>XI</h2> + +<h2>MONEY'S NOT EVERYTHING</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"What! You are coming too?"</p> + +<p>Nina stopped short on her way to the car and gazed at her husband in +amazement.</p> + +<p>He had returned early from the City, and she now met him dressed to +attend a garden-party whither she herself was going.</p> + +<p>He bent his head in answer to her surprised question.</p> + +<p>"I shall give myself the pleasure of accompanying you," he said, with +much formality.</p> + +<p>She coloured and bit her lip. Swift as evil came the thought that he +resented her intimacy with Archie and was determined to frustrate any +attempt on their part to secure a <i>tête-à-tête</i>.</p> + +<p>"You take great care of me," she said, with a bitter little smile.</p> + +<p>Wingarde made no response; his face was quite inscrutable.</p> + +<p>They scarcely spoke during the drive, and she kept her face averted. +Only when he held out his hand to assist her to alight she met his eye +for an instant and wondered vaguely at the look he gave her.</p> + +<p>The party was a large one; the lawns were crowded. Nina took the first +opportunity that offered to slip away from him, for she felt hopelessly +ill at ease in his company. The sensation of being watched that had +oppressed her during her brief honeymoon had reawakened.</p> + +<p>Archie presently joined her.</p> + +<p>"Did I see the hero of the Crawley gold field just now?" he asked. "Or +was it hallucination?"</p> + +<p>Nina looked at him with a very bored expression.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, my husband is here," she said. "I suppose you had better not +stay with me or he will come up and be rude to you."</p> + +<p>Archie chuckled.</p> + +<p>"Not he! We understand one another," he said lightly. "But, I say, what +an impostor the fellow is! Everyone knows about Dr. Wade, but no one +connects him in the smallest degree with Hereford Wingarde. It shouldn't +be allowed to go on. You ought to tell the town-crier."</p> + +<p>Nina tried to laugh, but it was a somewhat dismal effort.</p> + +<p>"Come along!" said Archie cheerily. "There's my mother over there; she +has been wondering where you were."</p> + +<p>Nina went with him with a nervous wonder if Hereford were still watching +her, but she saw nothing of him.</p> + +<p>The afternoon wore away in music and gaiety. A great many of her +acquaintances were present, and to Nina the time passed quickly.</p> + +<p>She was sitting in a big marquee drinking the tea that Archie had +brought her when she next saw her husband. By chance she discovered him +talking with a man she did not know, not ten yards from her. The tent +was fairly full, and the buzz of conversation was continuous.</p> + +<p>Nina glanced at him from time to time with a curious sense of +uneasiness, and an unaccountable desire to detach him from his +acquaintance grew gradually upon her.</p> + +<p>The latter was a heavy-browed man with queer, furtive eyes. As Nina +stealthily watched them she saw that this man was restless and agitated. +Her husband's face was turned from her, but his attitude was one of +careless ease, into which his big limbs dropped when he was at leisure.</p> + +<p>Later she never knew by what impulse she acted. It was as if a voice +suddenly cried aloud in her heart that Wingarde was in deadly danger. +She gave Archie her cup and rose.</p> + +<p>"Just a moment!" she said hurriedly. "I see Hereford over there."</p> + +<p>She moved swiftly in the direction of the two men. There was disaster +in the air. She seemed to breathe it as she drew near. Her husband +straightened himself before she reached him, and half turned with his +contemptuous laugh. The next instant Nina saw his companion's hand whip +something from behind him. She shrieked aloud and sprang forward like a +terrified animal. The man's eyes maddened her more than the deadly +little weapon that flashed into view in his right hand.</p> + +<p>There followed prompt upon her cry the sharp explosion of a +revolver-shot, and then the din of a panic-stricken crowd.</p> + +<p>But Nina did not share the panic. She had flung herself in front of her +husband, had flung her whole weight upon the upraised arm that had +pointed the revolver and borne it downwards with all her strength. Those +who saw her action compared it later with the furious attack of a +tigress defending her young.</p> + +<p>It was all over in a few brief seconds. Men crowded round and +overpowered her adversary. Someone took the frenzied girl by the +shoulders and forced her to relinquish her clutch.</p> + +<p>She turned and looked straight into Wingarde's face, and at the sight +her nerves gave way and she broke into hysterical sobbing, though she +knew that he was safe.</p> + +<p>He put his arm around her and led her from the stifling tent. People +made way for them. Only their hostess and Archie Neville followed.</p> + +<p>Outside on the lawn, away from the buzzing multitude, Nina began to +recover herself. Archie brought a chair, and she dropped into it, but +she held fast to Wingarde's arm, beseeching him over and over again not +to leave her.</p> + +<p>Wingarde stooped over her, supporting her; but he found nothing to say +to her. He briefly ordered Archie to fetch some water, and made request +to his hostess, almost equally brief, that their car might be called in +readiness for departure. But his manner was wholly free from agitation.</p> + +<p>"My wife will recover better at home," he said, and the lady of the +house went away with a good deal of tact to give the order herself.</p> + +<p>Left alone with him, Nina still clung to her husband; but she grew +rapidly calmer in his quiet hold. After a moment he spoke to her.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how you knew," he said.</p> + +<p>Nina leant her head against him like an exhausted child.</p> + +<p>"I saw it coming," she said. "It was in his eyes—mad hatred. I knew he +was going to—to kill you if he could."</p> + +<p>She did not want to meet his eyes, but he gently compelled her.</p> + +<p>"And so you saved my life," he said in a quiet tone.</p> + +<p>"I had to," she said faintly.</p> + +<p>Archie here reappeared with a glass of water.</p> + +<p>"The fellow is in a fit," he reported. "They are taking him away. Jove, +Wingarde! You ought to be a dead man. If Nina hadn't spoilt that shot—"</p> + +<p>Nina was shuddering, and he broke off.</p> + +<p>"You'd better give up cornering gold fields," he said lightly. "It seems +he was nearly ruined over your last <i>coup</i>. You may do that sort of +thing once too often, don't you know. I shouldn't chance another throw."</p> + +<p>Nina stood up shakily and looked at her husband.</p> + +<p>"If you only would give it up!" she said, with trembling vehemence. +"I—I hate money!"</p> + +<p>Wingarde made no response; but Archie instantly took her up.</p> + +<p>"You only hate money for what it can't buy," he said. "You probably +expect too much from it. Don't blame money for that."</p> + +<p>Nina uttered a tremulous laugh that sounded strangely passionate.</p> + +<p>"You're quite right," she said. "Money's not everything. I have weighed +it in the balance and found it wanting."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Wingarde said in a peculiar tone. "And so have I."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Deliverer_XII'></a><h2>XII</h2> + +<h2>AFTERWARDS—LOVE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>An overwhelming shyness possessed Nina that night. She dined alone with +her husband, and found his silences even more oppressive than usual. +Yet, when she rose from the table, an urgent desire to keep him within +call impelled her to pause.</p> + +<p>"Shall you be late to-night?" she asked him, stopping nervously before +him, as he stood by the open door.</p> + +<p>"I am not going out to-night," he responded gravely."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Nina hesitated still. She was trembling slightly. "Then—I shall +see you again?" she said.</p> + +<p>He bent his head.</p> + +<p>"I shall be with you in ten minutes," he replied.</p> + +<p>And she passed out quickly.</p> + +<p>The night was still and hot. She went into her own little sitting-room +and straight to the open window. Her heart was beating very fast as she +stood and looked across the quiet square. The roar of London hummed +busily from afar. She heard it as one hears the rushing of unseen water +among the hills.</p> + +<p>There was no one moving in the square. The trees in the garden looked +dim and dreamlike against a red-gold sky.</p> + +<p>Suddenly in the next house, from a room with an open window, there rose +the sound of a woman's voice, tender as the night. It reached the girl +who stood waiting in the silence. The melody was familiar to her, and +she leant forward breathlessly to catch the words:</p> + +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<span>Shadows and mist and night,<br /></span> +<span class='i2'>Darkness around the way;<br /></span> +<span>Here a cloud and there a star;<br /></span> +<span class='i2'>Afterwards, Day!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There came a pause and the soft notes of a piano. Nina stood with +clasped hands, waiting for the second verse. Her cheeks were wet.</p> + +<p>It came, slow and exquisitely pure, as if an angel had drawn near to the +turbulent earth with a message of healing:</p> + +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<span>Sorrow and grief and tears,<br /></span> +<span class='i2'>Eyes vainly raised above;<br /></span> +<span>Here a thorn and there a rose;<br /></span> +<span class='i2'>Afterwards, Love!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Nina turned from the open window. She was groping, for her eyes were +full of tears. From the doorway a man moved quietly to meet her.</p> + +<p>"Hereford!" she said in a broken whisper, and went straight into his +arms.</p> + +<p>He held her fast, so fast that she felt his heart beating against her +bowed head. But it was many seconds before he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember the wishing-gate, Nina?" he said, speaking softly. "And +how you asked for a Deliverer?"</p> + +<p>She stretched up her arms to clasp his neck without lifting her head. +She was crying and could not answer him.</p> + +<p>He put his hand upon her hair and she felt it tremble.</p> + +<p>"Has the Deliverer come to you, dear?" he asked her very tenderly.</p> + +<p>He felt for her face in the darkness, and turned it slowly upwards. She +did not resist him though she knew well what was coming. Rather she +yielded to his touch with a sudden, passionate willingness. And so their +lips met in the first kiss that had ever passed between them.</p> + +<p>Thus there came a Deliverer more potent than death into the heart of the +girl who had married for money, and made its surrender sweet.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='The_Prey_of_the_Dragon'></a><h2>The Prey of the Dragon</h2> + +<h2>I</h2> +<br /> + +<center> + <a href='#Dragon_II'><b>II,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_III'><b> III,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_IV'><b> IV,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_V'><b> V,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_VI'><b> VI,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_VII'><b> VII,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_VIII'><b> VIII,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_IX'><b> IX,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_X'><b> X,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_XI'><b> XI,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_XII'><b> XII,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_XIII'><b> XIII,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_XIV'><b> XIV,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_XV'><b> XV,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_XVI'><b> XVI,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_XVII'><b> XVII,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_XVIII'><b> XVIII,</b></a> + <a href='#Dragon_XIX'><b> XIX</b></a> +</center> +<br /><br /><br /> +<p>"Ah! She's off!"</p> + +<p>A deafening blast came from the great steamship's siren, and a long sigh +went up from the crowd upon the quay. Someone raised a cheer that was +quickly drowned in the noise of escaping steam. Very slowly, almost +imperceptibly, the vessel began to move.</p> + +<p>A black gap appeared, and widened between her and the wharf till it +became a stretch of grey water veiled in the dank fog of a murky sea. +The fog was everywhere, floating in wreaths upon the oily swell, +blotting out all distant objects, making vague those that were near. +Very soon the crowd on the shore was swallowed up and the great vessel +was heading for the mouth, of the harbour and the wide loneliness +beyond.</p> + +<p>Sybil Denham hid her face in her hands for a moment and shivered. There +was something terrible to her in the thought of those thousands of miles +to be traversed alone. It cowed her. It appalled her.</p> + +<p>Yet when she looked up again her eyes were brave. She stood committed +now to this great step, and she was resolved to take it with a high +courage. Whatever lay before her, she must face it now without +shrinking. Yet it was horribly lonely. She turned from the deck-rail +with nervous haste.</p> + +<p>The next instant she caught her foot against a coil of rope and fell +headlong, with a violence that almost stunned her. A moment she lay, +then, gasping, began to raise herself.</p> + +<p>But as she struggled to her knees strong hands lifted her, and a man's +voice said gruffly:</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt?"</p> + +<p>She found herself in the grasp of a powerful giant with the physique of +a prize-fighter and a dark face with lowering brows that seemed to wear +an habitual scowl.</p> + +<p>She was too staggered to speak; the fall had unnerved her. She put her +hand vaguely behind her, feeling for the rail, looking up at him with +piteous, quivering lips.</p> + +<p>"You should look where you are going," he said, with scant sympathy. +"Perhaps you will another time."</p> + +<p>She found the rail, leaned upon it, then turned her back upon him +suddenly and burst into tears which she was too shaken to restrain. She +thought he would go away, hoped that he would; but he remained, standing +in stolid silence till she managed in a measure to regain her +self-control.</p> + +<p>"Where did you hurt yourself?" he asked then.</p> + +<p>She struggled with herself, and answered him. "I—I am not hurt."</p> + +<p>"Then what are you crying for?"</p> + +<p>The words sounded more like a rude retort than a question.</p> + +<p>She found them unanswerable, and suddenly, while she still stood +battling with her tears, something in the utterance touched her sense of +humour. She gulped down a sob, and gave a little strangled laugh.</p> + +<p>"I don't quite know," she said, drying her eyes. "Thank you for picking +me up."</p> + +<p>"I should have tumbled over you if I hadn't," he responded.</p> + +<p>Again her sense of humour quivered, finally dispelling all desire to +cry. She turned a little.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you didn't!" she said with fervour.</p> + +<p>"So am I."</p> + +<p>The curt rejoinder cut clean through her depression. She broke into a +gay, spontaneous laugh.</p> + +<p>But the next instant she checked herself and apologized.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me! I'm very rude."</p> + +<p>"What's the joke?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She answered him in a voice that still quivered a little with suppressed +merriment.</p> + +<p>"There isn't a joke. I—I often laugh at nothing. It's a silly habit of +mine."</p> + +<p>His moody silence seemed to endorse this remark. She became silent also, +and after a moment made a shy movement to depart.</p> + +<p>He turned then and looked at her, looked full and straight into her +small, sallow face, with its shadowy eyes and pointed features, as if he +would register her likeness upon his memory.</p> + +<p>She gave him a faint, friendly smile.</p> + +<p>"I'm going below now," she said. "Good-bye!"</p> + +<p>He raised his hat abruptly. His head was massive as a bull's.</p> + +<p>"Mind how you go!" he said briefly.</p> + +<p>And Sybil went, feeling like a child that has been rebuked.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_II'></a><h2>II</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Do you always walk along with your eyes shut?" asked Brett Mercer.</p> + +<p>Sybil gave a great start, and saw him lounging immediately in her path. +The days that had elapsed since their first meeting had placed them upon +a more or less intimate footing. He had assumed the right to speak to +her from the outset—this giant who had picked her up like an infant and +scolded her for crying.</p> + +<p>It was a hot morning in the Indian Ocean. She had not slept during the +night, and she was feeling weary and oppressed. But, with a woman's +instinctive reserve, she forced a hasty smile. She would not have +stopped to speak had he not risen and barred her progress.</p> + +<p>"Sit here!" he said.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him with refusal on her lips; but he forestalled her +by laying an immense hand on her shoulder and pressing her down into the +chair he had just vacated. This accomplished, he turned and hung over +the rail in silence. It seemed to be the man's habit at all times to do +rather than to speak.</p> + +<p>Sybil sat passive, feeling rather helpless, dumbly watching the great +lounging figure, and wondered how she should escape without hurting his +feelings.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, without turning his head, he spoke to her.</p> + +<p>"I suppose if I ask what's the matter you'll tell me to go to the +devil."</p> + +<p>The remark, though characteristic, was totally unexpected. Sybil stared +at him for a moment. Then, as once before, his rude address set her +sense of humour a-quivering. Depressed, miserable though she was, she +began to laugh.</p> + +<p>He turned, and looked at her sideways.</p> + +<p>"No doubt I am very funny," he observed dryly.</p> + +<p>She checked herself with an effort.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know I'm horrid to laugh. But it's not that I am ungrateful. +There is nothing really the matter. I—I'm feeling rather like a stray +cat this morning, that's all."</p> + +<p>The smile still lingered about her lips as she said it. Somehow, telling +this taciturn individual of her trouble deprived it of much of its +bitterness.</p> + +<p>Mercer displayed no sympathy. He did not even continue to look at her. +But she did not feel that his impassivity arose from lack of interest.</p> + +<p>Suddenly:</p> + +<p>"Is it true that you are going to be married as soon as you land?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>Sybil was sitting forward with her chin in her hands.</p> + +<p>"Quite true," she said; adding, half to herself, "so far as I know."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?" He turned squarely and looked down at her.</p> + +<p>She hesitated a little, but eventually she told him.</p> + +<p>"I thought there would have been a letter for me from Robin at Aden, but +there wasn't. It has worried me rather."</p> + +<p>"Robin?" he said interrogatively.</p> + +<p>"Robin Wentworth, the man I am going to marry," she explained. "He has a +farm at Bowker Creek, near Rollandstown. But he will meet me at the +docks. He has promised to do that. Still, I thought I should have heard +from him again."</p> + +<p>"But you will hear at Colombo," said Mercer.</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes—- those soft, dark eyes that were her only beauty.</p> + +<p>"I may," she said.</p> + +<p>"And if you don't?"</p> + +<p>She smiled faintly.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I shall worry some more."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure the fellow is worth it?" asked Mercer unexpectedly.</p> + +<p>"We have been engaged for three years," she said, "though we have been +separated."</p> + +<p>He frowned.</p> + +<p>"A man can alter a good deal in three years."</p> + +<p>She did not attempt to dispute the point. It was one of the many doubts +that tormented her in moments of depression.</p> + +<p>"And what will you do if he doesn't turn up?" proceeded Mercer.</p> + +<p>She gave a sharp shiver.</p> + +<p>"Don't—don't frighten me!" she said.</p> + +<p>Mercer was silent. He thrust one hand into his pocket, and absently +jingled some coins. He began to whistle under his breath, and then, +awaking to the fact, abruptly stopped himself.</p> + +<p>"If I were in your place," he said at length, "I should get off at +Colombo and sail home again on the next boat."</p> + +<p>Sybil shook her head slowly but emphatically.</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure you wouldn't. For one thing you would be too poor, and +for another you would be too proud."</p> + +<p>"Are you very poor?" he asked her point blank.</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"And very proud."</p> + +<p>"And your people?"</p> + +<p>"Only my father is living, and I have quarrelled with him."</p> + +<p>"Can't you make it up?"</p> + +<p>"No," she said sharply and emphatically. "I could never return to my +father. There is no room for me now that he has married again. I would +sooner sell matches at a street corner than go back to what I have +left."</p> + +<p>"So that's it, is it?" said Mercer. He was looking at her very +attentively with his brows drawn down. "You are not happy at home, so +you are plunging into matrimony to get away from it all."</p> + +<p>"We have been engaged for three years," she protested, flushing.</p> + +<p>"You said that before," he remarked. "It seems to be your only argument, +and a confoundedly shaky one at that."</p> + +<p>She laughed rather unsteadily.</p> + +<p>"You are not very encouraging."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mercer.</p> + +<p>He was still looking at her somewhat sternly. Involuntarily almost she +avoided his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," she said, with a touch of wistfulness, "when you see my +<i>fiancé</i> you will change your mind."</p> + +<p>He turned from her with obvious impatience.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you will change yours," he said.</p> + +<p>And with that surly rejoinder of his the conversation ended. The next +moment he moved abruptly away, leaving her in possession.</p> +<br /> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_III'></a><h2>III</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was early morning when they came at last into port. When Sybil +appeared on deck she found it crowded with excited men, and the hubbub +was deafening. A multitude of small boats buzzed to and fro on the +tumbling waters below them, and she expected every instant to see one +swamped as the great ship floated majestically through the throng.</p> + +<p>She had anticipated a crowd of people on the wharf to witness their +arrival, but the knot of men gathered there scarcely numbered a score. +She scanned them eagerly, but it took only a very few seconds to +convince her that Robin Wentworth was not among them. And there had been +no letter from him at Colombo.</p> + +<p>"They don't allow many people on the wharf," said Mercer's voice behind +her. "There will be more on the other side of the Customs house."</p> + +<p>She looked up at him, bravely smiling, though her heart was throbbing +almost to suffocation and she could not speak a word.</p> + +<p>He passed on into the crowd and she lost sight of him.</p> + +<p>There followed a delay of nearly half-an-hour, during which she stood +where she was in the glaring sunshine, dumbly watching. The town, with +its many buildings, its roar of traffic; the harbour, with its ships and +its hooting sirens; the hot sky, the water that shone like molten brass; +all were stamped upon her aching brain with nightmare distinctness. She +felt as one caught in some pitiless machine that would crush her to +atoms before she could escape.</p> + +<p>The gangways were fixed at last, and there was a general movement. She +went with the crowd, Mercer's last words still running through her brain +with a reiteration that made them almost meaningless. On the other side +of the Customs house! Of course, of course she would find Robin there, +waiting for her!</p> + +<p>She said it to herself over and over as she stepped ashore, and she +began to picture their meeting. And then, suddenly, an awful doubt +assailed her. She could not recall his features. His image would not +rise before her. The memory of his face had passed completely from her +mind. It had never done so before, and she was scared. But she strove to +reassure herself with the thought that she must surely recognize him the +moment her eyes beheld him. It was but a passing weakness this, born of +her agitation. Of course, she would know him, and he would know her, +too, mightily though she felt she had changed during those three years +that they had not met.</p> + +<p>She moved on as one in a dream, still with that nightmare of oppression +at her heart. The crowd of hurrying strangers bewildered her. Her +loneliness appalled her. She had an insane longing to rush back to her +cabin and hide herself. But she pressed on, on into the Customs house, +following her little pile of luggage that looked so ludicrously +insignificant among all the rest.</p> + +<p>The babel here was incessant. She felt as if her senses would leave her. +Piteously, like a lost child, she searched every face within her scope +of vision; but she searched in vain for the face of a friend.</p> + +<p>Later, she found herself following an official out into an open space +like a great courtyard, that was crammed with vehicles. He was wheeling +her luggage on a trolley. Suddenly he faced round and asked her whither +she wanted to go.</p> + +<p>She looked at him helplessly. "I am expecting someone to meet me," she +said.</p> + +<p>He stared at her in some perplexity, and finally suggested that he +should set down her luggage and leave her to wait where she was.</p> + +<p>To this she agreed, and when he had gone she seated herself on her cabin +trunk and faced the situation. She was utterly alone, with scarcely any +money in her possession, and no knowledge whatever of the place in which +she found herself. Robin would, of course, come sooner or later, but +till he came she was helpless.</p> + +<p>What should she do, she wondered desperately? What could she do? All +about her, people were coming and going. She watched them dizzily. There +was not one of them who seemed to be alone. The heat and glare was +intense. The clatter of wheels sounded in her ears like the roar of +great waters. She felt as if she were sinking down, down through endless +turmoil into a void unspeakable.</p> + +<p>How long she had sat there she could not have said. It seemed to her +hours when someone came up to her with a firm and purposeful stride, +and stooping, touched her shoulder. She looked up dazedly, and saw +Brett Mercer.</p> + +<p>He said something to her, but it was as if he spoke in an unknown +language. She had not the faintest idea what he meant. His face swam +before her eyes. She shook her head at him vaguely, with quivering lips.</p> + +<p>He stooped lower. She felt his arm encircle her, felt him draw her to +her feet. Again he seemed to be speaking, but his words eluded her. The +roar of the great waters filled her brain. Like a lost child she turned +and clung to the supporting arm.</p> +<br /> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_IV'></a><h2>IV</h2> +<br /> + + +<p>Later, it seemed to her that her senses must have deserted her for a +time, for she never remembered what happened to her next. A multitude of +impressions crowded upon her, but she knew nothing with distinctness +till she woke to find herself lying in a room with green blinds +half-drawn, with Mercer stooping over her, compelling her to drink a +nauseating mixture in a wine-glass.</p> + +<p>As soon as full consciousness returned to her she refused to take +another drop.</p> + +<p>"What is it? It—it's horrible."</p> + +<p>"It's the best stuff you ever tasted," he told her bluntly. "You needn't +get up. You are all right as you are."</p> + +<p>But she sat up, nevertheless, and looked at him confusedly. "Where am +I?" she said.</p> + +<p>He seated himself on the corner of a table that creaked loudly beneath +his weight. It seemed to her that he looked even more massive than +usual—a bed-rock of strength. His eyes met hers with a certain mastery.</p> + +<p>"You are in a private room in a private hotel," he said. "I brought you +here."</p> + +<p>"In a hotel!" She stared at him for a moment, stricken silent by the +information; then quickly she rose to her feet. "Oh, but I—I can't +stay!" she said. "I have no money."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Mercer. He remained seated on the table edge, his hands +in his pockets, his eyes unwaveringly upon her. "That's where I come +in," he told her, with a touch of aggressiveness, as though he sighted +difficulties ahead. "I have money—plenty of it. And you are to make use +of it."</p> + +<p>She stood motionless, gazing at him. His eyes never left her. She could +not quite fathom his look, but it was undoubtedly stern.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mercer," she said at last, rather piteously, "I—indeed I am +grateful to you, much more than grateful. But—I can't!"</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" said Mercer curtly. "If you weren't a girl, I should tell you +not to be a fool!"</p> + +<p>She was clasping and unclasping her hands. It was to be a battle of +wills. His rough speech revealed this to her. And she was ill-equipped +for the conflict. His dominant personality seemed to deprive her of even +the desire to fight. She remembered, with a sudden, burning flush, that +she had clung to him only a little while before in her extremity of +loneliness. Doubtless he remembered it too.</p> + +<p>Yet she braced herself for the struggle. He could not, after all, compel +her to accept his generosity.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," she said; "I am very sorry. But, you know, there is +another way in which you can help me."</p> + +<p>"What is that?" said Mercer.</p> + +<p>"If you could tell me of some respectable lodging," she said. "I have +enough for one night if the charges are moderate. And even after +that—if Robin doesn't come—I have one or two little things I might +sell. He is sure to come soon."</p> + +<p>"And if he doesn't?" said Mercer.</p> + +<p>Her fingers gripped each other.</p> + +<p>"I am sure he will," she said.</p> + +<p>"And if he doesn't?" said Mercer again.</p> + +<p>His persistence became suddenly intolerable. She turned on him with +something like anger—the anger of desperation.</p> + +<p>"Why will you persist in trying to frighten me? I know he will come. I +know he will!"</p> + +<p>"You don't know," said Mercer. "I am not frightening you. You were +afraid before you ever spoke to me."</p> + +<p>He spoke harshly, without pity, and still his eyes dwelt resolutely upon +her. He seemed to be watching her narrowly.</p> + +<p>She did not attempt to deny his last words. She passed them by.</p> + +<p>"I shall write to Bowker Creek. He may have mistaken the date."</p> + +<p>"He may," said Mercer, in a tone she did not understand. "But, in the +meantime, why should you turn your back upon the only friend you have at +hand? It seems to me that you are making a fuss over nothing. You have +been brought up to it, I daresay; but it isn't the fashion here. We are +taught to take things as they come, and make the best of 'em. That's +what you have got to do. It'll come easier after a bit."</p> + +<p>"It will never come easily to me to—to live on charity," she protested, +rather incoherently.</p> + +<p>"But you can pay me back," said Brett Mercer.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Not if—if Robin——"</p> + +<p>"I tell you, you can!" he insisted stubbornly.</p> + +<p>"How?" She turned suddenly and faced him. There was a hint of defiance, +or, rather, daring, in her manner. She met his look with unswerving +resolution. "If there is a good chance of my being able to do that," she +said, "even if—even if Robin fails me, I will accept your help."</p> + +<p>"You will be able to do it," said Mercer.</p> + +<p>"How?" she asked again.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you," he said, "when you are quite sure that Robin has +failed you."</p> + +<p>"Tell me now!" she pleaded. "If it is some work that you can find for me +to do—and I will do anything in the world that I can—it would be such +a help to me to know of it. Won't you tell me what you mean? Please do!"</p> + +<p>"No," said Mercer. "It is only a chance, and you may refuse it. I can't +say. You may feel it too much for you to attempt. If you do, you will +have to endure the obligation. But you shall have the chance of paying +me back if you really want it."</p> + +<p>"And you won't tell me what it is?" she said.</p> + +<p>"No." He got to his feet, and stood looking down at her. "I can't tell +you now. I am not in a position to do so. I am going away for a few +days. You will wait here till I come back?"</p> + +<p>"Unless Robin comes," she said. "And then, of course, I would leave you +a message."</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"Otherwise you will stay here?"</p> + +<p>"If you are sure you wish it," she said.</p> + +<p>"I do. And I am going to leave you this." He laid a packet upon the +table. "It is better for you to be independent, for the sake of +appearances." His iron mouth twitched a little. "Now, good-bye! You +won't be more miserable than you can help?"</p> + +<p>She smiled up at him bravely.</p> + +<p>"No; I won't be miserable. How long shall you be gone?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly a week, possibly a little more."</p> + +<p>"But you will come back?" she said quickly, almost beseechingly.</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly come back," he said.</p> + +<p>With the words his great hand closed firmly upon hers, and she had a +curious, vagrant feeling of insecurity that she could not attempt to +analyse. Then abruptly he let her go. An instant his eyes still held +her, and then, before she could begin to thank him, he turned to the +door and was gone.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_V'></a><h2>V</h2> +<br /> + +<p>For ten days, that seemed to her like as many years, Sybil Denham waited +in the shelter into which she had been so relentlessly thrust for an +answer to her letter to Bowker Creek, and during the whole of that time +she lived apart, exchanging scarcely a word with any one. Every day, +generally twice a day, she went down to the wharf; but, she could not +bring herself to linger. The loneliness that perpetually dogged her +footsteps was almost poignant there, and sometimes she came away with +panic at her heart. Suppose Mercer also should forsake her! She had not +the faintest idea what she would do if he did. And yet, whenever she +contemplated his return, she was afraid. There was something about the +man that she had never fathomed—something ungovernable, something +brutal—from which instinctively she shrank.</p> + +<p>On the evening of the tenth day she received her answer—a letter from +Rollandstown by post. The handwriting she knew so well sprawled over the +envelope which her trembling fingers could scarcely open. Relief was +her first sensation, and after it came a nameless anxiety. Why had he +written? How was it—how was it that he had not come to her?</p> + +<p>Trembling all over, she unfolded the letter, and read:</p> + +<p>"Dear Sybil,—I am infernally sorry to have brought you out for nothing, +for I find that I cannot marry you after all. Things have gone wrong +with me of late, and it would be downright folly for me to think of +matrimony under existing circumstances. I am leaving this place almost +at once, so there is no chance of hearing from you again. I hope you +will get on all right. Anyhow, you are well rid of me.—Yours,</p> + +<p>"ROBIN."</p> + +<p>Beneath the signature, scribbled very faintly, were the words, "I'm +sorry, old girl; I'm sorry."</p> + +<p>She read the letter once, and once only; but every word stamped itself +indelibly upon her memory, every word bit its way into her consciousness +as though it had been scored upon her quivering flesh. Robin had failed +her. That ghastly presentiment of hers had come true. She was +alone—alone, and sinking in that awful whirlpool of desolation into +which for so long she had felt herself being drawn. The great waters +swirled around her, rising higher, ever higher. And she was alone.</p> + +<p>Hours passed. She sat in a sort of trance of horror, Robin's letter +spread out beneath her nerveless fingers. She did not ask herself what +she should do. The blow had stunned all her faculties. She could only +sit there face to face with despair, staring blind-eyed before her, +motionless, cold as marble to the very heart of her. She fancied—she +even numbly hoped—that she was going to die.</p> + +<p>She never heard repeated knocking at her door, or remembered that it was +locked, till a man's shoulder burst it open. Then, indeed, she turned +stiffly and looked at the intruder.</p> + +<p>"You!" she said.</p> + +<p>She had forgotten Brett Mercer.</p> + +<p>He came forward quickly, stooped and looked at her; then went down on +his knee and thrust his arm about her.</p> + +<p>She sat upright in his hold, not yielding an inch, not looking at him. +Her eyes were glassy.</p> + +<p>For a little he held her; then gently but insistently he drew her to +him, pillowed her head against him, and began to rub her icy cheek.</p> + +<p>"I've left you alone too long," he said.</p> + +<p>She suffered him dumbly, scarcely knowing what she did. But presently +the blood that seemed to have frozen in her veins began to circulate +again, and the stiffness passed from her limbs. She stirred in his hold +like a frightened bird.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry!" she faltered.</p> + +<p>He let her draw away from him, but he kept his arm about her. She looked +at him, and found him intently watching her. Her eyes fell, and rested +upon the letter which lay crumpled under her hands.</p> + +<p>"A dreadful thing has happened to me," she said. "Robin has written to +say—to say—that he cannot marry me!"</p> + +<p>"What is there dreadful in that?" said Mercer.</p> + +<p>She did not look up, though his words startled her a little.</p> + +<p>"It—has made me feel like—like a stray cat again," she said, with the +ghost of a smile about her lips. "Of course, I know I'm foolish. There +must be plenty of ways in which a woman can earn her living here. You +yourself were thinking of something that I might do, weren't you?"</p> + +<p>"I was," said Mercer. He laid his great hand upon hers, paused a moment, +then deliberately drew her letter from beneath them and crushed it into +a ball. "But I want you to tell me something before we go into that. The +truth, mind! It must be the truth!"</p> + +<p>"Yes?" she questioned, with her head bent.</p> + +<p>"You must look at me," he said, "or I shan't believe you."</p> + +<p>There was something Napoleonic about his words which placed them wholly +beyond the sphere of offensiveness. Slowly she turned her head and +looked him in the eyes.</p> + +<p>He took his arm abruptly away from her.</p> + +<p>"Heavens!" he said. "How miserable you look! Are you very miserable?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not very happy," she said.</p> + +<p>"But you always smile," he said, "even when you're crying. Ah, that's +better! I scarcely knew you before. Now, tell me! Were you in love with +the fellow?"</p> + +<p>She shrank a little at the direct question. He put his hand on her +shoulder. His touch was imperious.</p> + +<p>"Just a straight answer!" he said. "Were you?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated, longing yet fearing to lower her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I—I don't quite know," she said at length. "I used to think so."</p> + +<p>"You haven't thought so of late?" His eyes searched hers unsparingly, +with stern insistence.</p> + +<p>"I haven't been sure," she admitted.</p> + +<p>He released her and rose.</p> + +<p>"You won't regret him for long," he said. "In fact, you'll live to be +glad that you didn't have him!"</p> + +<p>She did not contradict him. He was too positive for that. She watched +him cross the room with a certain arrogance, and close the half-open +door. As he returned she stood up.</p> + +<p>"Can we get to business now?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Business?" said Mercer.</p> + +<p>With a steadiness that she found somewhat difficult of accomplishment +she made reply:</p> + +<p>"You thought you could find me employment—some means by which I could +pay you back."</p> + +<p>"You still want to pay me back?" he said.</p> + +<p>She glanced up half nervously.</p> + +<p>"I know that I can never repay your kindness to me," she said. "So far +as that goes, I am in your debt for always. But—the money part I must +and will, somehow, return."</p> + +<p>"Being the most important part?" he suggested, halting in front of her.</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean to imply that," she answered. "I think you know which I +put first. But I can only do what I can, and money is repayable."</p> + +<p>"So is kindness," said Mercer.</p> + +<p>Again shyly she glanced at him.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I don't quite understand."</p> + +<p>He sat down once more upon the table edge to bring his eyes on a level +with hers.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing to be scared about," he said.</p> + +<p>She smiled a little.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; I am not scared. I believe you think me even more foolish than +I actually am."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," said Mercer. "If I did, I shouldn't say what I am going +to say. As it is, you are not to answer till you have counted up to +fifty. Is that a bargain?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, beginning to feel more curious than afraid.</p> + +<p>"Here goes then," said Brett Mercer. "I want a wife, and I want you. +Will you marry me? Now, shut your eyes and count!"</p> + +<p>But Sybil disobeyed him. She opened her eyes wide, and stared at him in +breathless amazement.</p> + +<p>Mercer stared back with absolute composure.</p> + +<p>"I'm in dead earnest," he told her. "Never made a joke in my life. Of +course, you'll refuse me. I know that. But I shan't give you up if you +do. If you don't marry me, you won't marry any one else, for I'll lick +any other man off the ground. I come first with you now, and I mean to +stay first."</p> + +<p>He stopped, for amazement had given place to something else on her face. +She looked at him queerly, as if irresolute for a few seconds; but she +no longer shrank from meeting his eyes. And then quite suddenly she +broke into her funny little laugh.</p> + +<p>"Amusing, is it?" he said.</p> + +<p>She turned sharply away, with one hand pressed to her mouth, obviously +struggling with herself.</p> + +<p>At last:</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to laugh really—really. Only +you—you're such a monster, and I'm such a shrimp! Please don't be vexed +with me!"</p> + +<p>She put out her hand to him, without turning.</p> + +<p>He did not take it at once. When he did, he drew her round to face him. +There was an odd restraint about the action, determined though it was.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said gruffly. "Which is it to be? Am I to go to the devil, or +stay with you?"</p> + +<p>She looked down at the great hand that held her. She was still half +laughing, though her lips quivered.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't possibly marry you yet," she said.</p> + +<p>"No. To-morrow!" said Mercer.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Not even then."</p> + +<p>"Listen!" he said. "If you won't marry me at once you will have to come +with me without. For I am going up-country to see my farms, and I don't +mean to leave you here."</p> + +<p>"Can't I wait till you come back?" she said.</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>He leaned forward a little, trying to peer under her drooping lids. She +was trembling slightly.</p> + +<p>"I think you forget," she said, "that—that we hardly know each other."</p> + +<p>"How are we to get any nearer if I'm up-country and you're here?" he +said.</p> + +<p>She looked at him unwillingly.</p> + +<p>"You may change your mind when you have had time to think it over," she +said, colouring deeply.</p> + +<p>"I'll take the risk," said Mercer. "Besides"—she saw his grim smile for +an instant—"I've been thinking of nothing else since I met you."</p> + +<p>She started a little.</p> + +<p>"I—I had no idea."</p> + +<p>"No," he said; "I saw that. You needn't be afraid of me on that account. +It ought to have the opposite effect."</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid of you," she said, with a certain dignity. "But I, +too, should have time for consideration."</p> + +<p>"A woman doesn't need it," he asserted. "She can make up her mind at a +moment's notice."</p> + +<p>"And is often sorry for ever afterwards," she said smiling faintly.</p> + +<p>He thrust out his jaw, as if challenging her.</p> + +<p>"You think I shall make you sorry?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered. "But I want to be quite sure."</p> + +<p>"Which is another reason for marrying me to-morrow," he said. "I'm not +going to let you wait. It's only a whim. You weren't created to live +alone, and there is no reason why you should. I am here, and you will +have to take me."</p> + +<p>"Whether I want to or not?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>She was silent.</p> + +<p>He lifted the hand he held and looked at it. He spanned her wrist with +his finger and thumb.</p> + +<p>"That's reason enough for me," he abruptly said. "You are nothing but +skin and bone. You've been starving yourself."</p> + +<p>"I haven't," she protested. "I haven't, indeed."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you," he retorted rudely. "You weren't such a skeleton +as this when I saw you last. Come, what's the good of fighting? You'll +have to give in."</p> + +<p>She smiled again faintly at the rough persuasion in his voice, but still +she hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I shan't eat you, you know," he proceeded, pressing his advantage. "I +shan't do anything you won't like."</p> + +<p>She glanced at him quickly.</p> + +<p>"You mean that?"</p> + +<p>His eyes looked straight back at her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I mean it."</p> + +<p>"Can I trust you?" she said, almost in a whisper.</p> + +<p>He rose to his full height, and stood before her. And in that moment an +odd little thrill went through her. He was magnificent—the finest man +she had ever seen. She caught her breath a little, feeling awed before +the immensity of his strength. But, very curiously, she no longer felt +afraid.</p> + +<p>"You must ask yourself that question," he said bluntly. "You have my +word."</p> + +<p>And with a gasp she let herself go at last.</p> + +<p>"I will take you on trust," she said.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_VI'></a><h2>VI</h2> +<br /> + +<p>When Sybil at length travelled up-country with her husband the shearing +season had already commenced. They went by easy stages, for the heat was +great, and she was far from strong. She knew that Mercer was anxious to +reach his property, and she would have journeyed more rapidly if he +would have permitted it, but upon this point he was firm. At every turn +he considered her, and she marvelled at the intuition with which he +divined her unspoken wishes. Curt and rough though he was, his care +surrounded her in a magic circle within which she dwelt at ease. With +all his imperiousness she did not find him domineering, and this fact +was a constant marvel to her, for she knew the mastery of his will. By +some mysterious power he curbed himself, and day by day her confidence +in him grew.</p> + +<p>They accomplished the greater part of the journey by rail, and then when +the railway ended came the long, long ride. They travelled for five +days, spending each night at an inn at some township upon the road. +Through dense stretches of forest, through great tracts of waste +country, and again through miles of parched pasture-land they rode, and +during the whole of that journey Mercer's care never relaxed. She never +found him communicative. He would ride for hours without uttering a +word, but yet she was subtly conscious of his close attention. She knew +that she was never out of his thoughts.</p> + +<p>At the inns at which they rested he always saw himself to her comfort, +and the best room was always placed at her disposal. One thing impressed +her at every halt. The innkeepers one and all stood in awe of him. Not +one of them welcomed him, but not one of them failed to attend with +alacrity to his wants. It puzzled her, for she herself had never found +him really formidable.</p> + +<p>On the last morning of their ride, when they set forth, she surprised a +look of deep compassion in the eyes of the innkeeper's wife as she said +good-bye, and it gave her something of a shock. Why was the woman sorry +for her? Had she heard her story by any strange chance? Or was it for +some other reason? It left an unpleasant impression upon her. She wished +she had not seen it.</p> + +<p>They rode that day almost exclusively through Mercer's property, which +extended for many miles. He was the owner of several farms, two of which +they passed without drawing rein. He was taking her to what he called +the Home Farm, his native place, which he still made his headquarters, +and from which he overlooked the whole of his great property.</p> + +<p>The brief twilight had turned to darkness before they reached it. During +the last half hour Mercer rode with his hand upon Sybil's bridle, and +she was glad to have it there. She was not accustomed to riding in the +dark. Moreover, she was very tired, and when at last they turned in +through an open gateway to one side of which a solitary lantern had been +fixed, she breathed a deep sigh of thankfulness.</p> + +<p>She saw the outline of the house but vaguely, but in two windows lights +were burning, and as they clattered up a door was thrown open, and a man +stood silhouetted for a moment on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Curtis! Here we are!" was Mercer's greeting. "Later than I +intended, but it's a far cry from Wallarroo, and we had to take it +easy."</p> + +<p>"The best way," the other said.</p> + +<p>He went forward and quietly helped Sybil to dismount. He did not speak +to her as he did so, and she wondered a little at the reserve of his +manner. But the next moment she forgot him at the sight of a hideous +young negro who had suddenly appeared at the horses' heads.</p> + +<p>"It's only Beelzebub," said the man at her side, in a tired voice, as if +it were an effort to speak at all.</p> + +<p>She realized that the explanation was intended to be reassuring, and +laughed rather tremulously. Finding Mercer at her side she slipped her +hand into his.</p> + +<p>He gave it a terrific squeeze. "Come inside!" he said. "You are tired."</p> + +<p>They went in, Curtis following.</p> + +<p>In a room with a sanded floor that looked pleasantly homely to her +English eyes a meal was spread. The place and everything it contained +shone in the lamplight. She looked around her with a smile of pleasure, +notwithstanding her weariness. And then her eyes fell upon Curtis, and +found his fixed upon her.</p> + +<p>He averted them instantly, but she had read their expression at a +glance—surprise and compassion—and her heart gave a curious little +throb of dismay.</p> + +<p>She turned nevertheless without a pause to Mercer.</p> + +<p>"Won't you introduce me to your friend?" she said.</p> + +<p>"What?" said Mercer. "Oh, that's Curtis, my foreman. Curtis, this is my +wife."</p> + +<p>Curtis bowed stiffly, but Sybil held out her hand.</p> + +<p>"How nice everything looks!" she said. "I am sure we have you to thank +for it."</p> + +<p>"Beelzebub and me," he said; and again she was struck by the utter lack +of animation in his voice.</p> + +<p>He was a man of about forty, lean and brown, with an unmistakable air of +breeding about him that put her at her ease at once. His quiet manner +was a supreme contrast to Mercer's roughness. She was quite sure that he +was not colonial born.</p> + +<p>He sat at table with them, and waited also, but he did not utter a word +except now and again in answer to some brief query from Mercer. When the +meal was over he cleared the table and disappeared.</p> + +<p>She looked at Mercer in some surprise as the door closed upon him.</p> + +<p>"He's a useful chap," Mercer said. "I'm sorry there isn't a woman in the +house, but you'll find Beelzebub better than a dozen. And this fellow is +always at hand for anything you may want in the evening."</p> + +<p>"He is a gentleman," she said almost involuntarily.</p> + +<p>Mercer looked at her.</p> + +<p>"Do you object to having a gentleman to wait on you?" he asked curtly.</p> + +<p>She did not quite understand his tone, but she was very far just then +from understanding the man himself. His question demanded no answer, and +she gave none.</p> + +<p>After a moment she got up, and, conscious of an oppression in the +atmosphere, took off her hat and pushed back the hair from her face. +She knew that Mercer was watching her, felt his eyes upon her, and +wished intensely that he would speak, but he did not utter a word. There +seemed to her to be something stubborn in his silence, and it affected +her strangely.</p> + +<p>For a while she stood also silent, then suddenly with a little smile she +looked across at him.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to show me everything?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Not to-night," he said. "I will show you your bedroom if you are too +tired to stay up any longer."</p> + +<p>She considered the matter for a few seconds, then quietly crossed the +room to his side. She laid a hand that trembled slightly on his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You have been very good to me," she said.</p> + +<p>He stiffened at her touch.</p> + +<p>"You had better go to bed," he said gruffly, and made as if he would +rise.</p> + +<p>But she checked him with a dignity all her own.</p> + +<p>"Wait, please; I want to speak to you."</p> + +<p>"Not to thank me, I hope," he said.</p> + +<p>"No, not to thank you." She paused an instant, and seemed to hesitate. +"I—I really want to ask you something," she said at length.</p> + +<p>He reached up and removed her hand from his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>"Don't hold me at arms' length!" she pleaded gently. "It makes things so +difficult."</p> + +<p>"What is it you want to know?" he asked without relaxing.</p> + +<p>She stood silent for a few seconds as if summoning all her courage. Then +at length, her voice very low, she spoke.</p> + +<p>"When you said that you wanted me for your wife, did you mean that +you—loved me?"</p> + +<p>He made an abrupt movement, and his fingers closed tightly upon her +wrist. For a moment or more he sat in tense silence, then he got to his +feet.</p> + +<p>"Why do you want to know?" he demanded harshly.</p> + +<p>She stood before him with bent head.</p> + +<p>"Because," she said, and there was a piteous quiver in her voice, "I am +lonely, and I have a very empty heart. And—and—if you love me it will +not frighten me to know it. It will only—make me—glad."</p> + +<p>He put his hand on her shoulder. "Do you know what you are saying?" he +questioned.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said under her breath.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?" he persisted.</p> + +<p>She raised her head impulsively, and, with a gesture most winning, most +confident, she stretched up her arms to him.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said. "I mean it! I mean it! I want—to be loved!"</p> + +<p>His arms were close about her as she ended, and she uttered the last +words chokingly with her face against his breast. The effort had cost +her all her strength, and she clung to him panting, almost fainting, +while panic—wild, unreasoning panic—swept over her. What was this man +to whom she had thus impulsively given herself—this man whom all men +feared?</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, she grew calmer at last, awaking to the fact that though +his hold was tense and passionate, he still retained his self-control. +She commanded herself, and turned her face upwards.</p> + +<p>"Then you do love me?" she said tremulously.</p> + +<p>His eyes shone into hers, red as the inner, intolerable glow of a +furnace. He did not attempt to make reply in words. He seemed at that +moment incapable of speech. He only bent and kissed her fiercely, +burningly, even brutally, upon the lips. And so she had her answer.</p> + +<br /> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_VII'></a><h2>VII</h2> +<br /> + + +<p>It was a curious establishment over which Sybil found herself called +upon to preside. The native, Beelzebub, was her only domestic, and, as +Mercer had predicted, she found him very willing if not always +efficient. One thing she speedily discovered regarding him. He went in +deadly fear of his master, and invariably crept about like a whipped +cur in his presence.</p> + +<p>"Why is it?" she said to Curtis once.</p> + +<p>But Curtis only shrugged his shoulders in reply.</p> + +<p>He was a continual puzzle to her, this man. There was no servility about +him, but she had a feeling that he, too, was in some fashion under +Mercer's heel. He made himself exceedingly useful to her in his silent, +unobtrusive way; but he seldom spoke on his own initiative, and it was +some time before she felt herself to be on terms of intimacy with him. +He was an excellent cook; and he and Beelzebub between them made her +duties remarkably light. In fact, she spent most of her time riding with +her husband, who was fully occupied just then in overlooking the +shearers' work. She also was keenly interested, but he never suffered +her to go among the men. Once, when she had grown tired of waiting for +him, and followed him into one of the sheds, he was actually angry with +her—a new experience, which, if it did not seriously scare her, made +her nervous in his presence for some time afterwards.</p> + +<p>She had come to regard him as a man whose will was bound to be +respected, a man who possessed the power of impressing his personality +indelibly upon all with whom he came in contact. There were times when +he touched and set vibrating the very pulse of her being, times when her +heart quivered and expanded in the heat of his passion as a flower that +opens to the sun. But there were also times when he filled her with a +nameless dread, when the very foundations of her confidence were shaken, +and she felt as a prisoner behind iron bars. She did not know him, that +was her trouble. There were in him depths that she could not reach, +could scarcely even realize. He was slow to reveal himself to her, and +she had but the vaguest indications to guide her. She even felt +sometimes that he deliberately kept back from her that which she felt to +be almost the essential part of him. This she knew that time must +remedy. Living his life, she was bound ultimately to know whereof he was +made, and she tried to assure herself that when that knowledge came to +her she would not be dismayed. And yet she had occasional glimpses of +him that made her tremble.</p> + +<p>One evening, after they had spent the entire day in the saddle, he went +after supper to look at one of the horses that was suffering from a +cracked hock. Curtis was busy in the kitchen, and Sybil betook herself +to the step to wait for her husband. She often sat in the starlight +while he smoked his pipe. She knew that he liked to have her there.</p> + +<p>She was drowsy after her long exercise, and must have dozed with her +head against the door-post, when suddenly she became conscious of a +curious sound. It came from the direction of the stable which was on the +other side of the house. But for the absolute stillness of the night she +would not have heard it. She started upright in alarm, and listened +intently.</p> + +<p>It came again—a terrible wailing, unlike anything she had ever heard, +ending in a staccato shriek that made her blood run cold.</p> + +<p>She sprang up and turned into the house, almost running into Curtis, who +had just appeared in the passage behind her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what is it?" she cried. "What is it? Something terrible is +happening! Did you hear?"</p> + +<p>She would have turned into the kitchen, that being the shortest route to +the stable, but he stretched an arm in front of her.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't go if I were you," he said. "You can't do any good."</p> + +<p>She stood and stared at him, a ghastly fear clutching her heart. +"What—what do you mean?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"It's only Beelzebub," he said, "getting hammered for his sins."</p> + +<p>She gripped her hands tightly over her breast. "You mean that—that my +husband—?"</p> + +<p>He nodded. "It won't go on much longer. I should go to bed if I were +you."</p> + +<p>He meant it kindly, but the words sounded to her most hideously callous. +She turned from him, sobbing hysterically, and sprang for the open door.</p> + +<p>The next moment she was running swiftly round the house to the stable. +Turning the corner, she heard a sound like a pistol-shot. It was +followed instantly by a scream so utterly inhuman that even then she +almost wheeled and fled. But she mastered the impulse. She reached the +stable-door, fumbled at the latch, finally burst inwards as it swung +open.</p> + +<p>A lantern hung on a nail immediately within. By its light she discovered +her husband—a gigantic figure—towering over something she could not +see, something that crouched, writhing and moaning, in a corner. He was +armed with a horsewhip, and even as she entered she saw him raise it and +bring it downwards with a horrible precision upon the thing at his feet. +She heard again that awful shriek of anguish, and a sick shudder went +through her. Unconsciously, a cry broke from her own lips, and, as +Mercer's arm went up again, she flung herself forward and tried to catch +it.</p> + +<p>In her agitation she failed. The heavy end of the whip fell upon her +outstretched arm, numbing; it to the shoulder. She heard Mercer utter a +frightful oath, and with a gasp she fell.</p> +<br /> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_VIII'></a><h2>VIII</h2> +<br /> + + + +<p>When she came to herself she was lying on her bed. Someone—Curtis—was +bathing her arm in warm water. He did not speak to her or raise his: +eyes from his occupation. She thought he looked very grim.</p> + +<p>"Where is—Brett?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>Curtis did not answer her, but a moment later she looked beyond him and +saw Mercer leaning upon the bed-rail. His eyes were fixed upon her and +held her own. She sought to avoid them, but could not. And suddenly she +knew that he was angry with her, not merely displeased, but furiously +angry.</p> + +<p>She made an effort to rise, but at that Curtis laid a restraining hand +upon her, and spoke.</p> + +<p>"Go away, Mercer!" he said. "Haven't you done harm enough for one +night?"</p> + +<p>The words amazed her. She had never thought that he would dare to use +such a tone to her husband. She trembled for the result, for Mercer's +face just then was terrible, but Curtis did not so much as glance in his +direction.</p> + +<p>Mercer's eyes remained mercilessly fixed upon her.</p> + +<p>"Do you wish me to go?" he said.</p> + +<p>"No," she murmured faintly.</p> + +<p>Her arm was beginning to hurt her horribly, and she shuddered +uncontrollably once or twice. But that unvarying scrutiny was harder to +bear, and at last, in desperation, she made a quivering appeal.</p> + +<p>"Come and help me!" she begged. "Come and lift me up!"</p> + +<p>For an instant he did not stir, and she even thought he would refuse. +Then, stiffly, he straightened himself and moved round to her side.</p> + +<p>Stooping, he raised and supported her. But his expression did not alter; +the murderous glare was still in his eyes. She turned her face into his +breast and lay still.</p> + +<p>After what seemed a very long interval Curtis spoke.</p> + +<p>"That's all I can do for the present. I will dress it again in the +morning, and it had better be in a sling. Mercer, I should like a word +with you outside."</p> + +<p>Sybil stirred sharply at the brief demand. Her nerves were on edge, and +a quaking doubt shot through her as to what Mercer might do if Curtis +presumed too far.</p> + +<p>She laid an imploring hand on her husband's arm.</p> + +<p>"Stay with me!" she begged him faintly.</p> + +<p>He did not move or speak.</p> + +<p>Curtis stood up.</p> + +<p>"Presently, then!" he said, and she heard him move away.</p> + +<p>At the door he paused, and she thought he made some rapid sign to +Mercer. But the next moment she heard the door close softly, and knew +that he had gone.</p> + +<p>She lay quite still thereafter, her heart fluttering too much for +speech. What would he say to her, she wondered; how would he break his +silence? She had no weapon to oppose against his anger. She was as +powerless before it as Beelzebub had been.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he moved. He turned her head back upon his arm and looked +straight down into her eyes. She did not shrink. She would not. But her +heart died within her. She felt as if she were gazing into hell, +watching a soul in torment.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said at last. "Are you satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"Satisfied?" she faltered.</p> + +<p>"As to the sort of monster you have married," he explained, with savage +bitterness. "You've been putting out feelers ever since you came here. +Did you think I didn't know? Well, you've found out a little more than +you wanted, this time. Perhaps it will be a lesson to you. +Perhaps"—sheer cruelty shone red in his eyes—"when you see what I've +done to you, you will remember that I am not a man to play with, and +that any one, man or woman, who interferes with me, must pay the price."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean," she answered with an effort. "What +happened was an accident."</p> + +<p>"Was it?" he said brutally. "Was it?"</p> + +<p>Still she did not shrink from him.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said. "It was an accident."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She answered him instantly. She had not realized till then that she was +fighting the flames for his soul. The knowledge came upon her suddenly, +and it gave her strength.</p> + +<p>"Because I know that you love me," she said. "Because—because—though +you are cruel, and though you may be wicked—I love you, too."</p> + +<p>She said it with absolute sincerity, but it was the hardest thing she +had ever done in her life. To tell this man who was half animal and half +fiend that he had not somehow touched the woman's heart in her seemed +almost a desecration. She saw the flare of passion leap up in his eyes, +and she was conscious for one sick moment of a feeling of downright +repulsion. If she had only succeeded in turning his savagery into +another channel she had spoken in vain; or, worse, she had made a +mistake that could never be remedied.</p> + +<p>Abruptly she felt her courage waver. She shrank at last.</p> + +<p>"I want you to understand," she faltered; and again, "I want you to +understand."</p> + +<p>But she could get no further. She hid her face against him and began to +sob.</p> + +<p>There followed a silence, tense and terrible, which she dared not break.</p> + +<p>Then she felt him bend lower, and suddenly his arms were under her. He +lifted her like a little child and sat down, holding her. His hand +pressed her head against his neck, fondling, soothing, consoling. And +she knew, with an overwhelming thankfulness, that she had not offered +herself in vain. She had drawn him out of his hell by the magic of her +love.</p> +<br /> + + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_IX'></a><h2>IX</h2> +<br /> + + + +<p>When morning came Mercer departed alone, and Curtis was left in charge. +Sybil lay in her room half dressed, while the latter treated her injured +arm.</p> + +<p>"You ought not to be up at all," he remarked, as he uncovered it. "Have +you had any sleep?"</p> + +<p>"Not much," she was obliged to confess.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you stay in bed?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want—my husband—to think me very bad," she said, flushing a +little.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Curtis. And then he glanced at her, saw the flush, and +said no more.</p> + +<p>She watched his bandaging with interest.</p> + +<p>"You look so professional," she said.</p> + +<p>He uttered a short laugh.</p> + +<p>"Do I?"</p> + +<p>"I mean," she said, unaccountably embarrassed, "that you do it so +nicely."</p> + +<p>"I have done a good deal of veterinary work," he said rather coldly. And +then suddenly he seemed to change his mind. "I was a professional once," +he said, without looking at her. "I made a mistake—a bad one—and it +broke me. That's all."</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said impulsively, "I am so sorry."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>Not till he was about to leave her did she manage to ask the question +that had been uppermost in her mind since his entrance.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen Beelzebub yet?"</p> + +<p>He paused—somewhat unwillingly, she thought.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Is he"—she hesitated—"is he very bad?"</p> + +<p>"He isn't going to die, if that is what you mean," said Curtis.</p> + +<p>She felt her heart contract.</p> + +<p>"Please tell me!" she urged rather faintly. "I want to know."</p> + +<p>With the air of a man submitting to the inevitable Curtis proceeded to +inform her.</p> + +<p>"He is lying in the loft over the stable, like a sick dog. He is rather +badly mauled, and whimpers a good deal. I shall take him some soup +across presently, but I don't suppose he'll touch it."</p> + +<p>"Ok, dear!" she said. "What shall you do then?"</p> + +<p>"Mercer will have to lend a hand if I can't manage him," Curtis +answered. "But I shall do my best."</p> + +<p>She suppressed a shudder.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will be successful."</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Curtis, departing.</p> + +<p>When she saw him again she asked anxiously for news; but he had none of +a cheering nature to give her. Beelzebub would not look at food.</p> + +<p>"I knew he wouldn't," he said. "He has been like this before."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Curtis!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It's Mercer's way. He regards the boy as his own personal property, and +so he is, more or less. He picked him up in the bush when he wasn't more +than a few days old. The mother was dead. Mercer took him, and he was +brought up among the farm men. He's a queer young animal, more like a +dog than a human being. He needs hammering now and then. I kick him +occasionally myself. But Mercer goes too far."</p> + +<p>"What had he done?" questioned Sybil.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was some neglect of the horses. I don't know exactly what. +Mercer isn't precisely patient, you know. And when the fellow gets +thoroughly scared he's like a rabbit; he can't move. Mercer thinks him +obstinate, and the rest follows as a natural consequence. I must ask you +to excuse me. I have work to do."</p> + +<p>"One moment!" Sybil laid a nervous hand on his arm. "Mr. Curtis, if—if +you can't persuade the poor boy to take any food, how will my husband do +so?"</p> + +<p>"He won't," said Curtis. "He'll hold him down while I drench him, that's +all."</p> + +<p>"That must be very bad for him," she said.</p> + +<p>"Of course it is. But we can't let him die, you know." He looked at her +suddenly. "Don't you worry yourself, Mrs. Mercer," he said kindly. "He +isn't quite the same as a white man, though it may offend your Western +prejudices to hear me say so. Beelzebub will pull through all right. +They are wonderfully tough, these chaps."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if I could persuade him to take something," she said.</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose you could. In any case, you mustn't try. It is against +orders."</p> + +<p>"Whose orders?" she asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"Your husband's," he answered. "His last words to me were that I was on +no account to let you go near him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, why?" she protested. "And I might be able to help."</p> + +<p>"It isn't at all likely," he said. "And he's not a very pretty thing to +look at."</p> + +<p>"As if that matters!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Well, it does matter, because I don't want to have you in hysterics, as +much for my own sake as for yours." He smiled a little. "Also, if Mercer +finds he has been disobeyed it will make him savage again, and perhaps I +shall be the next victim."</p> + +<p>"He would never touch you!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"He might. Why shouldn't he?"</p> + +<p>"He never would!" she reiterated. "You are not afraid of him."</p> + +<p>He looked contemptuous for a second; and then his expression changed.</p> + +<p>"You are right," he said. "That is my chief safeguard; and, permit me to +say, yours also. It may be worth remembering."</p> + +<p>"You think him a coward!" she said.</p> + +<p>He considered a little.</p> + +<p>"No, not a coward," he said then. "There is nothing mean about him, so +far as I can see. He suffers from too much raw material, that's all. +They call him Brute Mercer in these parts. But perhaps you will be able +to tame him some day."</p> + +<p>"I!" she said, and turned away with a mournful little smile.</p> + +<p>She might charm him once or even twice out of a savage mood, but the +conviction was strong upon her that he would overwhelm her in the end.</p> +<br /> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_X'></a><h2>X</h2> +<br /> + + +<p>For nearly an hour after Curtis had left her she sat still, thinking of +Beelzebub. The afternoon sunlight lay blindingly upon all things. The +heat of it hung laden in the air. But she could not sleep or even try to +rest. Her arm throbbed and burned with a ceaseless pain, and ever the +thought of Beelzebub, lying in the loft "like a sick dog," oppressed her +like an evil dream.</p> + +<p>The shadows had begun to lengthen a little when at last she rose. She +could bear it no longer. Whatever the consequences, she could endure +them more easily than this torture of inactivity. As for Curtis she +believed him fully capable of taking care of himself.</p> + +<p>She went to the kitchen and was relieved to find him absent. Searching, +she presently found the bowl of soup Beelzebub had refused. She turned +it into a saucepan and hung over the fire, scarcely conscious of the +heat in her pressing desire to be of use.</p> + +<p>Finally, armed with the hot liquor, she stole across the yard to the +stable. The place was deserted, save for the horse she usually rode, who +whinnied softly to her as she passed. At the foot of the loft ladder +she stood awhile, listening, and presently heard a heavy groan.</p> + +<p>She had to make the ascent very slowly, using her injured arm to support +herself. When she emerged at last she found herself in a twilight which +for a time her dazzled eyes could not pierce. The heat was intolerable, +and the place hummed with flies.</p> + +<p>"Beelzebub!" she said softly at length. "Beelzebub, where are you?"</p> + +<p>There was a movement in what she dimly discerned to be a heap of straw, +and she heard a feeble whimpering as of an animal in pain.</p> + +<p>Her heart throbbed with pity as she crept across the littered floor. She +was beginning to see more distinctly, and by sundry chinks she +discovered the loft door. She went to it, fumbled for the latch, and +opened it. Instantly the place was flooded with light, and turning +round, she beheld Beelzebub.</p> + +<p>He was lying in a twisted heap in the straw, half naked, looking like +some monstrous reptile. In all her life she had never beheld anything so +horrible. His black flesh was scored over and over with long purple +stripes; even his face was swollen almost beyond recognition, and out of +it the whites of his eyes gleamed, bloodshot and terrible.</p> + +<p>For a few moments she was possessed by an almost overpowering desire to +flee from the awful sight; and then again he stirred and whimpered, and +pity—element most divine—came to her aid.</p> + +<p>She went to the poor, whining creature, and knelt beside him.</p> + +<p>"See!" she said. "I have brought you some soup. Do try and take a +little! It will do you good."</p> + +<p>There was a note of entreaty in her voice, but Beelzebub's eyes stared +as though they would leap out of his head.</p> + +<p>He writhed away from her into the straw. "Go 'way, missis!" he hissed at +her, with lips drawn back in terror. "Go 'way, or Boss'll come and beat +Beelzebub!"</p> + +<p>He spoke the white man's language; it was the only one he knew, but +there was something curiously unfamiliar, something almost bestial in +the way he spat his words.</p> + +<p>Again Sybil was conscious of a wild desire to escape before sheer horror +paralysed her limbs, but she fought and conquered the impulse.</p> + +<p>"Boss won't beat you any more," she said. "And I want you to be a good +boy and drink this before I go. I brought it myself, because I knew you +would take it to please me. You will, won't you, Beelzebub?"</p> + +<p>But Beelzebub was not to be easily persuaded. He cried and moaned and +writhed at every word she spoke. But Sybil had mastered herself, and she +was very patient. She coaxed him as though he had been in truth the sick +dog to which Curtis had likened him. And at last, by sheer persistence, +she managed to insert the spoon between his chattering teeth.</p> + +<p>He let her feed him then, lying passive, still whimpering between every +gulp, while she talked soothingly, scarcely knowing what she said in the +resolute effort to keep her ever-recurring horror at bay. When the bowl +was empty she rose.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you will go to sleep now," she said kindly. "Suppose you try!"</p> + +<p>He stared up at her from his lair with rolling, uneasy eyes. Suddenly he +pointed to her bandaged arm.</p> + +<p>"Boss did that!" he croaked.</p> + +<p>She turned to close the door again, feeling the blood rise in her face.</p> + +<p>"Boss didn't mean to," she answered with as much steadiness as she could +muster. "And he didn't mean to hurt you so badly, either, Beelzebub. He +was sorry afterwards."</p> + +<p>She saw his teeth gleam in the twilight like the bared fangs of a wolf, +and knew that he grinned in derision of this statement. She picked up +her bowl and turned to go. At the same instant he spoke in a piercing +whisper out of the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Boss kill a white man once, missis!"</p> + +<p>She stood still, rooted to the spot. "Beelzebub!"</p> + +<p>He shrank away, whimpering.</p> + +<p>"No, no! Boss'll kill poor Beelzebub! Missis won't tell Boss?"</p> + +<p>To her horror his hand shot out and fastened upon her skirt. But she +could not have moved in any case. She stood staring down at him, +cold—cold to the very heart with foreboding.</p> + +<p>"No," she said at last, and it was as if she stood apart and listened to +another woman, very calm and collected, speaking on her behalf. "I will +never tell him, Beelzebub. You will be quite safe with me. So tell me +what you mean! Don't be afraid! Speak plainly! When did Boss kill a +white man?"</p> + +<p>There must have been something of compulsion in her manner, for, albeit +quaveringly and with obvious terror, the negro answered her.</p> + +<p>"Down by Bowker Creek, missis, 'fore you come. Boss and the white man +fight—a dam' big fight. Beelzebub run away. Afterwards, Boss, come on +alone. So Beelzebub know that Boss kill' the white man."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then you didn't see him killed! You don't know?"</p> + +<p>Was it her own lips uttering the words? They felt quite stiff and +powerless.</p> + +<p>"Beelzebub run away," she heard him repeating rather vacantly.</p> + +<p>"What did they fight with?" she said.</p> + +<p>"They fight with their hands," he told her. "White man from Bowker Creek +try to shoot Boss, and make Boss very angry."</p> + +<p>"But perhaps he wasn't killed," she insisted to herself. "Of course—of +course, he wasn't. You shouldn't say such things, Beelzebub. You +weren't there to see."</p> + +<p>Beelzebub shuffled in the straw and whined depreciatingly.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," she heard the other woman say peremptorily, "what was the +white man's name?"</p> + +<p>But Beelzebub only moaned, and she was forced to conclude that he did +not know.</p> + +<p>"Where is Bowker Creek?" she asked next.</p> + +<p>He could not tell her. His intelligence seemed to have utterly deserted +him.</p> + +<p>She stood silent, considering, while he coiled about revoltingly in the +straw at her feet.</p> + +<p>Suddenly through the afternoon silence there came the sound of a horse's +hoofs. She started, and listened.</p> + +<p>Beelzebub frantically clutched at her shoes.</p> + +<p>"Missis won't tell Boss!" he implored again. "Missis won't——"</p> + +<p>She stepped desperately out of his reach.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" she said. "Hush! He will hear you. I must go. I must go at +once."</p> + +<p>Emergency gave her strength. She moved to the trap-door, and, she knew +not how, found the ladder with her feet.</p> + +<p>Grey-faced, dazed, and cold as marble, she descended. Yet she did not +stumble. Her limbs moved mechanically, unfalteringly.</p> + +<p>When she reached the bottom she turned with absolute steadiness and +found Brett Mercer standing in the doorway watching her.</p> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_XI'></a><h2>XI</h2> +<br /> + + + +<p>He stood looking at her in silence as she came forward. She did not stop +to ascertain if he were angry or not. Somehow it did not seem to matter. +She only dealt with the urgent necessity for averting his suspicion.</p> + +<p>"I just ran across with some soup for Beelzebub," she said, her pale +face raised unflinchingly. "I am glad to say he has taken it. Please +don't go up! I want him to get to sleep."</p> + +<p>She spoke, with a wholly unconscious authority. The supreme effort she +was making seemed to place her upon a different footing. She laid a +quiet hand upon his arm and drew him out of the stable.</p> + +<p>He went with her as one surprised into submission. One of the farm men +who had taken his horse stared after them in amazement.</p> + +<p>As they crossed the yard together Mercer found his voice.</p> + +<p>"I told Curtis you weren't to go near Beelzebub."</p> + +<p>"I know," she answered. "Mr. Curtis told me."</p> + +<p>He cracked his whip savagely.</p> + +<p>"Where is Curtis?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she answered. "But, Brett, if you are angry because I +went you must deal with me, not with Mr. Curtis. He had nothing whatever +to do with it."</p> + +<p>Mercer was silent, and she divined with no sense of elation that he +would not turn his anger against her.</p> + +<p>They entered the house together, and he strode through the passage, +calling for Curtis. But when the latter appeared in answer to the +summons, to her surprise Mercer began to speak upon a totally different +subject.</p> + +<p>"I have just seen Stevens from Wallarroo. They are all in a mortal funk +there. He was on his way over here to ask you to go and look at a man +who is very bad with something that looks like smallpox. You can please +yourself about going; though, if you take my advice, you'll stay away."</p> + +<p>Curtis did not at once reply. He gravely took the empty bowl from +Sybil's hand, and it was upon her that his eyes rested as he finally +said, "Do you think you could manage without me?"</p> + +<p>She looked up with perfect steadiness.</p> + +<p>"Certainly I could. Please do as you think right!"</p> + +<p>"What about Beelzebub?" he said.</p> + +<p>Mercer made a restless movement.</p> + +<p>"He will be on his legs again in a day or two. One of the men must look +after him."</p> + +<p>"I shall look after him," Sybil said, with a calmness of resolution that +astounded both her hearers.</p> + +<p>Mercer put his hand on her shoulder, but said nothing. It was Curtis who +spoke with the voice of authority.</p> + +<p>"You will have to take care of her," he said bluntly. "Bear in mind what +I said to you last night! I will show you how to treat the arm. And then +I think I had better go. It may prevent an epidemic."</p> + +<p>Thereafter he assumed so businesslike an air that he seemed to Sybil to +be completely transformed. There never had been much deference in his +attitude towards Mercer, but he treated him now without the smallest +ceremony. He was as a man suddenly awakened from a long lethargy. From +that moment to the moment of his departure his activity was unceasing.</p> + +<p>Sybil and Mercer watched him finally ride away, and it was not till he +was actually gone that the fact that she was left absolutely alone with +her husband came home to her.</p> + +<p>With a sense of shock she realized it, and those words of +Beelzebub's—the words that she had been so resolutely forcing into the +back of her mind—came crowding back upon her with a vividness and +persistence that were wholly beyond her control.</p> + +<p>What was she going to do, she wondered? What could she do with this +awful, this unspeakable doubt pressing ever upon her? It might all be a +mistake, a hideous mistake on Beelzebub's part. She had no great faith +in his intelligence. It might be that by some evil chance his muddled +brain had registered the name of Bowker Creek in connection with the +fight which she did not for a moment doubt had at some time taken +place. Beelzebub was never reliable in the matter of details, and he +had not been able to answer her question regarding the place.</p> + +<p>Over and over again she tried to convince herself that her fear was +groundless, and over and over again the words came back to her, refusing +to be forgotten or ignored—"the white man from Bowker Creek." Who was +this white man whom Mercer had fought, this man who had tried to shoot +him? She shuddered whenever she pictured the conflict. She was horribly +afraid.</p> + +<p>Yet she played her part unfalteringly, and Mercer never suspected the +seething anguish of suspense and uncertainty that underlay her steadfast +composure. He thought her quieter than usual, deemed her shy; and he +treated her in consequence with a tenderness of which she had not +believed him capable—a tenderness that wrung her heart.</p> + +<p>She was thankful when the morning came, and he left her, for the strain +was almost more than she could endure.</p> + +<p>But in the interval of solitude that ensued she began to build up her +strength anew. Alone with her doubts, she faced the fact that she would +probably never know the truth. She could not rely upon Beelzebub for +accuracy, and she could not refer to her husband. The only course open +to her was to bury the evil thing as deeply as might be, to turn her +face resolutely away from it, to forget—oh, Heaven, if she could but +forget!</p> + +<p>All through that day Beelzebub slept, curled up in the straw. She +visited him several times, but he needed nothing. Nature had provided +her own medicine for his tortured body. In the evening a man came with a +note from Curtis. The case was undoubtedly one of smallpox, he wrote, +and he did not think his patient would recover. There was a good deal of +panic at Wallarroo, and he had removed the man to a cattle-shed at some +distance from the township where they were isolated. There were one or +two things he needed which he desired Mercer to send on the following +day to a place he described, whence he himself would fetch them.</p> + +<p>"Beelzebub can go," said Mercer.</p> + +<p>"If he is well enough!" said Sybil.</p> + +<p>He frowned.</p> + +<p>"You don't seem to realize what these niggers are made of. Of course, he +will be well enough."</p> + +<p>She said no more, for she saw that the topic was unwelcome; but she +determined to make a stand on Beelzebub's behalf the next day, unless +his condition were very materially improved.</p> +<br /> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_XII'></a><h2>XII</h2> +<br /> + + +<p>It was with surprise and relief that upon entering the kitchen on the +following morning Sybil found Beelzebub back in his accustomed place. He +greeted her with a wider grin than usual, which she took for an +expression of gratitude. He seemed to have made a complete recovery, for +which she was profoundly thankful.</p> + +<p>She herself was feeling better that day. Her arm pained her less, and +she no longer carried it in a sling. She had breakfasted in bed, Mercer +himself waiting upon her.</p> + +<p>She was amazed to hear him speak with kindness to Beelzebub, and even +ask the boy if he thought he could manage the ride to Wallarroo. +Beelzebub, abjectly eager to return to favour, professed himself ready +to start at once. And so presently Sybil found herself alone.</p> + +<p>The long day passed without event. The loneliness did not oppress her. +She busied herself with preparing delicacies for the sick man, which +Beelzebub could take on the following day. Beelzebub had had smallpox, +and knew no fear.</p> + +<p>He did not return from his errand till the afternoon was well advanced. +She went to the door to hear his news, but he was in his least +intelligent mood, and seemed able to tell her very little. By dint of +close questioning she elicited that he had seen Curtis, who had told him +that the man was worse. Beyond this, Beelzebub appeared to know nothing; +and yet there was something about him that excited her attention. He +seemed more than once to be upon the point of saying something, and to +fail at the last moment, as though either his wits or his courage were +unequal to the effort. She could not have said what conveyed this +impression, but it was curiously strong. She tried hard to elicit +further information, but Beelzebub only became more idiotic in response, +and she was obliged to relinquish the attempt.</p> + +<p>Mercer came in soon after, and she dismissed the matter from her mind. +But a vivid dream recalled it. She started up in the night, agitated, +incoherent, crying that someone wanted her, someone who could not wait, +and she must go. She could not tell her husband what the dream had been +and in the morning all memory of it had vanished. But it left a vague +disquietude behind, a haunting anxiety that hung heavily upon her. She +could not feel at peace.</p> + +<p>Mercer left that morning. He had to go a considerable distance to an +outlying farm. She saw him off from the gate, and then went back into +the house, still with that inexplicable sense of oppression weighing her +down.</p> + +<p>She prepared the parcel that she purposed to send to Curtis, and went in +search of Beelzebub. He was sweeping the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"I shall want you to go to Wallarroo again to-day," she said. "You had +better start soon, as I should like Mr. Curtis to get this in good +time."</p> + +<p>Beelzebub stopped sweeping, and cringed before her.</p> + +<p>"Boss gone?" he questioned cautiously.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, wondering what was coming.</p> + +<p>He drew a little nearer to her, still cringing.</p> + +<p>"Missis," he whispered piercingly, "Beelzebub see the white man +yesterday."</p> + +<p>She stared at him.</p> + +<p>"What white man, Beelzebub? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"White man from Bowker Creek," said Beelzebub.</p> + +<p>Her breathing stopped suddenly. She felt as if she had been stabbed. +"Where!" she managed to gasp.</p> + +<p>Beelzebub looked vacant. There was evidently something that she was +expected to understand. She forced her startled brain into activity.</p> + +<p>"Is he the man who is ill—the man Mr. Curtis is taking care of?"</p> + +<p>Beelzebub looked intelligent again.</p> + +<p>"White man very bad," he said.</p> + +<p>"But—but—how was it you saw him? You were told to leave the parcel by +the fence for Mr. Curtis to fetch."</p> + +<p>Beelzebub exerted himself to explain.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Curtis away, so Beelzebub creep up close and look in. But the white +man see Beelzebub and curse; so Beelzebub go away again."</p> + +<p>"And that is the man you thought Boss killed?" Sybil questioned, relief +and fear strangely mingled within her.</p> + +<p>Her brain was beginning to whirl, but with all her strength she +controlled it. Now or never would she know the truth.</p> + +<p>Beelzebub was scared by the question.</p> + +<p>"Missis won't tell Boss?" he begged.</p> + +<p>"No, no," she said impatiently. "When will you learn that I never repeat +things? Now, Beelzebub, I want you to do something for me. Can you +remember? You are to ask Mr. Curtis to tell you the white man's name. +Say that Boss—do you understand?—say that Boss wants to know! And then +come back as fast as you possibly can, before Boss gets home to-night, +and tell me!"</p> + +<p>She repeated these instructions many times over till it seemed +impossible that he could make any mistake. And then she watched him go, +and set herself with a heart like lead to face the interminable day.</p> + +<p>She thought the hours would never pass, so restless was she, so +continuous the torment of doubt that vexed her soul. There were times +when she felt that if the thing she feared were true, it would kill her. +If her husband—the man whom, in spite of almost every instinct, she had +learnt to love—had deceived her, if he had played a double game to win +her, if, in short, the man he had fought at Bowker Creek were Robin +Wentworth, then she felt as if life for her were over. She might +continue to exist, indeed, but the heart within her would be dead. There +would be nothing left her but the grey ruins of that which had scarcely +begun to be happiness.</p> + +<p>She tried hard to compose herself, but all her strength could not still +the wild fluttering of her nerves through the long-drawn-out suspense +of that dreadful day. At every sound she hastened to the door to look +for Beelzebub, long before he could possibly return. At the striking of +every hour she strained her ears to listen.</p> + +<p>But when at last she heard the hoof-beats that told of the negro's +approach she felt that she could not go again; she lacked the physical +strength to seek him and hear the truth.</p> + +<p>For a time she sat quite still, gathering all her forces for the ordeal. +Then at length she compelled herself, and rose.</p> + +<p>Beelzebub was grooming his horse. He looked up at her approach and +grinned.</p> + +<p>"Well, Beelzebub," she said through her white lips, "have you seen Mr. +Curtis?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, missis." Beelzebub rolled his eyes intelligently. He seemed +unaware of the tragedy in the English girl's drawn face.</p> + +<p>"And the white man?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Curtis think the white man die soon," said Beelzebub.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" She pressed her hand tightly against her heart. She felt as if its +throbbing would choke her. "And—his name?" she said.</p> + +<p>Beelzebub paused and opened his eyes to their widest extent. He was +making a supreme effort, and the result was monstrous. But Sybil did not +quail; she scarcely saw him.</p> + +<p>"His name?" she said; and again, raising her voice, "His name?"</p> + +<p>The whole world seemed to rock while she waited, but she stood firm in +the midst of chaos. Her whole soul was concentrated upon Beelzebub's +reply.</p> + +<p>It came at last with the effect of something uttered from an immense +distance that was yet piercingly distinct.</p> + +<p>"Went—" said Beelzebub, and paused; then, with renewed effort, +"Wentworth."</p> + +<p>And Sybil turned from him, shrinking as though something evil had +touched her, and walked stiffly back into the house. She had known it +all day long!</p> +<br /> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_XIII'></a><h2>XIII</h2> +<br /> + + +<p>She never knew afterwards how long a time elapsed between the +confirmation of her doubts and the sudden starting to life of a new +resolution within her. It came upon her unexpectedly, striking through +the numbness of her despair, nerving her to action—the memory of her +dream and whence that dream had sprung. Robin Wentworth still lived. It +might be he would know her. It might even be that he was wanting her. +She would go to him.</p> + +<p>It was the only thing left for her to do. Of the risk to herself she did +not think, nor would it have deterred her had it presented itself to her +mind. She felt as though he had called to her, and she had not +answered.</p> + +<p>To Beelzebub's abject entreaties she paid no heed. There were two fresh +horses in the stable, and she ordered him to saddle them both. He did +not dare to disobey her in the matter, but she knew that no power on +earth would have induced him to remain alone at the farm till Mercer's +coming.</p> + +<p>She left no word to explain her absence. There seemed no time for any +written message, nor was she in a state of mind to frame one. She was +driven by a consuming fever that urged her to perpetual movement. It did +not seem to matter how the tidings of her going came to Mercer.</p> + +<p>Not till she was in the saddle and riding, riding hard, did she know a +moment's relief. The physical exertion eased the inward tumult, but she +would not slacken for an instant. She felt that to do so would be to +lose her reason. Beelzebub, galloping after her, thought her demented +already.</p> + +<p>Through the long, long pastures she travelled, never drawing rein, +looking neither to right nor left. The animal she rode knew the way to +Wallarroo, and followed it undeviatingly. The sun was beginning to +slant, and the shadows to lengthen.</p> + +<p>Mile after mile of rolling grassland they left behind them, and still +they pressed forward. At last came the twilight, brief as the soft +sinking of a curtain, and then the dark. But the night was ablaze with +stars, and the road was clear.</p> + +<p>Sybil rode as one in a nightmare, straining forward eternally. She did +not urge her horse, but he bore her so gallantly that she did not need +to do so. Beelzebub had increasing difficulty in keeping up with her.</p> + +<p>At last, after what seemed like the passage of many hours, they sighted +from afar the lights of Wallarroo. Sybil drew rein, and waited for +Beelzebub.</p> + +<p>"Which way?" she said.</p> + +<p>He pointed to a group of trees upon a knoll some distance from the road, +and thither she turned her horse's head. Beelzebub rode up beside her.</p> + +<p>They left the knoll on one side, and, skirting it, came to a dip in the +hill-side. And here they came at length to the end of their journey—a +journey that to Sybil had seemed endless—and halted before a wooden +shed that had been built for cattle. A flap of canvas had been nailed +above the entrance, behind which a dim light burned. Sybil dismounted +and drew near.</p> + +<p>At first she heard no sound; then, as she stood hesitating and +uncertain, there came a man's voice that uttered low, disjointed words. +She thought for a second that someone was praying, and then, with a +thrill of horror, she knew otherwise. The voice was uttering the most +fearful curses she had ever heard.</p> + +<p>Scarcely knowing what she did, but unable to stand there passively +listening, she drew aside the canvas flap and looked in.</p> + +<p>In an instant the voice ceased. There fell a silence, followed by a +wild, half-strangled cry. She had a glimpse of a prone figure in a +corner struggling upwards, and then Curtis was before her—Curtis +haggard and agitated as she had never seen him—pushing her back out of +the dim place into the clean starlight without.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Mercer! Are you mad?" she heard him say.</p> + +<p>She resisted his compelling hands; she was strangely composed and +undismayed.</p> + +<p>"I am coming in," she said. "Nothing on earth will keep me back. That +man—Robin Wentworth—is a friend of mine. I am going to see him and +speak to him."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" Curtis said.</p> + +<p>But she withstood him unfalteringly.</p> + +<p>"It is not impossible. You must let me pass. I mean to go to him, and +you cannot prevent it."</p> + +<p>He saw the hopelessness of opposing her. Her eyes told him that it was +no whim but steadfast purpose that had brought her there. He looked +beyond her to Beelzebub, but gathered no inspiration in that quarter.</p> + +<p>"Let me pass, Mr. Curtis!" said Sybil gently. "I shall take no harm. I +must see him before he dies."</p> + +<p>And Curtis yielded. He was worn out by long and fruitless watching, and +he could not cope with this fresh emergency. He yielded to her +insistence, and suffered her to pass him.</p> + +<p>"He is very far gone," he said.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_XIV'></a><h2>XIV</h2> +<br /> + +<p>As Sybil entered she heard again that strange, choked cry. The sick man +was struggling to rise, but could not.</p> + +<p>She went straight to the narrow pallet on which he lay and bent over +him.</p> + +<p>"Robin!" she said.</p> + +<p>He gave a great start, and became intensely still, lying face downwards, +his body twisted, his head on his arm.</p> + +<p>She stooped lower. She touched him. A superhuman strength was hers.</p> + +<p>"Robin," she said, "do you know me?"</p> + +<p>He turned his face a little, and she saw the malignant horror of the +disease that gripped him. It was a sight that would have turned her sick +at any other time. But to-night she knew no weakness.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" he said, in a gasping whisper.</p> + +<p>"I am Sybil," she answered steadfastly. "Don't you remember me?"</p> + +<p>He lay motionless for a little, his breathing sharp and short. At +length:</p> + +<p>"You had better get away from this pestilent hole," he panted out. "It's +no place for a woman."</p> + +<p>"I have come to nurse you," she said.</p> + +<p>"You!" He seemed to collect himself with an effort. He turned his face +fully towards her. "Didn't you marry that devil Mercer, after all?" he +gasped, gazing up at her with glassy eyes.</p> + +<p>Only by his eyes would she have known him—this man whom once long ago +she had fancied that she loved—and even they were strained and +unfamiliar. She bent her head in answer. "Yes, Robin, I married him."</p> + +<p>He began to curse inarticulately, spasmodically; but that she would not +have. She knelt down suddenly by his side, and took his hand in hers. +The terrible, disfigured countenance did not appal her, though the +memory of it would haunt her all her life.</p> + +<p>"Robin, listen!" she said earnestly. "We may not have very long +together. Let us make the most of what time we have! Don't waste your +strength! Try to tell me quietly what happened, how it was you gave me +up! I want to understand it all. I have never yet heard the truth."</p> + +<p>Her quiet words, the steady pressure of her hand, calmed him. He lay +still for a space, gazing at her.</p> + +<p>"You're not afraid?" he muttered at last.</p> + +<p>"No," she said.</p> + +<p>He continued to stare at her.</p> + +<p>"Is he—good to you?" he said.</p> + +<p>The words came with difficulty. She saw his throat working with the +convulsive effort to produce sound.</p> + +<p>Curtis touched her arm. "Give him this!"</p> + +<p>She took a cup from his hand, and held it to the swollen lips. But he +could not swallow. The liquid trickled down into his beard.</p> + +<p>"He's past it," murmured Curtis.</p> + +<p>"Sybil!" The words came with a hard, rending sound. "Is he—good to +you?"</p> + +<p>She was wiping away the spilt drops with infinite, unfaltering +tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," she answered. "He is very good to me."</p> + +<p>He uttered a great gasping sigh.</p> + +<p>"That's—all—that matters," he said, and fell silent, still gazing at +her with eyes that seemed too fixed to take her in.</p> + +<p>In the long, long silence that followed no one moved. But for those wild +eyes Sybil would have thought him sleeping.</p> + +<p>Minutes passed, and at last Curtis spoke under his breath.</p> + +<p>"You had better go. You can't do any more."</p> + +<p>But she would not stir. She had a feeling that Robin still wanted her.</p> + +<p>Suddenly through the night silence there came a sound—the hoof-beats of +a galloping horse.</p> + +<p>She turned her head and listened. "What is that?"</p> + +<p>As if in answer, Beelzebub's black face appeared in the entrance. His +eyes were distended with fright.</p> + +<p>"Missis!" he hissed in a guttural whisper.</p> + +<p>"Here's Boss comin'!" and disappeared again like a monstrous goblin.</p> + +<p>Sybil glanced up at Curtis. "Don't let him come here!" she said.</p> + +<p>But for once he seemed to be at a loss. He made no response to her +appeal. While they waited, the hoofs drew steadily nearer, thudding over +the grass.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Curtis!" she said urgently.</p> + +<p>He made a sharp, despairing gesture. "I can't help it," he said. "You +must go. For Heaven's sake, don't let him touch you, and burn the +clothes you have on as soon as possible! I am going to set fire to this +place immediately."</p> + +<p>"Going to—set fire to it?" She stared at him in surprise, still +scarcely understanding.</p> + +<p>"The poor chap is dead," he said. "It's the only thing to do."</p> + +<p>She turned back to the face upon the pillow with its staring, sightless +eyes. She raised a pitying hand to close them, but Curtis intervened.</p> + +<p>He drew her to her feet. "Go!" he said. "Go! Keep Mercer away, that's +all!"</p> + +<p>She heard the jingling of a horse's bit and knew that the rider was very +near. Mechanically almost, she turned from the place of death and went +to meet him.</p> + +<br /> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_XV'></a><h2>XV</h2> +<br /> + + +<p>He was off his horse and striding for the entrance when she encountered +him. The starlight on his face showed it livid and terrible. At sight +of her he stopped short.</p> + +<p>"Are you mad?" he said.</p> + +<p>They were the identical words that Curtis had used; but his voice, +hoarse, unnatural, told her that he was in a dangerous mood.</p> + +<p>She backed away from him. "Don't come near me!" she said quickly. +"He—he is just dead. And I have been with him."</p> + +<p>"He?" he flung at her furiously, and she knew by his tone that he +suspected the truth.</p> + +<p>She tried to answer him steadily, but her strength was beginning to fail +her. The long strain was telling upon her at last. She was uncertain of +herself.</p> + +<p>"It—was Robin Wentworth," she said.</p> + +<p>He took a swift stride towards her. His face was convulsed with passion. +"You came here to see that soddened cur?" he said.</p> + +<p>She shrank away from him. The tempest of his anger overwhelmed her. She +could not stand against it. For the first time she quailed.</p> + +<p>"I have seen him," she said. "And he is dead. Ah, don't—don't touch +me!"</p> + +<p>He paid no attention to her cry. He seized her by the shoulders and +almost swung her from his path.</p> + +<p>"It would have been better for you," he said between his teeth, "if he +had died before you got here. You have begun to repent already, and +you'll go on repenting for the rest of your life."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" she cried, seeing him turn. "Brett, don't go +in there! Don't! Don't! You must not! You shall not!"</p> + +<p>In a frenzy of fear she threw herself upon him, struggling with all her +puny strength to hold him back.</p> + +<p>"I tell you he is dead!" she gasped. "Why do you want to go in?"</p> + +<p>"I am going to see for myself," he said stubbornly, putting her away.</p> + +<p>"No!" she cried. "No!"</p> + +<p>His eyes gleamed red with a savage fury as she clung to him afresh. He +caught her wrists, forcing her backwards.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he is dead!" he snarled.</p> + +<p>"He is! He is! Mr. Curtis told me so."</p> + +<p>"If he isn't, I'll murder him!" Brett Mercer vowed, and flung her +fiercely from him.</p> + +<p>She fell with violence and lay half-stunned, while he, blinded with +rage, possessed by devils, strode forward into that silent place, +leaving her prone.</p> + +<p>She thought later that she must have fainted, for the next thing she +knew—and it must have been after the passage of several minutes—was +Mercer kneeling beside her and lifting her. His touch was perfectly +gentle, but she dared not look into his face. She cowered in his arms in +mortal fear. He had crushed her at last.</p> + +<p>"Have I hurt you?" he said.</p> + +<p>She did not answer. Her voice was gone. She was as powerless as an +infant. He raised her and bore her steadily away.</p> + +<p>When he paused finally, it was to speak to Beelzebub, who was holding +the horses. And then, without a word to her, he lifted her up on to a +saddle, and mounted himself behind her. She lay against his breast as +one dazed, incapable of speech or action. And so, with his arm about +her, moving slowly through a world of shadows, they began the long, long +journey back.</p> + +<p>They travelled so for the greater part of the night, and during the +whole of that time Mercer never uttered a word. The horse he rode was +jaded, and he did not press it. Beelzebub, with the other two, rode far +ahead.</p> + +<p>It was still dark when at last they turned in to the Home Farm, and, +still in that awful silence, Mercer dismounted and lifted his wife to +the ground.</p> + +<p>He set her on her feet, but her limbs trembled so much that she could +scarcely stand. He kept his arm around her, and led her into the house.</p> + +<p>He took her to her room and left her there; but in a few minutes he +returned with food on a tray which he set before her without raising his +eyes, and again departed. She did not see him again for many hours.</p> + +<br /> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_XVI'></a><h2>XVI</h2> +<br /> + + + +<p>From sheer exhaustion she slept at last, but her sleep was broken and +unrefreshing. She turned and tossed, dozing and waking in utter +weariness of mind and body till the day was far advanced. Finally, too +restless to lie any longer, she arose and dressed.</p> + +<p>The sound of voices took her to her window before she left her room, and +she saw her husband on horseback with Curtis standing by his side. A +sense of relief shot through her at sight of the latter. She had come to +rely upon him more than she knew. While she watched, Mercer raised his +bridle and rode slowly away without a backward glance. And again she was +conscious of relief.</p> + +<p>Curtis stood looking after him for a few seconds, then turned and +entered the house.</p> + +<p>She met him in the passage outside her room. He greeted her gravely.</p> + +<p>"I was just coming to see if I could do anything for you," he said.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she answered nervously. "I am better now. Where has my +husband gone?"</p> + +<p>He did not answer her immediately. He turned aside to the room in which +she generally sat, standing back for her to pass him. "I have something +to say to you," he said.</p> + +<p>She glanced at him anxiously as she took the chair he offered her.</p> + +<p>"In the first place," he said, "you will be wise if you keep absolutely +quiet for the next few days. There will be nothing to disturb you. +Mercer is not returning at present. He has left you in my charge."</p> + +<p>"Oh, why?" she said.</p> + +<p>Her hands were locked together. She had begun to tremble from head to +foot.</p> + +<p>Curtis was watching her quietly.</p> + +<p>"I think," he said, "that he is better away from you for a time, and he +agrees with me."</p> + +<p>"Why?" she said again, lifting her piteous eyes. "Is he so angry with +me?"</p> + +<p>"With you? No. He has come to his senses in that respect. But he is not +in a particularly safe mood, and he knows it. He has gone to fight it +out by himself."</p> + +<p>Curtis paused, but Sybil did not speak. Her attitude had relaxed. He +read unmistakble relief in every line.</p> + +<p>"Well, now," he said deliberately, "I am going to tell you the exact +truth of this business, as Mercer himself has told it to me."</p> + +<p>"He wishes me to know it?" she asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"He is willing that I should tell you," Curtis answered. "In fact, until +he saw me to-day he believed that you knew it already. That was the +primary cause of his savagery last night. You have probably formed a +very shrewd suspicion of what happened, but it is better for you to know +things as they actually stand. If it makes you hate him—well, it's no +more than he deserves."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but I have to live with him," she broke in, with sudden passion. +"It is easy for you to talk of hating him, but I—I am his wife. I must +go on living by his side, whatever I may feel."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," Curtis said. "But it won't make it any easier for either +of you to feel that there is this thing between you. Even he sees that. +You can't forgive him if you don't know what he has done."</p> + +<p>"Then why doesn't he tell me himself?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Because," Curtis answered, looking at her steadily, "it will be easier +for you to hear it from me. He saw that, too."</p> + +<p>She could not deny it, but for some reason it hurt her to hear him say +so. She had a feeling that it was to Curtis's insistence, rather than to +her husband's consideration, that she owed this present respite.</p> + +<p>"I will listen to you, then," she said.</p> + +<p>Curtis began to walk up and down the room.</p> + +<p>"First, with regard to Wentworth," he said. "There was a time once when +he occupied very much the position that I now hold. He was Mercer's +right-hand man. But he took to drink, and that did for him. I am afraid +he was never very sound. Anyhow, Mercer gave him up, and he disappeared.</p> + +<p>"After he had gone, after I took his place, we found out one or two +things he had done which might have landed him in prison if Mercer had +followed them up. However, the man was gone, and it didn't seem worth +while to track him. It was not till afterwards that we heard he was at +Bowker Creek, and Mercer was then on the point of starting for England, +and decided to leave him alone.</p> + +<p>"It's a poor place—Bowker Creek. He had got a job there as boundary +rider. I suppose he counted on the shearing season to set him up. But he +wasn't the sort of chap who ever gets on. And when Mercer met you on his +way out from the old country it was something of a shock to him to hear +that you were on your way to marry Robin Wentworth.</p> + +<p>"Of course, he ought to have told you the truth, but instead of that he +made up his mind to take the business into his own hands and marry you +himself. He cabled from Colombo to Wentworth to wait for him at Bowker +Creek, hinted that if he went to the coast he would have him arrested, +and said something vague about coming to an understanding which induced +Wentworth to obey orders.</p> + +<p>"Then he came straight here and pressed on to Rollandstown, taking +Beelzebub with him to show him the short cuts. It's a hard day's ride in +any case. He reached Bowker Creek the day after, and had it out with +Wentworth. The man had been drinking, was unreasonable, furious, finally +tried to shoot him.</p> + +<p>"Well, you know Mercer. He won't stand that sort of thing. He thrashed +him within an inch of his life, and then made him write and give you up. +It was a despicable affair from start to finish. Mercer's only excuse +was that Wentworth was not the sort of man to make any woman happy. +Finally, when he had got what he wanted, Mercer left him, after swearing +eternal vengeance on him if he ever came within reach of you. The rest +you know."</p> + +<p>Yes, Sybil knew the rest. She understood the whole story from beginning +to end, realized with what unscrupulous ingenuity she had been trapped +and wondered bitterly if she would ever endure her husband's presence +again without the shuddering sense of nausea which now overcame her at +the bare thought of him.</p> + +<p>She sat in stony silence, till at last Curtis paused beside her.</p> + +<p>"I want you to rest," he said. "I think, if you don't, the consequences +may be serious."</p> + +<p>She looked up at him uncomprehendingly.</p> + +<p>"Come, Mrs. Mercer!" he said.</p> + +<p>She shrank at the name.</p> + +<p>"Don't call me that!" she said, and stumbled uncertainly to her feet. +"I—I am going away."</p> + +<p>He put a steadying hand on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You can't," he said quietly. "You are not fit for it. Besides, there is +nowhere for you to go to. But I will get Mrs. Stevens, the innkeeper's +wife at Wallarroo, to come to you for a time. She is a good sort, you +can count on her. As for Mercer, he will not return unless you—or +I—send for him."</p> + +<p>She shivered violently, uncontrollably.</p> + +<p>"You will never send for him?"</p> + +<p>"Never," he answered, "unless you need him."</p> + +<p>She glanced around her wildly. Her eyes were hunted.</p> + +<p>"Why do you say that?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"I think you know why I say it," said Curtis very steadily.</p> + +<p>Her hands were clenched.</p> + +<p>"No!" she cried back sharply. "No!"</p> + +<p>Curtis was silent. There was deep compassion in his eyes.</p> + +<p>She glanced around her wildly. Her eyes were on his eyes.</p> + +<p>She shuddered again, shuddered from head to foot.</p> + +<p>"If I thought that," she whispered, "if I thought that, I would——"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" he interposed gently. "Don't say it! Go and lie down! You will +see things differently by and bye."</p> + +<p>She knew that he was right, and worn out, broken as she was, she moved +to obey him. But before she reached the door her little strength was +gone. She felt herself sinking swiftly into a silence that she hoped and +even prayed was death. She did not know when Curtis lifted her.</p> + +<br /> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_XVII'></a><h2>XVII</h2> +<br /> + + + +<p>During many days Sybil lay in her darkened room, facing, in weariness of +body and bitterness of soul, the problem of life. She was not actually +ill, but there were times when she longed intensely, passionately, for +death. She was weak, physically and mentally, after the long strain. +Courage and endurance had alike given way at last. She had no strength +with which to face what lay before her.</p> + +<p>So far as outward circumstances went, she was in good hands. Curtis +watched over her with a care that never flagged, and the innkeeper's +wife from Wallarroo, large and slow and patient, was her constant +attendant. But neither of them could touch or in any way soothe the +perpetual pain that throbbed night and day in the girl's heart, giving +her no rest.</p> + +<p>She left her bed at length after many days, but it was only to wander +aimlessly about the house, lacking the energy to employ herself. Her +nerves were quieter, but she still started at any sudden sound, and +would sit as one listening yet dreading to hear. Her husband's name +never passed her lips, and Curtis never made the vaguest reference to +him. He knew that sooner or later a change would come, that the long +suffering that lined her face must draw at last to a climax; but he +would do nothing to hasten it. He believed that Nature would eventually +find her own remedy.</p> + +<p>But Nature is ever slow, and sometimes the wheel of life moves too +quickly for her methods to take effect.</p> + +<p>Sybil was sitting one day by an open window when Beelzebub dashed +suddenly into view. He was on horseback, riding barebacked, and was +evidently in a ferment of excitement. He bawled some incoherent words as +he passed the window, words which Sybil could not distinguish, but which +nevertheless sent a sharp sense of foreboding through her heart. Had +he—or had he not—yelled something to her about "Boss"? She could not +possibly have said, but the suspicion was sufficiently strong to rouse +her to lean out of the window and try to catch something of what the boy +was saying.</p> + +<p>He had reached the yard, and had flung himself off the sweating animal. +As she peered forth she caught sight of Curtis coming out of the stable. +Beelzebub saw him too, and broke out afresh with his wild cry. This +time, straining her ears to listen, she caught the words, all jumbled +together though they were.</p> + +<p>"Boss got smallpox!"</p> + +<p>She saw Curtis stop dead, and she wondered if his heart, like hers, had +ceased to beat. The next instant he moved forward, and for the first +time she saw him deliberately punch the gesticulating negro's woolly +head. Beelzebub cried out like a whipped dog and slunk back. Then, very +calmly, Curtis took him by the scruff of his neck, and began to question +him.</p> + +<p>Sybil stood, gripping the curtain, and watched it all as one watches a +scene on the stage. Somehow, though she knew herself to be vitally +concerned, she felt no agitation. It was as if the blood had ceased to +run in her veins.</p> + +<p>At length she saw Curtis release the palpitating Beelzebub, and turn +towards the house. Quite calmly she also turned.</p> + +<p>They met in the passage.</p> + +<p>"You needn't trouble to keep it from me," she said. "I know."</p> + +<p>He gave her a keen look.</p> + +<p>"I am going to him at once," was all he said.</p> + +<p>She stood quite still, facing him; and suddenly she was conscious of a +great glow pulsing through her, as though some arrested force had been +set free. She knew that her heart was beating again, strongly, steadily, +fearlessly.</p> + +<p>"I shall come with you," she said.</p> + +<p>She saw his face change.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," he said, "but that is out of the question. You must know +it."</p> + +<p>She answered him instantly, unhesitatingly, with some of the old, quick +spirit that had won Brett Mercer's heart.</p> + +<p>"There you are wrong. I know it to be the only thing possible for me to +do."</p> + +<p>Curtis looked at her for a second as if he scarcely knew her, and then +abruptly abandoned the argument.</p> + +<p>"I will not be responsible," he said, turning aside.</p> + +<p>And she answered him unfalteringly:</p> + +<p>"I will take the responsibility."</p> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_XVIII'></a><h2>XVIII</h2> +<br /> + + + +<p>Slowly Brett Mercer raised himself and tried to peer through his swollen +eyelids at the door.</p> + +<p>"Don't bring any woman here!" he mumbled.</p> + +<p>The effort to see was fruitless. He sank back, blind and tortured, upon +the pillow. He had been taken ill at one of his own outlying farms, and +here he had lain for days—a giant bereft of his strength, waiting for +death.</p> + +<p>His only attendant was a farm-hand who had had the disease, but knew +nothing of its treatment, who was, moreover, afraid to go near him.</p> + +<p>Curtis took in the whole situation at a glance as he bent over him.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you send for me?" he said.</p> + +<p>"That you?" gasped Mercer. "Man, I'm in hell! Can't you give me +something to put me out of my misery?"</p> + +<p>Curtis was already at work over him.</p> + +<p>"No," he said briefly. "I'm going to pull you through. You're wanted."</p> + +<p>"You lie!" gasped back Mercer, and said no more.</p> + +<p>Some hours after, starting suddenly from fevered sleep, he asked an +abrupt question:</p> + +<p>"Does my wife know?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she knows," Curtis answered.</p> + +<p>He flung his arms wide with a bitter gesture. "She'll soon be free," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Not if I know it," said Curtis, in his quiet, unemotional style.</p> + +<p>"You can't make me live against my will," muttered Mercer.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk like a fool!" responded Curtis.</p> + +<p>Late that night a hand that was not Curtis's smoothed the sick man's +pillow, and presently gave him nourishment. He noticed the difference +instantly, though he could not open his eyes; but he said nothing at the +time, and she fancied he did not know her.</p> + +<p>But presently, when she thought him sleeping, he spoke.</p> + +<p>"When did you come?"</p> + +<p>Even then she was not sure that he was in his right mind. His face was +so swollen and disfigured that it told her nothing. She answered him +very softly:</p> + +<p>"I came with Mr. Curtis."</p> + +<p>"Why?" That one word told her that he was in full possession of his +senses. He moved his head to and fro on the pillow as one vainly seeking +rest. "Did you want to see me in hell?" he questioned harshly.</p> + +<p>She leaned towards him. She was sitting by his bed.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, speaking under her breath. "I came because—because it +was the only way out—for us both."</p> + +<p>"What?" he said, and the old impatient frown drew his forehead. "You +came to see me die, then?"</p> + +<p>"I came," she answered, "to try and make you live."</p> + +<p>He drew a breath that was a groan.</p> + +<p>"You won't succeed," he said.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Again feverishly he moved his head, and she smoothed his pillow afresh +with hands that trembled.</p> + +<p>"Don't touch me!" he said sharply. "What was Curtis dreaming of to bring +you here?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Curtis couldn't help it," she answered, with more assurance. "I +came." And then after a moment, "Are you—sorry—I came?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he muttered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why?" she said.</p> + +<p>"I would sooner die—without you looking on," he said, forcing out his +words through set teeth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why?" she said again. "Don't you believe—can't you believe—that I +want you to live?"</p> + +<p>"No," he groaned.</p> + +<p>"Not if I swear it?" she asked, her voice sunk very low.</p> + +<p>"No!" He flung the word with something of his ancient ferocity. She was +torturing him past endurance. He even madly hoped that he could scare +her away.</p> + +<p>But Sybil made no move to go. She sat quite still for a few seconds. +Then slowly she went down upon her knees beside his pillow.</p> + +<p>"Brett," she said, and he felt her breath quick and tremulous upon his +face as she spoke, "you may refuse to believe what I say. But—I can +convince you without words."</p> + +<p>And before he knew her meaning, she had pressed her quivering lips to +his.</p> + +<p>He recoiled, with an anguished sound that was half of protest and half +of unutterable pain.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to die too?" he said. "Or don't you know the risk?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know it," she answered. "I know it," and in her voice was such a +thrill of passion as he had never heard or thought to hear from her. +"But I know this, too, and I mean that you shall know it. My life is +nothing to me—do you understand?—nothing, unless you share it. +Now—will you believe me?"</p> + +<p>Yes, he believed her then. He had no choice. The knowledge was as a +sword cutting its way straight to his heart. He tried to answer her, +tried desperately hard, because he knew that she was waiting for him to +speak, that his silence would hurt her who from that day forward he +would never hurt again.</p> + +<p>But no words would come. He could not force his utterance. The power of +speech was gone from him. He turned his face away from her in choking +tears.</p> + +<p>And Sybil knew that the victory was hers. Those tears were more to her +than words. She knew that he would live—if he could—for her sake.</p> + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Dragon_XIX'></a><h2>XIX</h2> +<br /> + + + +<p>It was more than six weeks later that Brett Mercer and his wife turned +in at the Home Farm, as they had turned in on that memorable night that +he had brought his bride from Wallarroo.</p> + +<p>Now, as then, Curtis was ready for them in the open doorway, and +Beelzebub advanced grinning to take the horses. But there the +resemblance ceased. The woman who entered with her husband leaning on +her shoulder was no nervous, shrinking stranger, but a wife entering her +home with gladness, bearing her burden with rejoicing. The woman from +Wallarroo looked at her with a doubtful sort of sympathy. She also +looked at the gaunt, bowed man who accompanied her, and questioned with +herself if this were indeed Brett Mercer.</p> + +<p>Brett Mercer it undoubtedly was, nor could she have said, save for his +slow, stooping gait, wherein lay the change that so amazed her.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was more apparent in Sybil than in the man himself as she +raised her face on entering, and murmured:</p> + +<p>"So good to get home again, isn't it, dear?"</p> + +<p>He did not speak in answer. He scarcely spoke at all that night. But his +silence satisfied her.</p> + +<p>It was not till the following morning that he stretched out a great, +bony hand to her as she waited on him, and drew her down to his side.</p> + +<p>"There has been enough of this," he said, with a touch of his old +imperiousness. "You have worked too hard already, harder than I ever +meant you to work. You are to take a rest, and get strong."</p> + +<p>She uttered her gay little laugh.</p> + +<p>"My dearest Brett, I am strong."</p> + +<p>He lay staring at her in his most direct, disconcerting fashion. She +endured his look for a moment, and then averted her eyes. She would have +risen, but he prevented her.</p> + +<p>"Sybil!" he said abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" she answered, with her head bent.</p> + +<p>"Are you afraid of me?" he said.</p> + +<p>She shook her head instantly.</p> + +<p>"Don't be absurd!"</p> + +<p>"Then look at me!" he said.</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes slowly, not very willingly. But, having raised them, +she kept them so, for there was that in his look which no longer made +her shy.</p> + +<p>He made a slight gesture towards her that was rather of invitation than +insistence.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think I'm nearly well enough to be let into the secret?" he +said.</p> + +<p>His action, his tone, above all his look, broke down the last of the +barrier between them. She went into his arms with a shaky little laugh, +and hid her face against him.</p> + +<p>"I would have told you long ago," she whispered, "only somehow—I +couldn't. Besides, I was so sure that you knew."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I knew," said Mercer. "Curtis saw to that; literally flayed me +with it till I took his advice and cleared out. You know, I've often +wondered since if it was that that made you want me, after all."</p> + +<p>She shook her head, still with her face against his breast.</p> + +<p>"No, dear, it wasn't. It—it made things worse at first. It was only +when I heard you were ill that—that I found—quite suddenly—that I +couldn't possibly go on without you. It was as if—as if something bound +round my heart had suddenly given way, and I could breathe again. When I +saw you I knew how terribly I wanted you."</p> + +<p>"And that was how you came to kiss me with that loathsome disease upon +me?" he whispered. "That was what made you follow me down to hell to +bring me back?"</p> + +<p>She turned her face upwards. Her eyes were shining.</p> + +<p>"My dear," she said, and in her voice was a thrill like the first sweet +notes of a bird in the dawning, "you don't need to ask me why did these +things. For you know—you know. It was simply and only because I loved +you."</p> + +<p>"Heaven knows why," he said, as he bent to kiss her.</p> + +<p>"Heavens knows," she answered, and softly laughed as she surrendered her +lips to his.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='The_Secret_Service_Man'></a><h2>The Secret Service Man</h2> + +<h2>I</h2> + +<h2>A TIGHT PLACE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Shoulder to shoulder, boys! Give it 'em straight! There's no going back +this journey." And the speaker slapped his thigh and laughed.</p> + +<p>He was penned in a hot corner with a handful of grinning little +Goorkhas, as ready and exultant as himself. He had no earthly business +in that particular spot. But he had won his way there in a hand-to-hand +combat, which had rendered that bit of ground the most desirable +abiding-place on the face of the earth. And being there he meant to +stay.</p> + +<p>He was established with the inimitable effrontery of British insolence. +He had pushed on through the dark, fired by the enthusiasm which is born +of hard resistence. It had been no slight matter, but neither he nor his +men were to be easily dismayed. Moreover, their patience had been +severely tried for many tedious hours, and the removal of the curb had +gone to their heads like wine.</p> + +<p>Young Derrick Rose, war correspondent, was hot of head and ready of +hand. He had a knack also of getting into tight places and extricating +himself therefrom with amazing agility; which knack served to procure +for him the admiration of his friends and the respect of his enemies. It +was his first Frontier campaign, but it was not apparently destined to +be his last, for he bore a charmed life. And he went his way with a +cheery recklessness that seemed its own security.</p> + +<p>On the present occasion he had planted himself, with a serene assumption +of authority, at the head of a handful of Goorkhas who had been pressed +forward too far by an over-zealous officer in the darkness, and had lost +their leader in consequence.</p> + +<p>Derrick had stumbled on the group and had forthwith taken upon himself +to direct them to a position which, with a good deal of astuteness, he +had marked out in his own mind earlier in the day as a desirable +acquisition.</p> + +<p>There had been a hand-to-hand scuffle in the darkness, and then the +tribesmen had fallen back, believing themselves overwhelmed by superior +numbers.</p> + +<p>Derrick and his Goorkhas had promptly taken possession of the rocky +eminence which was the object of their desire, and now prepared, with +commendable determination, to maintain themselves at the post thus +captured; an impossible feat in consideration of the paucity of their +numbers, which fact a wily enemy had already begun to suspect.</p> + +<p>That the main force could by any means fail them was a possibility over +which for long neither Derrick nor his followers wasted a thought. +Nevertheless half-an-hour of mad turmoil passed, and no help came.</p> + +<p>Derrick charitably set down its non-appearance to ignorance of his state +and whereabouts, and he began at length to wonder within himself how the +place was to be defended throughout the night. Retreat he would not +think of, for he was game to the finger-tips. But even he could not fail +to see that, when the moon rose, he and his followers would be in a very +tight fix.</p> + +<p>"Confound their caution! What are they thinking of?" he muttered +savagely. "If they only came straight ahead they would be bound to find +us."</p> + +<p>And then a yelling crowd of dim figures breasted the rocks and dashed +forward with the force of a hurricane upon the little body of Goorkhas. +In a second Derrick was fighting in the dark with mad enthusiasm for +bare foothold, and shouting at the top of his voice exhortations to his +men to keep together.</p> + +<p>It was a desperate struggle, but once more the little party of invaders +held their ground. And Derrick, yelling encouragement to his friends and +defiance to his foes, became vaguely conscious of a new element in the +strife.</p> + +<p>Someone, not a Goorkha, was standing beside him, fighting as he fought, +but in grim silence.</p> + +<p>Derrick wondered considerably, but was too busy to ask questions. Only +when he missed his footing, and a strong hand shot out and dragged him +up, his wonder turned to admiration. Here was evidently a mighty +fighting-man!</p> + +<p>The tribesmen drew off at length baffled, to wait for the moon to rise. +They were pretty sure of their prey despite the determined resistance +they had encountered. They did not know of the new force that had come +to strengthen that forsaken little knot of men. Had they known, their +estimate of the task before them would have undergone a very material +amendment.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" said Derrick, rubbing his sleeve across his forehead. "Where on +earth did you spring from?"</p> + +<p>A steady voice answered him out of the gloom. "I came up from the +valley. The troops are halted at the entrance of the ravine. There will +be no further advance to-night."</p> + +<p>Derrick swore a sudden, fierce oath.</p> + +<p>"No further advance! Do you mean that? Then Carlyon doesn't know we are +here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, he knows," answered the man indifferently. "But he says very +reasonably that he didn't order you to come up here, and he can't +sacrifice twice the number of men here to get you down again. +Unfortunate for you, of course; but we all have to swallow bad luck at +one time or another. Make the best of it!"</p> + +<p>Derrick swore again with less violence and greater resolution.</p> + +<p>"And who, in wonder, may you be?" he broke off to enquire. "I'm a war +correspondent myself."</p> + +<p>There was a vein of humour in the quiet reply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm a non-combatant, too. It's always the non-combatants that do +the work. Have you got a revolver? Good! Any cartridges? That's right. +Now, look here, it's out of the question to remain in this place till +moonrise."</p> + +<p>"I won't go back," said Derrick doggedly. "I'll see Carlyon hang first."</p> + +<p>"Quite right. I wasn't going to propose that. It's impossible, in the +first place. Perhaps it is only fair to Colonel Carlyon to mention that +he had no notion that there is anything so important as a newspaper man +at the head of this expedition. It's a detail, of course. Still, if you +get through, it is just as well that you should know the rights of the +case."</p> + +<p>Derrick broke into an involuntary laugh.</p> + +<p>"Did Carlyon get you to come and tell me so?" He turned and peered +through the darkness at the man beside him. "You never got up here +alone?" he said incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. It wasn't difficult. I was guided by the noise you made. How +many men have you?"</p> + +<p>"Ten or twelve; not more—all Goorkhas."</p> + +<p>"Good! We must quit this place at once. It will be a death-trap when the +moon rises. There are some boulders higher up, away to the right. We +can occupy them till morning and fight back to back if they try to rush +us. There ought to be plenty of shelter among those rocks."</p> + +<p>The man's cool speech caught Derrick's fancy. He spoke as quietly as if +he were sitting at an English dinner-table.</p> + +<p>"You had better take command," said Derrick.</p> + +<p>"No, thanks; you are going to pull this through. Are you ready to move? +Pass the word to the men! And then all together! It is now or never!"</p> + +<p>A few seconds later they were stumbling in an indistinguishable mass +towards the haven indicated by the latest comer. It was a difficult +scramble, not the least difficult part of it being the task of keeping +in touch with each other. But Derrick's spirits returned at a bound with +this further adventure, and he began to rejoice somewhat prematurely in +his triumph over Carlyon's caution.</p> + +<p>The man who had come to his assistance kept at his elbow throughout the +climb. Not a word was spoken. The men moved like cats through the +dimness. Below them was a confused din of rifle-firing. Their advance +had evidently not been detected.</p> + +<p>"Silly owls! Wasting their ammunition!" murmured Derrick to the man +beside him. He received no response. A warning hand closed with a grip +on his elbow. And Derrick subsided.</p> + +<p>When the moon rose, magnificent and glowing from behind the mountains, +Derrick and his men looked down from a high perch on the hillside, and +watched a furious party of tribesmen charge and occupy their abandoned +position.</p> + +<p>"Now, this is good!" said Derrick, and he was in the act of firing his +revolver into the thick of the crowd below him when again the sinewy +hand of his unknown friend checked him.</p> + +<p>"Hold your fire, man!" the man said, in his quiet, unmoved voice. "You +will want it presently."</p> + +<p>But the stranger's hold tightened. He was standing in the shadow +slightly behind Derrick.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" he said. "They will find you soon enough. You are not in a +position to take the offensive."</p> + +<p>Derrick swung round with a restless word. And then he pulled up short. +He was facing a tribesman, gaunt and tall, with odd, light eyes that +glittered strangely in the moonlight. Derrick stared at the apparition, +dumbfounded. After a pause the man took his hand from the +correspondent's arm.</p> + +<p>"Don't give the show away for want of a little caution!" he said. "There +are your men to think of, remember. This is no picnic."</p> + +<p>Derrick was still staring hard at the strange figure before him.</p> + +<p>"I say," he said at length, "what in the name of wonder are you?"</p> + +<p>He heard a faint, contemptuous laugh. The unknown drew the end of his +<i>chuddah</i> farther across his face.</p> + +<p>"You are marvellously guileless for a war correspondent," he said. And +he turned on his heel and stalked away into the shadows.</p> + +<p>Derrick stood gazing after him in stupefaction.</p> + +<p>"A Secret Service agent, is he?" he murmured at length to himself. "By +Jove! What a marvellous fake! On Carlyon's business, I suppose. Confound +Carlyon! I'll tell him what I think of him if I come through this all +right."</p> + +<p>Carlyon, in times of peace, was one of Derrick Rose's most intimate +friends. That Carlyon, upon whom he relied as upon a tower of strength +should fail him at such a pinch as this, and for motives of caution +alone, was a circumstance so preposterous and unheard-of that Derrick's +credulity was hardly equal to the strain.</p> + +<p>He began to wonder if this stranger who had guided him into safety, from +what he now realized to be a positive death-trap, had given him a wholly +unexaggerated account of Carlyon's attitude.</p> + +<p>He waited awhile, thinking the matter over with rising indignation; and +at length, as the noise below him subsided, he moved from his shelter to +find his informant. It was a rash thing to do, but prudence was not his +strong point. Moreover, the Secret Service man had aroused his +curiosity. He wanted to see more of this fellow. So, with an +indifference to danger, foolhardy, though too genuine to be +contemptible, he strolled across an unprotected space of moonlight to +join him.</p> + +<p>Two seconds later he was lying on his face, struggling with the futile, +convulsive effort of a stricken man to recover his footing. And even +while he struggled, he lost consciousness.</p> + +<p>He awoke at length as one awakes from a troublous dream, and looked +about him with a dazed consciousness of great tumult.</p> + +<p>The space in which he lay was no longer wide and empty. The white world +was peopled with demons that leapt and surged around his prostrate body. +And someone, a man in white, with naked, uplifted arms, stood above him +and quelled the tumult.</p> + +<p>Derrick saw it all, heard the mad yells lessen and die down, watched +with a dumb amazement the melting away of the fierce crowd.</p> + +<p>And then the man who stood over him turned suddenly and, kneeling, +lifted him from his prostrate position. It was a man in native dress +whose eyes held for Derrick an odd, half-familiar fascination.</p> + +<p>Where had he met those eyes before? Ah, he remembered. It was the Secret +Service man. And that was strange, too. For Carlyon always scoffed at +Secret Service men. Still, this was a small matter which, no doubt, +would right itself. Everything looked a little peculiar and distorted on +this night of wonders. Carlyon himself had sadly degenerated in his +opinion since the morning. Bother Carlyon!</p> + +<p>Suddenly a great sigh burst from Derrick, and the moonlight broke up +into tiny, dazzling fragments. The darkness was full of them, alive +with them.</p> + +<p>"Fire-flies!" gasped Derrick, and began to cough, at first slowly, with +pauses for breath, then quickly, spasmodically, convulsively. For breath +had finally failed him.</p> + +<p>The arm behind him raised him with the steady strength of iron muscles, +and a hand pressed his chest. But the coughing did not cease. It was the +anguished strife of wounded Nature to assert her damaged authority; the +wild, last effort to clutch and hold fast the elusive torch that, +flickering in the midst of darkness, is called life—the one priceless +possession of our little mortal treasury.</p> + +<p>And while he coughed and fought with the demon of suffocation Derrick +was strongly aware of the eyes that watched him, burning like two +brilliant blue points out of the darkness. Wonderful eyes! Steady, +strong, unflinching. The eyes of a friend—a true friend—not such an +one as Carlyon—Carlyon who had failed him.</p> + +<p>A thick, unexplored darkness fell upon Derrick as he thought of +Carlyon's desertion; and he forgot at length to wonder at the +strangeness of the night.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Secret_II'></a><h2>II</h2> + +<h2>A BROKEN FRIENDSHIP</h2> +<br /> + +<p>By and bye, when the light dawned in his eyes, Derrick began to dream of +many strange things.</p> + +<p>But he came back at last out of the shadows, weak and faint and weary. +And then he found that he was in hospital and had been there for weeks.</p> + +<p>The discovery was rather staggering. Somehow he had never quite rid +himself of the impression that he was still lying on the great, rocky +boulder where the Secret Service man had so magically scattered his +enemies. But as life and full consciousness returned to him he became +aware that this had for weeks been no more than a fevered illusion.</p> + +<p>When he was at length fairly out of danger he was dispatched southwards +on the first stage of the homeward journey.</p> + +<p>He sailed for Home with his resentment against Carlyon yet strong upon +him. He had no parents. In his reckless young days, during the last +three years of his minority, Carlyon had been this boy's guardian. But +Derrick had been his own master for nearly four years, and the conscious +joy of independence was yet dear to his heart. He had no settled home of +his own, but he had plenty of money. And that, after all, was the +essential thing.</p> + +<p>He had been brought up with the daughter of a clergyman in whose home he +had lived all his early life. The two had grown up together in close +companionship. They had been comrades all their lives.</p> + +<p>Only of recent years, at the end of an uneventful college career, had +Derrick awakened to the astounding fact that Averil Eversley, his little +playmate, was a maiden sweet and comely whom he wanted badly for his +very own. She was three years younger than himself, but she had always +taken the lead in all their exploits.</p> + +<p>Derrick discovered for the first time that this was not a proper state +of affairs. He had tried, not over tactfully, to show her that man was, +after all, the superior animal. Averil had first stared at his efforts, +and then laughed with uncontrollable mirth.</p> + +<p>Then Derrick had set to work with splendid energy, and achieved in two +years a certain amount of literary success. Averil had praised him for +this; which reward of merit had so turned his head that he had at once +clumsily proposed to her. Averil had not laughed at that. She had +rejected him instantly, with so severe a scolding that Derrick had lost +his temper, and gone away to sulk. Later, he had turned his attention +again to journalistic work, hoping thereby to recover favour.</p> + +<p>Then, and this had brought him to the previous winter, he had returned +to find Averil going in for a little innocent hero-worship on her own +account. And Carlyon, his own particular friend and adviser, had +happened to be the hero.</p> + +<p>Whether Carlyon were aware of the state of affairs or not, Derrick in +his wrath had not stopped to enquire. He had simply and blindly gone +direct to the attack, with the result that Averil had been deeply and +irreconcilably offended, and Carlyon had so nearly kicked him for making +such a fool of himself that Derrick had retired in disgust from the +fray, had clamoured for and, with infinite difficulty, obtained a post +as war-correspondent in the ensuing Frontier campaign, and had departed +on his adventurous way, sulking hard.</p> + +<p>Later, Carlyon had sought him out, had shaken hands with him, called him +an impetuous young ass, and had enjoined him to stick to himself during +the expedition in which Derrick was thus recklessly determined to take +part. They had, in fact, been entirely reconciled, avoiding by mutual +consent the delicate ground of their dispute. Carlyon was a man of +considerable reputation on the Frontier, and Derrick Rose was secretly +proud of the friendship that existed between them.</p> + +<p>Now, however, the friendship had split to its very foundation. Carlyon +had failed him when life itself had been in the balance.</p> + +<p>Impetuous as he was, Derrick was not one to forgive quickly so gross an +injury as this. He did not think, moreover, that Averil herself would +continue to offer homage before so obvious a piece of clay as her idol +had proved himself to be. Derrick was beginning to apply to Carlyon the +most odious of all epithets—that of coward.</p> + +<p>He had set his heart upon a reconciliation with Averil, and earnestly he +hoped she would see the matter with his eyes.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Secret_III'></a><h2>III</h2> + +<h2>DERRICK'S PARADISE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"So it was the Secret Service man who saved your life," said Averil, +with flushed cheeks. "Really, Dick, how splendid of him!"</p> + +<p>"Finest chap I ever saw!" declared Derrick. "He looked about eight feet +high in native dress. I shall have to find that man some day, and tell +him what I think of him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed!" agreed Averil. "I expect, you know, it was really Colonel +Carlyon who sent him."</p> + +<p>"Being too great a—strategist to advance himself," said Derrick.</p> + +<p>"But he didn't know you were at the head of the Goorkhas," Averil +reminded him.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," said Derrick. "But he knew I was there. And, putting me +out of the question altogether, what can you think of an officer who +will coolly leave a party of his men to be slaughtered like sheep in a +butcher's yard because the poor beggars happen to have got into a tight +place?"</p> + +<p>Derrick spoke with strong indignation, and Averil was silent awhile. +Presently, however, she spoke again, slowly.</p> + +<p>"I can't help thinking, Dick," she said, "that there is an explanation +somewhere. We ought not—it would not be fair—to say Colonel Carlyon +acted unworthily before he has had a chance of justifying himself."</p> + +<p>There was justice in this remark. Derrick, who was lying at the girl's +feet on the hearthrug in the Rectory drawing-room, reached up a bony +hand and took possession of one of hers. For Averil had received him +with a warmer welcome than he had deemed possible in his most sanguine +moments, and he was very happy in consequence.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said equably. "We'll shunt Carlyon for a bit, and talk +about ourselves. Shall we?"</p> + +<p>Averil drew the bony hand on to her lap and looked at it critically.</p> + +<p>"Poor old boy!" she said. "It is thin."</p> + +<p>Derrick drew himself up to a sitting position. There was an air of +mastery about him as he raised a determined face to hers.</p> + +<p>"Averil," he said suddenly, "you aren't going to send me to the +right-about again, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't let us squabble on your first night!'" said Averil hastily.</p> + +<p>"Squabble!" the boy exclaimed, springing to his feet vigorously. "Do you +call—that—squabbling?"</p> + +<p>Averil stood up, too, tall and straight, and slightly defiant.</p> + +<p>"I don't want you to go away, Dick," she said, "if you can stay and +behave nicely. I thought it was horribly selfish of you to go off as you +did last winter. I think so still. If you had got killed, I should have +been very—very—"</p> + +<p>"What?" demanded Derrick impatiently. "Sorry? Angry—what?"</p> + +<p>"Angry," said Averil, with great decision. "I should never have forgiven +you. I am not sure that I shall, as it is."</p> + +<p>Derrick uttered a sudden passionate laugh. Then abruptly his mood +changed. He held out his hands to her.</p> + +<p>"Averil!" he said. "Averil! Can't you see how I want you—how I love +you? Why do you treat me like this? I've thought about you, dreamt about +you, day after day, night after night, ever since I went away. You +thought it beastly selfish of me to go. But it hasn't been such fun, +after all. All the weeks I was in hospital I felt sick for the sight of +you. It was worse than starvation. Can't you see what it is to me? Can't +you see that I—I worship you?"</p> + +<p>"My dear Dick!" Averil put her hands into his, but her gesture was one +of restraint. "You mustn't talk so wildly," she said. "And, dear boy, do +try not to be quite so impulsive—so headstrong. You know, you—you—"</p> + +<p>She broke off. Derrick, with a set jaw and burning eyes, was drawing her +to him, strongly, irresistibly.</p> + +<p>"Derrick!" she said, with a flash of anger.</p> + +<p>"I can't help it!" Derrick said passionately. "I've been counting on +this, living for this. Averil I—I—you can call me mad if you like, +but if you send me away again—I believe I shall shoot myself."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense!" exclaimed Averil, half-angry, half-scornful.</p> + +<p>He dropped her hands and stood quite still for the space of a few +seconds, his face white and twitching. And then, to her utter amazement, +he sank heavily into a chair and covered his face with his hands.</p> + +<p>"Dick!" she ejaculated.</p> + +<p>Silence followed the word, a breathless silence. Derrick sat perfectly +motionless, his fingers gripping his hair. At last Averil moved up to +him, a little frightened by his stillness, and very intensely +compassionate. She bent and touched his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Dick!" she said. "Dick! Don't!"</p> + +<p>He stirred under her hand, but did not raise his head. "Get away, +Averil!" he muttered. "You don't understand."</p> + +<p>And quite suddenly Averil was transported back to the far, receding +schooldays, when Derrick had got into trouble for smoking his first +cigar. The memory unconsciously influenced her speech.</p> + +<p>"But, Dick," she said persuasively, "don't you think you are the least +bit in the world unreasonable? It's true I don't quite understand. We've +been such splendid chums all our lives, I really don't see why we should +begin to be anything different now. Besides, Dick"—there was appeal in +her voice—"I don't truly want to get married. It seems such a silly +thing to go and do when one had such really jolly times without. It does +spoil things so."</p> + +<p>Derrick sat up. He was still absurdly boyish, despite his +four-and-twenty years.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Averil!" he said doggedly. "If you won't have me, I'm not +going to hang about after you like a tame monkey. It's going to be one +thing or the other. I've made a big enough fool of myself over you. We +can't be chums, as you call it"—a passionate ring crept into his +voice—"when all the while you're holding me off at arm's length as if +I'd got the plague. So"—rising abruptly and facing her—"which is it to +be?"</p> + +<p>Averil looked at him. His face was still white, but his lips were +sternly compressed. He was weak no longer. She was conscious of a sudden +thrill of admiration banishing her pity. After all, was he indeed only a +boy? He scarcely seemed so at that moment. He was, moreover, straight +and handsome despite his gaunt appearance.</p> + +<p>"Answer me, Averil!" he said with determination.</p> + +<p>But Averil had no answer ready. She stood silent.</p> + +<p>Derrick laid his hand on her arm. It was a light touch, but somehow it +conveyed to her the fact that he was holding himself in with a tighter +rein than ever before.</p> + +<p>"Don't torture me!" he said, speaking quickly, nervously. "Tell me +either to stay or—go!" His voice dropped on the last word, and for a +second Averil saw the torture on his face.</p> + +<p>It was too much for her resolution. All her life she had been this boy's +chosen companion and confidante. She felt she could not turn from him +now in his distress, and deliberately break his heart. Yet for one +tumultuous second she battled with her impulse. Then—she yielded. +Somehow that look in Derrick's eyes compelled her.</p> + +<p>She put her hands on his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Dick—stay!" she said.</p> + +<p>His arms closed round her in a second. "You mean—" he said, under his +breath.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dick," she answered bravely, "I do mean. Dear boy, don't ever look +like that again! You have hurt me horribly."</p> + +<p>Derrick turned her face up to his own and kissed her repeatedly and +passionately.</p> + +<p>"You shall never regret it, my darling," he said. "You have turned my +world into a paradise. I will do the same for yours."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't take much to make me happy," Averil said, leaning her +forehead against his shoulder. "I hope you will be a kind master, Dick, +and let me have my own way sometimes."</p> + +<p>"Master?" scoffed Derrick, kissing her hair. "You know you can lead me +by the nose from world's end to world's end."</p> + +<p>"I wonder," said Averil, with a little sigh. "Do you know, Dick, I'm not +quite sure of that."</p> + +<p>"What!" said Derrick softly. "Not—quite—sure!"</p> + +<p>"Not when you look as you did thirty seconds ago," Averil explained. +"Never mind, dear old boy! I'm glad you can look like that, though, +mind, you must never, never do it again if you live to be a hundred."</p> + +<p>She looked up at him suddenly and clasped her hands behind his neck. +"You do love me, don't you, Dick?" she said.</p> + +<p>"My darling, I worship you!" Derrick answered very solemnly.</p> + +<p>And Averil drew his head down with a quivering smile and kissed him on +the lips.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Secret_IV'></a><h2>IV</h2> + +<h2>CARLYON DEFENDS HIMSELF</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Ah, Derrick! I thought I could not be mistaken."</p> + +<p>Derrick turned swiftly at the touch of a hand on his shoulder, and +nearly tumbled into the roadway. He had been sauntering somewhat +aimlessly down the Strand till pulled up in this rather summary fashion. +He now found himself staring at a tall man who had come up behind him—a +man with a lined face and drooping eyelids, and a settled weariness +about his whole demeanour which, somehow, conveyed the impression that, +in his opinion, at least, there was nothing on earth worth striving for.</p> + +<p>Derrick recovered his balance and stood still before him. Speech, +however, quite unexpectedly failed him. The quiet greeting had scattered +his ideas momentarily.</p> + +<p>The hand that had touched his shoulder was deliberately transferred to +his elbow.</p> + +<p>"Come!" said his acquaintance, smiling a little. "We are blocking the +gangway. I am staying at the Grand. If you are at liberty you might dine +with me. By the way, how are you, old fellow?"</p> + +<p>He spoke very quietly and wholly without affectation. There was a touch +of tenderness in his last sentence that quite restored Derrick's +faculties.</p> + +<p>He shook his arm free from the other's hand with a vehemence of action +that was unmistakably hostile.</p> + +<p>"No, thanks, Colonel Carlyon!" he said, speaking fast and feverishly. +"If I were starving, I wouldn't accept hospitality from you!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool!" said Carlyon.</p> + +<p>His tone was still quiet, but it was also stern. He pushed a determined +hand through Derrick's arm. "If you won't come my way," he said, "I +shall come yours."</p> + +<p>Derrick swore under his breath. But he yielded. "Very well," he said +aloud. "I'll come. But I swear I won't touch anything."</p> + +<p>"You needn't swear," said Carlyon; "it's unnecessary."</p> + +<p>And Derrick bit his lip nearly through, being exasperated. He did not, +however, resist the compelling hand a second time, realizing the +futility of such a proceeding.</p> + +<p>So in dead silence they reached the Grand and entered. Then Carlyon +spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Come up to my room first!" he said.</p> + +<p>Derrick went with him unprotesting.</p> + +<p>In his own room Carlyon turned round and took him by the shoulders. +"Now," he said, "are you ill or merely sulky? Just tell me which, and I +shall know how to treat you!"</p> + +<p>"It's no thanks to you I'm not dead!" exclaimed Derrick stormily. "I +didn't want to meet you, but, by Heaven, since I have, and since you +have forced an interview upon me, I'll go ahead and tell you what I +think of you."</p> + +<p>Carlyon turned away from him and sat down. "Do, by all means," he said, +"if it will get you into a healthier frame of mind!"</p> + +<p>But Derrick's flow of eloquence unexpectedly failed him at this +juncture, and he stood awkwardly silent.</p> + +<p>Carlyon turned round at last and looked at him. "Sit down, Dick," he +said patiently, "and stop being an ass! I'm a difficult man to quarrel +with, as you know. So sit down and state your grievance, and have done +with it!"</p> + +<p>"You know very well what's wrong!" Derrick burst out fiercely, +beginning to prowl to and fro.</p> + +<p>"Do I?" said Carlyon. He got up deliberately and intercepted Derrick. +"Just stop tramping," he said, with sudden sternness, "and listen to me! +You have your wound alone to thank for keeping you out of the worst mess +you ever got into. If you hadn't gone back in a hospital truck, you +would have gone back under escort. Do you understand that?"</p> + +<p>"Why?" flashed Derrick.</p> + +<p>"Why?" echoed Carlyon, striking him abruptly on the shoulder. "Tell me +your own opinion of a hot-headed, meddling young fool who not only got +into mischief himself at a most critical moment, but led half-a-score of +valuable men into what was practically a death-trap, for the sake of, I +suppose he would call it, an hour's sport. On my soul, Derrick," he +ended, with a species of quiet vigour that carried considerable weight +behind it, "if you weren't such a skeleton I'd give you a sound +thrashing for your sins. As it is, you will be wise to get off that high +horse of yours and take a back seat. I never have put up with this sort +of thing from you. And I never mean to."</p> + +<p>Derrick had no answer ready. He stood still, considering these things.</p> + +<p>Colonel Carlyon turned his back on him and cut the end of a cigar. "Do +you grasp my meaning?" he enquired at length, as Derrick remained +silent.</p> + +<p>Derrick moved to a chair and sat down. Somehow Carlyon had taken the +backbone out of his indignation. He spoke at last, but without anger. +"Even if it were as you say," he said, "I don't consider you treated me +decently."</p> + +<p>Carlyon suddenly laughed. "Even if by some odd chance I have actually +spoken the truth," he said, "I shall not, and do not, feel called upon +to justify my action for your benefit."</p> + +<p>"I think you owe me that," Derrick said quickly.</p> + +<p>"I disagree with you," Carlyon rejoined. "I owe you nothing whatever +except the aforementioned thrashing which must, unfortunately, under the +circumstances, remain a debt for the present."</p> + +<p>Derrick leant forward suddenly</p> + +<p>"Stop rotting, Carlyon!" he said, with impulsive earnestness. "I can't +help talking seriously. You didn't know, surely, what a tight fix we +were in? You couldn't have intended us to—to—die in the dark like +that?"</p> + +<p>"Intended!" said Carlyon sharply. "I never intended you to occupy that +position at all, remember."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but—since we were in that position, since—if you choose to put +it so—I exceeded all bounds and intentions and took those splendid +little Goorkhas into a death-trap; I may have been a headstrong, idiotic +fool to do it; but, granted all that, you did not deliberately and +knowingly leave us to be massacred? You couldn't have done actually +that."</p> + +<p>Carlyon laid his cigar-case on the table at Derrick's elbow, and lighted +his own cigar with great deliberation.</p> + +<p>"You may remember, Dick," he said quietly, after a pause, "that once +upon a time you wrote—and published—a book. It had its merits and it +had its faults. But a fool of a critic took it into his head to give you +a thorough slating. You were furious, weren't you? I remember giving you +a bit of sound advice over that book. Probably you have forgotten it. +But it chances to be one of the guiding principles of my life. It is +this: Never answer your critics! Go straight ahead!"</p> + +<p>He paused.</p> + +<p>"I remember," said Derrick. "Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Carlyon gravely, "that is what I have done all my life, +what I mean to do now. You are in full possession of the facts of the +case. You have defined my position fairly accurately. I did know you +were in an impossible corner. I did know that you and the men with you +were in all probability doomed. And—I did not think good to send a +rescue. You do not understand the game of war. You merely went in for it +for the sake of sport, I for the sake of the stakes. There is a +difference. More than that I do not mean to say."</p> + +<p>He sat down opposite Derrick as he ended and began to smoke with an air +of indifference. But his eyes were on the boy's face. They had been +close friends for years.</p> + +<p>Derrick still sat forward. He was staring at the ground heavily, +silently Carlyon had given him a shock. Somehow he had not expected from +him this cool acknowledgment of an action from which he himself shrank +with unspeakable abhorrence.</p> + +<p>To leave a friend in the lurch was, in Derrick's eyes, an act so +infamous that he would have cut his own throat sooner than be guilty of +it. It did not occur to him that Carlyon might have urged extenuating +circumstances, but had rather scornfully abstained from doing so.</p> + +<p>He did not even consider the fact that, as commanding-officer, Carlyon's +responsibility for the lives in his charge was a burden not to be +ignored or lightly borne. He did not consider the risk to these same +valuable lives that a rescue in force would have involved.</p> + +<p>He saw only himself fighting for a forlorn hope, his grinning little +Goorkhas gallantly and intrepidly following wherever he would lead, and +he saw the awful darkness down which his feet had stumbled, a terrible +chasm that had yawned to engulf them all.</p> + +<p>He sat up at last and looked straight at Carlyon. He spoke slowly, with +an effort.</p> + +<p>"If it had been only myself," he said, "I—perhaps, I might have found +it easier. But there were the men, my men. You could not alter your +plans by one hair's-breadth to save their gallant lives. I can't get +over that. I never shall. You left us to die like rats in a hole. But +for a total stranger—a spy, a Secret Service man—we should have been +cut to pieces, every one of us. You did not, I suppose, send that man to +help us out?"</p> + +<p>Carlyon blew a cloud of smoke upwards. He frowned a little, but his look +was more one of boredom than annoyance.</p> + +<p>"What exactly are you talking about?" he said. "I don't employ spies. As +to Secret Service agents, I think you have heard my opinion of them +before."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Derrick. He rose with an air of finality. His young face was +very stern. "He was probably attached to General Harford's division. He +found us in a fix, and he helped us out of it. He knew the land. We +didn't. He was the most splendid fighting-man I ever saw. He tried to +stick up for you, too—said you didn't know. That, of course, was a +mistake. You did know, and are not ashamed to own it."</p> + +<p>"Not in the least," said Carlyon.</p> + +<p>"The men couldn't have held out without him," Derrick continued. "After +I was hit, he stood by them. He only took himself off just before +morning came and you ventured to move to our assistance."</p> + +<p>"He had no possible right to do it," observed Carlyon thoughtfully +ignoring the bitter ring of sarcasm in the boy's tone.</p> + +<p>"Oh, none whatever," said Derrick. He spoke hastily, jerkily, as a man +not sure of himself. "No doubt his life was Government property, and he +had no right to risk it. Still he did it, and I am weak-minded enough to +be grateful. My own life may be worthless; at least, it was then. And I +would not have survived my Goorkhas. But he saved them, too. That, odd +as it may seem to you, made all the difference to me."</p> + +<p>"Is your life more valuable now than it was a few months ago?" enquired +Carlyon, in a casual tone.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Derrick shorty.</p> + +<p>"Has Averil accepted you?" Carlyon asked him point-blank.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Derrick again.</p> + +<p>There was a momentary pause. Then: "Permit me to offer my +felicitations!" said Carlyon, through a haze of tobacco-smoke.</p> + +<p>Derrick started as if stung. "I beg you won't do anything of the sort!" +he said with vehemence. "I don't want your good wishes. I would rather +be without them. I may be a hare-brained fool. I won't deny it. But as +for you—you are a blackguard—the worst sort of blackguard! I hope I +shall never speak to you again!"</p> + +<p>Carlyon, lying back in his chair, neither stirred nor spoke. He looked +up at Derrick from beneath steady eyelids. But he offered him nothing in +return for his insulting words.</p> + +<p>Derrick waited for seconds. Then patience and resolution alike failed +him. He swung round abruptly on his heel and walked out of the room.</p> + +<p>As for Colonel Carlyon, he did not rise from his chair till he had +conscientiously finished his cigar. He had stuck to his principles. He +had not answered his critic. Incidentally he had borne more from that +critic than any man had ever before dared to offer him, more than he had +told Derrick himself that he would bear. Yet Derrick had gone away from +the encounter with a whole skin in order that Colonel Carlyon might +stick to his principles. Carlyon's forbearance was a plant of peculiar +growth.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Secret_V'></a><h2>V</h2> + +<h2>A WOMAN'S FORGIVENESS</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Colonel Carlyon," said Averil, turning to face him fully, her eyes very +bright, "will you take the trouble to make me understand about Derrick? +I have been awaiting an opportunity to ask you ever since I heard about +it."</p> + +<p>Carlyon paused. They chanced to be staying simultaneously in the house +of a mutual friend. He had arrived only the previous evening, and till +that moment had scarcely spoken to the girl.</p> + +<p>Carlyon smothered an involuntary sigh. He could have wished that this +girl, with her straight eyes and honest speech, would have spared him +the explanation which she had made such speed to demand of him.</p> + +<p>"Make you understand, Miss Eversley!" he said, halting deliberately +before a bookcase. "What exactly is it that you do not understand?"</p> + +<p>"Everything," Averil said, with a comprehensive gesture. "I have always +believed that you thought more of Derrick than anything else in the +world."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Carlyon quietly. "That is probably the root of the +misunderstanding. Correct that, and the rest will be comparatively +easy."</p> + +<p>He took a book from the shelf before him and ran a quick eye through its +pages. After a brief pause he put the volume back and joined the girl on +the hearthrug.</p> + +<p>"Is my behaviour still an enigma?" he said, with a slight smile.</p> + +<p>She turned to him impulsively. "Of course," she said, colouring vividly, +"I am aware that to a celebrated man like you the opinion of a nobody +like myself cannot matter one straw. But—"</p> + +<p>"Pardon me!" Carlyon gravely. "Even celebrated men are human, you know. +They have their feelings like the rest of mankind. I shall be sorry to +forfeit your good opinion. But I have no means of retaining it. Derrick +cannot see my point of view. You, of course, will share his +difficulties."</p> + +<p>"That does not follow, does it?" said Averil.</p> + +<p>"I should say so," said Carlyon. "You see, Miss Eversley, you have +already told me that you do not understand my action. Non-comprehension +in such a matter is synonymous with disapproval. You are, no doubt, in +full possession of the facts. More than the bare facts I cannot give +you. I will not attempt to justify myself where I admit no guilt."</p> + +<p>"No," Averil said. "Pray don't think I am asking you to do anything of +the sort! Only, Colonel Carlyon," she laid a pleading hand on his arm +and lifted a very anxious face, "you remember we used to be friends, if +you will allow the presumption of such a term. Won't you even try to +show me your point of view in this matter? I think I could understand. I +want to understand."</p> + +<p>Carlyon leant his elbow on the mantelpiece and looked very gravely into +the girl's troubled eyes.</p> + +<p>"You are very generous, Averil," he said.</p> + +<p>"Generous," she echoed, with a touch of impatience. "No; I only want to +be just—for my own sake. I hate to take a narrow, cramped view of +things. I hate that Dick should. A few words from you would set us both +right, and we could all be friends again."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Carlyon. "But suppose—I have nothing to say?"</p> + +<p>"You must have something!" she declared vehemently. "You never do +anything without a reason."</p> + +<p>"Generous again!" said Carlyon.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't laugh at me!" cried Averil, stung by the quiet unconcern of +his words.</p> + +<p>He straightened himself instantly, his face suddenly stern. "At least +you wrong me there!" he said, and before the curt reproof of his tone +she felt humbled and ashamed. "Listen to me a moment! You want my point +of view clearly stated. You shall have it.</p> + +<p>"I am employed by a blundering Government to do a certain task which +bigger men shirk. Carlyon of the Frontier, they say, will stick at no +dirty job. I undertake the task. I lay my plans—subtle plans which you, +with your blind British generosity, would neither understand nor +approve. I proceed to carry them out. I am within sight of the end and +success, when an idiotic fool of a boy, who is not so much as a +combatant himself, blunders into the business and throws the whole +scheme out of gear. He assumes the leadership of a dozen stranded +Goorkhas, and instead of bringing them back he drags them forward into +an impossible position, and then expects a rescue.</p> + +<p>"I meanwhile have my own work to do. I am responsible to the Government +for the lives of my men. I cannot expend them on other than Government +work.</p> + +<p>"On one side of the scale is this same Government and the plans made in +its interest; on the other the life of a boy, strategically speaking, +worth nothing, and the lives of half-a-score of fighting men, already +accounted a loss. It may astonish you to know that the Government turned +the scale. Those who had incurred the penalty of rashness were left to +pay it. That, Miss Eversley, is all I have to say. You will be good +enough to remember that I have said it at your request and not in my own +defence."</p> + +<p>He ceased to speak as abruptly as he had begun. He was standing at his +full height, and, tall though she was, Averil felt unaccountably small +and insignificant before him. Curtly, almost rudely, as he had spoken, +she admired him immensely for the stern code of honour he professed.</p> + +<p>She did not utter a word for several seconds. He had impressed her very +strongly. She stayed to weigh his words in the balance of her own +judgment.</p> + +<p>"It is a man's point of view," she said slowly at last, "not a woman's."</p> + +<p>"Even so," said Carlyon, dropping back suddenly to his former attitude.</p> + +<p>She looked at him very earnestly, her brows drawn together.</p> + +<p>"You have not told me about the Secret Service man," she said at length. +"You sent him, did you not, on the forlorn chance of saving Dick?"</p> + +<p>Carlyon shook his head in a grim disclaimer.</p> + +<p>"Derrick's information was the first I heard of the individual," he +said. "I was unaware of the existence of a Secret Service agent within a +radius of fifty miles. I believe General Harford encourages the breed. I +do the precise opposite. I have no faith in professional spies in that +part of the world. Russian territory is too near, and Russian gold too +tempting."</p> + +<p>Averil's face fell. "Colonel Carlyon," she said, in a very small voice, +"forgive me, but—but—you cannot be so hard as you sound. You are fond +of Dick, surely?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said deliberately. "I am fond of you both, if I may be +permitted to say so."</p> + +<p>Averil coloured a little. "Thank you," she said. "I shall try presently +to make him understand."</p> + +<p>"Understand what?" said Carlyon curiously.</p> + +<p>"Your feeling in the matter."</p> + +<p>"My what?" he said roughly. Then hastily, "I beg your pardon, Miss +Eversley. But are you sure you understand it yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I am doing my best," she said, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"But you are sorely disappointed, nevertheless," he said, in a more +kindly tone. "You expected something different. Well, it can't be +helped. I should leave Dick's convictions alone, if I were you. At least +he has no illusions left with regard to Carlyon of the Frontier."</p> + +<p>There was an involuntary touch of sadness in the man's quiet speech. He +no longer looked at Averil, and his face in repose wore an expression of +unutterable weariness.</p> + +<p>Averil held out her hand with an abrupt, childlike impulse.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Carlyon," she said, speaking very rapidly, "you are right. I +don't understand. I think you hold too stern a view of your +responsibilities. I believe no woman could think otherwise. But at the +same time I do still believe you are a good man. I shall always believe +it."</p> + +<p>Carlyon glanced at her quickly. Her face was flushed, her eyes very +eager. He looked away again almost instantly, but he took her +outstretched hand.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Averil," he said gravely. "I believe under the circumstances +few women would have said the same. Tell me! Did I hear a rumour that +you are going out to India yourself very shortly?"</p> + +<p>She nodded. "I have almost promised to go," she said. "I have a married +sister at Sharapura. I wrote to her of my engagement, and she wrote +back, begging me to go to her if I could. She and her husband have been +disappointed several times about coming home, and it is still uncertain +when they will manage it. She wants to see me before I marry and settle +down, she says."</p> + +<p>"And you want to go?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do," said Averil, with enthusiasm. "It has always been a +standing promise that I should go some day."</p> + +<p>"And what does Derrick say to it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dick! He was very cross at first. But I have propitiated him by +promising to marry him as soon as I get back, which will be probably +this time next year."</p> + +<p>Averil's face grew suddenly grave.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will both be very happy," said Carlyon, rather formally.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Averil, looking up at him. "It would make me much +happier if—you and Dick could be friends before then."</p> + +<p>"Would it?" said Carlyon thoughtfully. "I wonder why."</p> + +<p>"I should like my friends to be Dick's friends," she said, with slight +hesitation.</p> + +<p>Carlyon smiled a little. "Forgive me, Miss Eversley, for being +monotonous!" he said.... "But, once more—how generous!"</p> + +<p>Averil turned sharply away, inexplicably hurt by what she considered the +note of mockery in his voice, and went out, leaving him alone before the +fire. Emphatically this man was entirely beyond her understanding.</p> + +<p>But, nevertheless, when they met again, she had forgiven him.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Secret_VI'></a><h2>VI</h2> + +<h2>FIEND OR KING?</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Hullo, doctor! What news?" sang out a curly-haired subaltern on the +steps of the club, a newly-erected, wooden bungalow of which the little +Frontier station was immensely proud. "You're looking infernally +serious. What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>Dr. Seddon rolled stoutly off his steaming pony and went to join his +questioner.</p> + +<p>"What do you think you're doing, Toby?" he said, with a glance at an +enormous pair of scissors in the boy's hand.</p> + +<p>"I'm making lamp-shades," Toby responded, leading the way within. +"What's your drink? Nothing? What a horribly dry beast you are! Yes, +lamp-shades—for the ball, you know. Got to be ready by to-morrow night. +We're doing them with crinkly paper. Miss Eversley promised to come and +help me. But she hasn't turned up."</p> + +<p>"What?" exclaimed Seddon. "Not come back yet?"</p> + +<p>Toby dropped his scissors with a clatter, and dived for them under the +reading-room table.</p> + +<p>"Don't make me jump, I say, doctor!" he said pathetically. "I'm quite +upset enough as it is. That lazy lout, Soames, won't stir a finger. The +other chaps are on duty. And Miss Eversley has proved faithless. Why +can't you turn to and help?"</p> + +<p>But Seddon was already striding to the door again in hot haste.</p> + +<p>"That idiot of a girl must have crossed the Frontier!" he said, as he +went. "There was a fellow shot on sentry-go last night. It's infernally +dangerous, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>Toby raced after him swearing inarticulately. A couple of subalterns +just entering were nearly overwhelmed by their vigorous exit. They +recovered themselves and followed to the tune of Toby's excited +questioning. But none of the party got beyond the veranda steps, for +there the sound of clattering hoofs arrested them, and a jaded horse +bearing a dishevelled rider was pulled up short in front of the club.</p> + +<p>"Miss Eversley herself!" cried Toby, making a dash forward.</p> + +<p>A native servant slipped unobtrusively to the sweating horse's bridle. +Averil was on the ground in a moment and turned to ascend the steps of +the club-house.</p> + +<p>"Is my brother-in-law here?" she said to Toby, accepting the hand he +offered.</p> + +<p>"Who? Raymond? No; he's in the North Camp somewhere. Do you want him? +Anything wrong? By Jove, Miss Eversley, you've given us an awful +fright!"</p> + +<p>Averil went up the steps with so palpable an effort that Seddon hastily +dragged forward a chair. Her lips, as she answered Toby, were quite +colourless.</p> + +<p>"I have had a fright myself," she said. Then she looked round at the +other men with a shaky laugh. "I have been riding for my life," she said +a little breathlessly. "I have never done that before. It—it's very +exciting—almost more so than riding to hounds. I have often wondered +how the fox felt. Now I know."</p> + +<p>She ignored the chair Seddon placed for her, turning to the boy called +Toby with great resolution.</p> + +<p>"Those lamp-shades, Mr. Carey," she said. "I'm sorry I'm so late. You +must have thought I was never coming. In fact"—the colour was returning +to her face, and her smile became more natural—"I thought so myself a +few minutes ago. Let us set to work at once!"</p> + +<p>Toby burst into a rude whoop of admiration and flung a ball of string +into the air.</p> + +<p>"Miss Eversley, well done! Well done!" he gasped. "You—you deserve a +V.C.!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I don't," she returned. "I have been running away hard."</p> + +<p>"Tell us all about it, Miss Eversley!" urged one of her listeners. "You +have been across the Frontier, now, haven't you? What happened? Someone +tried to snipe you from afar?"</p> + +<p>But Miss Eversley refused to be communicative. "I am much too busy," she +said, "to discuss anything so unimportant. Come, Mr. Carey, the +lamp-shades!"</p> + +<p>Toby bore her off in triumph to inspect his works of art. There was a +good deal of understanding in Toby's head despite its curls which he +kept so resolutely cropped. He attended to business without a hint of +surprise or inattention. And he was presently rewarded for his good +behaviour.</p> + +<p>Averil, raising her eyes for a moment from one of the shades which she +was tacking together while he held it in shape, said presently:</p> + +<p>"A very peculiar thing happened to me this morning, Mr. Carey."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" he replied, trying to keep the note of expectancy out of his +voice.</p> + +<p>Averil nodded gravely. "I crossed the Frontier," she said, "and rode +into the mountains. I thought I heard a child crying. I lost my way and +fell among thieves."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said Toby again. He looked up, frankly interested this time.</p> + +<p>"I was shot at," she resumed. "It was my own fault, of course. I +shouldn't have gone. My brother-in-law warned me very seriously against +going an inch beyond the Frontier only last night. Well, one buys one's +experience. I certainly shall never go again, not for a hundred wailing +babies."</p> + +<p>"Probably a bird," remarked Toby practically.</p> + +<p>"Probably," assented Averil, equally practical. "To continue: I didn't +know what to do. I was horribly frightened. I had lost my bearings. And +then out of the very midst of my enemies there came a friend."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Toby quickly. "The right sort?"</p> + +<p>"There is only one sort," she said, with a touch of dignity.</p> + +<p>"And what did he do?" said Toby, with eager interest.</p> + +<p>"He simply took my bridle and ran by my side till we were out of +danger," Averil said, a sudden soft glow creeping up over her face.</p> + +<p>Toby looked at her very seriously. "In native rig, I suppose?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Averil.</p> + +<p>"Carlyon of the Frontier," said Toby, with abrupt decision.</p> + +<p>She nodded. "I did not know he had left England," she said.</p> + +<p>"He hasn't—officially speaking," said Toby. He was watching her +steadily. "Do you know, Miss Eversley," he said, "I think I wouldn't +mention your discovery to any one else?"</p> + +<p>"I am not going to," she said.</p> + +<p>"No? Then why did you tell me?" he asked, with a tinge of rude suspicion +in his voice.</p> + +<p>Averil looked him suddenly and steadily in the face. It was a very +innocent face that Toby Carey presented to a serenely credulous world.</p> + +<p>"Because," said Averil slowly, "he told me to tell you alone. 'Tell Toby +Carey only,' he said, 'to watch when the beasts go down to drink.' They +were his last words."</p> + +<p>"Good!" said Toby unconcernedly. "Then he knew you recognized him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Averil said; "he knew." She smiled faintly as she said it. "He +told me he was in no danger," she added.</p> + +<p>"Is he a friend of yours?" asked Toby sharply.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Averil, with pride.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry to hear it," said Toby bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Why?" she asked, with a swift flash of anger.</p> + +<p>"Why?" he echoed vehemently. "Ask your brother-in-law, ask Seddon, ask +any one! The man is a fiend!"</p> + +<p>Averil sprang to her feet in sudden fury.</p> + +<p>"How dare you!" she cried passionately. "He is a king!"</p> + +<p>Toby stared for a moment, then grew calm. "We are not talking about the +same man, Miss Eversley," he said shortly. "The man I know is a fiend +among fiends. The man you know is, no doubt—different."</p> + +<p>But Averil swept from the club-room without a word. She was very angry +with Toby Carey.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Secret_VII'></a><h2>VII</h2> + +<h2>THE REAL COLONEL CARLYON</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Averil rode back to her brother-in-law's bungalow, vexed with herself, +weary at heart, troubled. She had arrived at the station among the +mountains on the Frontier two months before, and had spent a very happy +time there with the sister whom she had not seen for years. The ladies +of the station numbered a very scanty minority, but there was no lack of +gaiety and merriment on that account.</p> + +<p>That the hills beyond the Great Frontier were peopled by tribes in a +seething state of discontent was a matter known, but little recked of, +by the majority of the community. Officers went their several ways, +fully awake to threatening rumours, but counting them of small +importance. They went to their sport; to their polo, their racing, +their gymkhanas, with light hearts and in perfect security. They lay +down in the dread shadow of a mighty Empire and slept secure in the very +jaws of danger.</p> + +<p>The fierce and fanatical hatred that raged over the Frontier was less +than nothing to most of them. The power that sheltered them was wholly +sufficient for their confidence.</p> + +<p>The toughness of the good northern breed is of a quality untearable, +made to endure in all climates, under all conditions. Ordered to carry +revolvers, they stuffed them unloaded into side-pockets, or left them in +the hands of <i>syces</i> to bear behind them.</p> + +<p>Proof positive of their total failure to realize the danger that +threatened from amidst the frowning, grey-cragged mountains was the fact +that their womenkind were allowed to remain at the station, and even +rode and drove forth unattended on the rocky, mountain roads.</p> + +<p>True, they were warned against crossing the Frontier. A few officers, of +whom Captain Raymond, who was Averil's brother-in-law, and Toby Carey, +the innocent-faced subaltern, were two, saw the rising wave from afar; +but they saw it vaguely as inevitable but not imminent. Captain Raymond +planned to himself to send his wife and her sister to Simla before the +monsoon broke up the fine weather.</p> + +<p>And this was all he accomplished beyond administering a severe reprimand +to his young sister-in-law for running into danger among the hills.</p> + +<p>"There are always thieves waiting to bag anyone foolish enough to show +his nose over the border," he said. "Isn't the Indian Empire large +enough for you that you must needs go trespassing among savages?"</p> + +<p>Averil heard him out with the patience of a slightly wandering +attention. She had not recounted the whole of her experience for his +benefit, nor did she intend to do so. She was still wondering what the +mysterious message she had delivered to Toby Carey might be held to +mean.</p> + +<p>When Captain Raymond had exhausted himself she went away to her own room +and sat for a long while gazing towards the great mountains, thinking, +thinking.</p> + +<p>Her sister presently joined her. Mrs. Raymond was a dark-eyed, +merry-hearted little woman, the gay originator of many a frolic, and an +immense favourite with men and women alike.</p> + +<p>"Poor darling! I declare Harry has made you look quite miserable!" was +her exclamation, as she ran lightly in and seated herself on the arm of +Averil's chair.</p> + +<p>"Harry!" echoed Averil, in a tone of such genuine scorn that Mrs. +Raymond laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>"You're very rude," she said. "Still, I'm glad Harry isn't the offender. +Who is it, I wonder? But, never mind! I have a splendid piece of news +for you, dear. Shut your eyes and guess!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't indeed!" protested Averil. "I am much too tired."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raymond looked at her with laughing eyes.</p> + +<p>"There! She shan't be teased!" she cried gaily. "It's the loveliest +surprise you ever had, darling; but I can't keep it a secret any longer. +I wanted to see him now that he is grown up, and quite satisfy myself +that he is really good enough for you. So, dear, I wrote to him and +begged him to join us here. And the result is—now guess!"</p> + +<p>Averil had turned sharply to look at her.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean you have asked Dick to come here?" she said, in a quick, +startled way.</p> + +<p>"Exactly, dear; I actually have," said Mrs. Raymond. "More—we had a +wire this morning. He will be here to dinner."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Averil. She rose hastily, so hastily that her sister was left +sitting on the arm of the bamboo chair, which instantly overturned on +the top of her.</p> + +<p>Averil extricated her with many laughing apologies, and, by the time +Mrs. Raymond had recovered her equilibrium, the younger girl had lost +her expression of astonishment and was looking as bright and eager as +her sister could desire.</p> + +<p>"Only Dick is such a madcap," she said. "How shall we keep him from +getting up to mischief in No Man's Land precisely as I have done?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Raymond opined that Averil ought by then to have discovered the +secret of managing the young man, and they went to <i>tiffin</i> on the +veranda in excellent spirits.</p> + +<p>Dr. Seddon was there and young Steele, one of Raymond's subalterns. +Averil found herself next to the doctor, who, rather to her surprise, +forebore to twit her with her early morning adventure. He was, in fact, +very grave, and she wondered why.</p> + +<p>Steele, strolling by her side in the shady compound, by and bye +volunteered information.</p> + +<p>"Poor old Seddon is in a mortal funk," he said, "which accounts for his +wretched appetite. He has been wasting steadily ever since Carlyon went +away. He thinks Carlyon is the only fellow capable of taking care of +him. No one else is monster enough."</p> + +<p>"Is Colonel Carlyon expected out here?" Averil asked, in a casual tone.</p> + +<p>One of Steele's eyelids contracted a little as if it wanted to wink. He +answered her in a low voice: "Carlyon is never expected before his +arrival, Miss Eversley."</p> + +<p>"No?" said Averil indifferently. "And, why, please do you call him a +monster?"</p> + +<p>Steele laughed a little. "Didn't you know?" he said. "Why, he is the +King of Evil in these parts!"</p> + +<p>Averil felt her face slowly flushing. "I don't understand," she said.</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" said Steele. "Honestly now?"</p> + +<p>The flush heightened. "Of course I don't," she said. "Otherwise why +should I tell you so?"</p> + +<p>"Pardon!" said Steele, unabashed. "Well, then, you must know that we are +all frightened of Carlyon of the Frontier. We hate him badly, but he has +the whip-hand of us, and so we have to do the tame trot for him. Over +there"—he jerked his head towards the mountains—"they would lie down +in a row miles long and let him walk over their necks. And not a single +blackguard among them would dare to stab upwards, because Carlyon is +immortal, as everyone knows, and it wouldn't be worth the blackguard's +while to survive the deed.</p> + +<p>"They don't call him Carlyon in the mountains, but it's the same man, +for all that. He is a prophet, a deity, among them. They believe in him +blindly as a special messenger from Heaven. And he plays with them, +barters them, betrays them, every single day he spends among them. He is +strong, he is unscrupulous, he is merciless. He respects no friendship. +He keeps no oath. He betrays, he tortures, he slays. Even we, the +enlightened race, shrink from him as if he were the very fiend +incarnate.</p> + +<p>"But he is a valuable man. The information he obtains is priceless. But +he trades with blood. He lives on treachery. He is more subtle than the +subtlest Pathan. He would betray any one or all of us to death if it +were to the interest of the Empire that we should be sacrified. That, +you know, in reason, is all very well. But, personally, I would sooner +tread barefoot on a scorpion than get entangled in Carlyon's web. He is +more false and more cruel than a serpent. At least, that is his +reputation among us. And those heathen beggars trust him so utterly."</p> + +<p>Steele stopped abruptly. He had spoken with strong passion. His honest +face was glowing with indignation. He was British to the backbone, and +he loathed all treachery instinctively.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he saw that the girl beside him had turned very white. He +paused in his walk with an awkward sense of having spoken unadvisedly.</p> + +<p>"Of course," he said, with a boyish effort to recover his ground, "it +has to be done. Someone must do the dirty work. But that doesn't make +you like the man who does it a bit the better. One wouldn't brush +shoulders with the hangman if one knew it."</p> + +<p>Averil was standing still. Her hands were clenched.</p> + +<p>"Are you talking of Colonel Carlyon—my friend?" she said slowly.</p> + +<p>Steele turned sharply away from the wide gaze of her grey eyes.</p> + +<p>"I hope not, Miss Eversley," he said. "The man I mean is not fit to be +the friend of any woman."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Secret_VIII'></a><h2>VIII</h2> + +<h2>THE STRANGER ON THE VERANDA</h2> +<br /> + +<p>It was to all outward seeming a very gay crowd that assembled at the +club-house on the following night for the first dance of the season. +For some unexplained reason sentries had been doubled on all sides of +the Camp, but no one seemed to have any anxiety on that account.</p> + +<p>"We ought to feel all the safer," laughed Mrs. Raymond when she heard. +"No one ever took such care of us before."</p> + +<p>"It must be all rot," said Derrick who had arrived the previous evening +in excellent spirits. "If there were the smallest danger of a rising you +wouldn't be here."</p> + +<p>"Quite true," laughed Mrs. Raymond, "unless the road to Fort Akbar is +considered unsafe."</p> + +<p>"I never saw a single border thief all the way here!" declared Derrick, +departing to look for Averil.</p> + +<p>He claimed the first waltz imperiously, and she gave it to him. She was +the prettiest girl in the room, and she danced with a queenly grace of +movement. Derrick was delighted. He did not like giving her up, but +Steele was insistent on this point. He had made Derrick's acquaintance +in the Frontier campaign of a year before, and he parted the two without +scruple, declaring he would not stand by and see a good chap like +Derrick make a selfish beast of himself on such an occasion.</p> + +<p>Derrick gave place with a laugh and sought other partners. In the middle +of the evening Toby Carey strolled up to Averil and bent down in a +conversational attitude. He was not dancing himself. She gave him a +somewhat cold welcome.</p> + +<p>After a few commonplace words he took her fan from her hand and +whispered to her behind it:</p> + +<p>"There's a fellow on the veranda waiting to speak to you," he said. +"Calls himself a friend."</p> + +<p>Her heart leapt at the murmured words. She glanced hurriedly round. +Everyone in the room was dancing. She had pleaded fatigue. She rose +quietly and stepped to the window, Toby following.</p> + +<p>She stood a moment on the threshold of the night and then passed slowly +out. All about her was dark.</p> + +<p>"Go on to the steps!" murmured Toby behind her. "I shall keep watch."</p> + +<p>She went on with gathering speed. At the head of the veranda-steps she +dimly discerned a figure waiting for her, a figure clothed in some +white, muffling garment that seemed to cover the face. And yet she knew +by all her bounding pulses whom she had found.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Carlyon!" she said, and on the impulse of the moment she gave +him both her hands.</p> + +<p>His quiet voice answered her out of the strange folds. "Come into the +garden a moment!" he said.</p> + +<p>She went with him unquestioning, with the confidence of a child. He led +her with silent, stealthy tread into the deepest gloom the compound +afforded. Then he stopped and faced her with a question that sent a +sudden tumult of doubt racing through her brain.</p> + +<p>"Will you take a message to Fort Akbar for me, Averil?" he said. "A +matter of life and death."</p> + +<p>A message! Averil's heart stood suddenly-still. All the evil report that +she had heard of this man raised its head like a serpent roused from +slumber, a serpent that had hidden in her breast, and a terrible agony +of fear took the place of her confidence.</p> + +<p>Carlyon waited for her answer without a sign of impatience. Through her +mind, as it were on wheels of fire, Steele's passionate words were +running: "He lives on treachery. He would betray any one or all of us to +death if it were to the interest of the Empire that we should be +sacrificed." And again: "I would sooner tread barefoot on a scorpion +than get entangled in Carlyon's web."</p> + +<p>All this she would once have dismissed as vilest calumny. But Carlyon's +abandonment of Derrick, and his subsequent explanation thereof, were +terribly overwhelming evidence against him. And now this man, this spy, +wanted to use her as an instrument to accomplish some secret end of his.</p> + +<p>A matter of life or death, he said. And for which of these did he +purpose to use her efforts? Averil sickened at the possibilities the +question raised in her mind. And still Carlyon waited for her answer.</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask me?" she said at last, in a quivering whisper. "What is +the message you want to send?"</p> + +<p>"You delivered a message for me only yesterday without a single +question," he said.</p> + +<p>She wrung her hands together in the darkness. "I know. I know," she +said; "but then I did not realize."</p> + +<p>"You saved the camp from destruction," he went on. "Will you not do the +same to-night?"</p> + +<p>"How shall I know?" she sobbed in anguish.</p> + +<p>"What have they been telling you?"</p> + +<p>The quiet voice came in strange contrast to the agitated uncertainty of +her tones. Carlyon laid steady hands on her shoulders. In the dim light +his eyes had leapt to blue flame, sudden, intense. She hid her face from +their searching; ashamed, horrified at her own doubts—yet still +doubting.</p> + +<p>"Your friendship has stood a heavier strain than this," Carlyon said, +with grave reproach.</p> + +<p>But she could not answer him. She dared scarcely face her own thoughts +privately, much less utter them to him.</p> + +<p>What if he were urging the tribes to rise to give the Government a +pretext for war? She had heard him say that peace had come too soon, +that war alone could remedy the evil of constantly recurring outrages +along that troublous Frontier.</p> + +<p>What if he counted the lives of a few women and their gallant protectors +as but a little price to pay for the accomplishment of this end?</p> + +<p>What if he purposed to make this awful sacrifice in the interests of the +Empire, and only asked this thing of her because no other would +undertake it?</p> + +<p>She lifted her face. He was still looking at her with those strange, +burning eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul.</p> + +<p>"Averil," he said, "you may do a great thing for the Empire to-night—if +you will."</p> + +<p>The Empire! Ah, what fearful things would he not do behind that mask! +Yet she stood silent, bound by the spell of his presence.</p> + +<p>Carlyon went on. "There is going to be a rising, but we shall hold our +own, I hope without loss. You can ride a horse, and I can trust you. +This message must be delivered to-night. There is not an officer at +liberty. I would not send one if there were. Every man will be wanted. +Averil, will you go for me?"</p> + +<p>He was holding her very gently between his hands. He seemed to be +pleading with her. Her resolution began to waver. They had shattered her +idol, yet she clung fast to the crumbling shrine.</p> + +<p>"You will not let them be killed?" she whispered piteously. "Oh, promise +me!"</p> + +<p>"No one belonging to this camp will be killed if I can help it," he +said. "You will tell them at Fort Akbar that we are prepared here. +General Harford is marching to join them from Fort Wara. Whatever they +may hear they must not dream of moving to join us till he reaches them. +They are not strong enough. They would be cut to pieces. That is the +message you are going to take for me. Their garrison is too small to be +split up, and Fort Akbar must be protected at all costs. It is a more +important post than this even."</p> + +<p>"But there are women here," Averil whispered.</p> + +<p>"They are under my protection," said Carlyon quietly. "I want you to +start at once—before we shut the gates."</p> + +<p>"Have they taken you by surprise, then?" she asked, with a sharp, +involuntary shiver.</p> + +<p>"No," Carlyon said. "They have taken the Government by surprise. That's +all." He spoke with strong bitterness. For he was the watchman who had +awaked in vain.</p> + +<p>A moment later he was drawing her with him along the shadowy path.</p> + +<p>"You need have no fear," he whispered to her. "The road is open all the +way. I have a horse waiting that will carry you safely. It is barely ten +miles. You have done it before."</p> + +<p>"Am I to go just as I am?" she asked him, carried away by his +unfaltering resolution.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Carlyon, "except for this." He loosened the <i>chuddah</i> from +his own head and stooped to muffle it about hers. "I have provided for +your going," he said. "You will see no one. You know the way. Go hard!"</p> + +<p>He moved on again. His arm was round her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"And you?" she said, with sudden misgiving.</p> + +<p>"I shall go back to the camp," he said, "when I have seen you go."</p> + +<p>They went a little farther, ghostly, white figures gliding side by +side. Wildly as her heart was beating, Averil felt that it was all +strangely unreal, felt that the man beside her was a being unknown and +mysterious, almost supernatural. And yet, strangely, she did not fear +him. As she had once said to him, she believed he was a good man. She +would always believe it. And yet was that awful doubt hammering through +her brain.</p> + +<p>They reached the bounds of the club compound and Carlyon stopped again. +From the building behind them there floated the notes of a waltz, weird, +dream-like, sweet as the earth after rain in summer.</p> + +<p>"I want to know," Carlyon said steadily, "if you trust me."</p> + +<p>She stretched up her hands like a child and laid them against his +breast. She answered him with piteous entreaty in which passion +strangely mingled.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Carlyon," she whispered brokenly, "promise me that when this is +over you will give it up! You were not made to spy and betray! You were +made an honourable, true-hearted man—God's greatest and best creation. +You were never meant to be twisted and warped to an evil use. Ah, tell +me you will give it up! How can I go away and leave you toiling in the +dungeons?"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Carlyon. "You do not understand."</p> + +<p>Later, she remembered with what tenderness he gathered her hands again +into his own, holding them reverently. At the time she realized nothing +but the monstrous pity of his wasted life.</p> + +<p>"It isn't true!" she sobbed. "You would not sacrifice your friends?"</p> + +<p>"Never!" said Carlyon sharply.</p> + +<p>He paused. Then—"You must go, Averil," he said. "There are two sentries +on the Buddhist road, and the password is 'Empire.' After that-straight +to Akbar. The moon is rising, and no one will speak to you or attempt to +stop you. You will not be afraid?"</p> + +<p>"I trust you," she said very earnestly.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later, as the moon shot the first silver streak above the +frowning mountains, a white horse flashed out on the road beyond the +camp—a white horse bearing a white-robed rider.</p> + +<p>On the edge of the camp one sentry turned to another with wonder on his +face.</p> + +<p>"That messenger's journey will be soon over," he remarked. "An easy +target for the black fiends!"</p> + +<p>In the mountains a dusky-faced hillman turned glittering, awe-struck +eyes upon the flying white figure.</p> + +<p>"Behold!" he said. "The Heaven-sent rides to the moonrise even as he +foretold. The time draws near."</p> + +<p>And Carlyon, walking back in strange garb to join his own people, +muttered to himself as he went: "One woman, at least, is safe!"</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Secret_IX'></a><h2>IX</h2> + +<h2>A FIGHT IN THE NIGHT</h2> +<br /> + +<p>An hour before daybreak the gathering wave broke upon the camp. It was +Toby Carey who ran hurriedly in upon the dancers in the club-room when +they were about to disperse and briefly announced that there was going +to be a fight. He added that Carlyon was at the mess-house, and desired +all the men to join him there. The women were to remain at the club, +which was already surrounded by a party of Sikhs and Goorkhas. Toby +begged them to believe they were in no danger.</p> + +<p>"Where is Averil?" cried Mrs. Raymond distractedly.</p> + +<p>"Carlyon has already provided for her safety," Toby assured her, as he +raced off again.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later Carlyon, issuing rapid orders in the veranda of the +mess-house, turned at the grip of a hand on his shoulder, and saw +Derrick, behind him, wild-eyed and desperate.</p> + +<p>"What have you done with Averil?" the boy said through white lips.</p> + +<p>"She is safe at Akbar," Carlyon briefly replied. Then, as Derrick +instantly wheeled, he caught him swiftly by the arm.</p> + +<p>"You wait, Dick!" he said. "I have work for you."</p> + +<p>"Let me go!" flashed Derrick fiercely.</p> + +<p>But Carlyon maintained his hold. He knew what was in the lad's mind.</p> + +<p>"It can't be done," he said. "It would be certain death if you attempted +it. We are cut off for the present."</p> + +<p>He interrupted himself to speak to an officer who was awaiting an order +then turned again to Derrick.</p> + +<p>"I tell you the truth, Dick," he said, a sudden note of kindliness in +his voice. "She is safe. I had the opportunity—for one only. I took +it—for her. You can't follow her. You have forfeited your right to +throw away your life. Don't forget it, boy, ever! You have got to live +for her and let the blackguards take the risks."</p> + +<p>He ended with a faint smile, and Derrick fell back abashed, an unwilling +admiration struggling with the sullenness of his submission.</p> + +<p>Later, at Carlyon's order, he joined the party that had been detailed to +watch over the club-house, the most precious and the safest position in +the whole station. He chafed sorely at the inaction, but he repressed +his feelings.</p> + +<p>Carlyon's words had touched him in the right place. Though fiercely +restless still, his manhood had been stirred, and gradually the +strength, the unflinching resolution that had dominated Averil, took the +place of his feverish excitement. Derrick, the impulsive and headstrong, +became the mainstay as well as the undismayed protector of the women +during that night scare of the Frontier.</p> + +<p>There was sharp fighting down in the camp. They heard the firing and the +shouts; but with the sunrise there came a lull. The women turned white +faces to one another and wondered if it could be over.</p> + +<p>Presently Derrick entered with the latest news. The tribesmen had been +temporarily beaten off, he said, but the hills were full of them. Their +own losses during the night amounted to two wounded sepoys. Fighting +during the day was not anticipated.</p> + +<p>Carlyon, snatching hasty refreshment in a hut near the scene of the +hottest fighting, turned grimly to Raymond, his second in command, as +gradual quiet descended upon the camp.</p> + +<p>"You will see strange things to-night," he said.</p> + +<p>Raymond, whose right wrist had been grazed by a bullet, was trying +clumsily to bandage it with his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"How long is it going to last?" he said.</p> + +<p>"To-night will see the end of it," said Carlyon, quietly going to his +assistance. "The rising has been brewing for some time. The tribesmen +need a lesson, so does the Government. It is just a bubble—this. It +will explode to-night. To be honest for once"—Carlyon smiled a little +over his bandaging—"I did not expect this attack so soon. A Heaven-sent +messenger has been among the tribesmen. They revere him almost as much +as the great prophet himself. He has been listening to their +murmurings."</p> + +<p>Carlyon paused. Raymond was watching him intently, but the quiet face +bent over his wound told him nothing.</p> + +<p>"Had I known what was coming," Carlyon said, "so much as three days ago, +the women would not now be in the station. As things are, it would have +been impossible to weaken the garrison to supply them with an escort to +Akbar."</p> + +<p>Raymond stifled a deep curse in his throat. Had they but known indeed!</p> + +<p>Carlyon went on in his deliberate way: "I shall leave you in command +here to-night. I have other work to do. General Harford will be here at +dawn. The attacking force will be on the east of the camp. You will +crush them between you! You will stamp them down without mercy. Let them +see the Empire is ready for them! They will not trouble us again for +perhaps a few years."</p> + +<p>Again he paused. Raymond asked no question. Better than most he knew +Carlyon of the Frontier.</p> + +<p>"It will be a hard blow," Carlyon said. "The tribesmen are very +confident. Last night they watched a messenger ride eastwards on a white +horse. It was an omen foretold by the Heaven-sent when he left them to +carry the message through the hills to other tribes."</p> + +<p>Raymond gave a great start. "The girl!" he said.</p> + +<p>For a second Carlyon's eyes met his look. They were intensely blue, with +the blueness of a flame.</p> + +<p>"She is safe at Akbar," he said, returning without emotion to the +knotting of the bandage. "The road was open for the messenger. The horse +was swift. There is one woman less to take the risk."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Raymond quietly. He was frowning a little, but not at +Carlyon's strategy.</p> + +<p>"The rest," Carlyon continued, "must be fought for. The moon is full +to-night. The Great Fakir will come out of the hills in his zeal and +lead the tribes himself. Guard the east!"</p> + +<p>Raymond drew a sharp breath. But Carlyon's hand on his shoulder silenced +the astounded question on his lips.</p> + +<p>"We have got to protect the women," Carlyon said. "Relief will come at +dawn."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Secret_X'></a><h2>X</h2> + +<h2>SAVED A SECOND TIME</h2> +<br /> + +<p>All through the day quiet reigned. An occasional sword-glint in the +mountains, an occasional gleam of white against the brown hillside; +these were the only evidences of an active enemy.</p> + +<p>The women were released from durance in the club-house, with strict +orders to return in the early evening.</p> + +<p>Derrick went restlessly through the camp, seeking Carlyon. He found him +superintending the throwing-up of earthworks. The most exposed part of +the camp was to be abandoned. Derrick joined him in silence. Somehow +this man's personality attracted him strongly. Though he had defied him, +quarrelled with him, insulted him, the spell of his presence was +irresistible.</p> + +<p>Carlyon paid small attention to him till he turned to leave that part of +the camp's defences. Then, with a careless hand through Derrick's arm, +he said:</p> + +<p>"You will have your fill of stiff fighting to-night, boy. But, remember, +you are not to throw yourself away."</p> + +<p>As evening fell, the attack was resumed, and it continued throughout the +night. Tribesmen charged up to the very breastworks themselves and fell +before the awful fire of the defenders' rifles. Death had no terrors for +them. They strove for the mastery with fanatical zeal. But they strove +in vain. A greater force than they possessed, the force of discipline +and organized resistance—kept them at bay. Behind the splendid courage +of the Indian soldiers were the resource and the resolution of a handful +of Englishmen. The spirit of the conquering race, unquenchable, +irresistible, weighed down the balance.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the night Captain Raymond was hit in the shoulder and +carried, fainting, to the closely guarded club-house, where his wife was +waiting.</p> + +<p>The command devolved upon Lieutenant Steele, who took up the task +undismayed. Down in the hastily dug trenches Toby Carey was fiercely +holding his men to their work.</p> + +<p>And Derrick Rose was with him, unrestrained for that night at least.</p> + +<p>"Relief at dawn!" Toby said to him once.</p> + +<p>And Derrick responded with a wild laugh.</p> + +<p>"Relief be damned! We can hold our own without it."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Relief came with the dawn, at a moment when the tribesmen were spurring +themselves to the greatest effort of all, sustained by the knowledge +that their Great Fakir was among them.</p> + +<p>General Harford, with guides, Sikhs, Goorkhas, came down like a +hurricane from the south-east, cut off a great body of tribesmen from +their fellows, and drove them headlong, with deadly force, upon the +defences they had striven so furiously to take.</p> + +<p>The defenders sallied out to meet them with fixed bayonets. The brief +siege, if siege it could be called, was over.</p> + +<p>In the early light Derrick found himself fighting, fighting furiously, +sword to sword. And the terrible joy of the conflict ran in his blood +like fire.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he gasped. "It's good! It's good!"</p> + +<p>And then he found another fighting beside him—a mighty fighting man, +grim, terrible, silent. They thrust together; they withdrew together; +they charged together.</p> + +<p>Once an enemy seized Derrick's sword and he found himself vainly +struggling against the awful, wild-faced fanatic's sinewy grasp. He saw +the man's upraised arm, and knew with horrible certainty that he was +helpless, helpless.</p> + +<p>Then there shot out a swift, rescuing hand. A straight and deadly blow +was struck. And Derrick, flinging a laugh over his shoulder, beheld a +man dressed as a tribesman fall headlong over his enemy's body, struck +to the earth by another swordsman.</p> + +<p>Like lightning there flashed through his brain the memory of a man who +had saved his life more than a year before on this same tumultuous +Frontier—a man in tribesman's dress, with blue eyes of a strange, keen +friendliness. He had it now. This was the Secret Service man. Derrick +planted himself squarely over the prostrate body, and there stood while +the fight surged on about him to the deadly and inevitable end.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Secret_XI'></a><h2>XI</h2> + +<h2>THE SECRET OUT</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"All Carlyon's doing!" General Harford said a little later. "He has +pulled the strings throughout, from their very midst. Carlyon the +ubiquitous, Carlyon the silent, Carlyon the watchful! He has averted a +horrible catastrophe. The Indian Government must be made to understand +that he is a servant worth having. They say he personally led the +tribesmen to their death. They certainly walked very willingly into the +trap arranged for them. Now, where is Carlyon?"</p> + +<p>No one knew. In the plain outside the camp wounded men were being +collected. The General was relieved to hear that Carlyon was not among +them. He sat down to make his report, a highly eulogistic report, of +this man's splendid services. And then he went to late breakfast at the +club-house.</p> + +<p>In the evening Averil rode back to the station with an escort. The +terrible traces of the struggle were not wholly removed. They rode round +by a longer route to avoid the sight.</p> + +<p>Seddon was the first of her friends who saw her. He was standing inside +the mess-house. He went hurriedly forward and gave her brief details of +the fight. Then, while they were talking, Derrick himself came running +up. He greeted her with less of his boyish effusion than was customary.</p> + +<p>"How is the Secret Service man?" he asked abruptly of Seddon. "Is he +badly damaged?"</p> + +<p>The latter looked at him hard for a second.</p> + +<p>"You can come in and see him," he said, and led the way into the mess.</p> + +<p>Averil and Derrick followed him hand in hand. In a few low words the boy +told her of his old friend's reappearance.</p> + +<p>"He has saved my life twice over," he said.</p> + +<p>"He has saved more lives than yours," Seddon remarked abruptly, over his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>He led the way "to the little ante-room where, stretched on a sofa, lay +Derrick's Secret Service man. He was dressed in white, his face half +covered with a fold of his head-dress. But the eyes were open—blue, +alert, beneath drooping lids. He was speaking, softly, quickly, as a man +asleep.</p> + +<p>"The women must be protected," he said. "Let the blackguards take the +risks!"</p> + +<p>Averil started forward with a cry, and in a moment was kneeling by his +side. The strange eyes were turned upon her instantly. They were +watchful still and exceeding tender—the eyes of the hero she loved. +They faintly smiled at her. To his death he would keep up the farce. To +his death he would never show her the secret he had borne so long.</p> + +<p>"Ah! The message!" he said, with an effort. "You gave it?"</p> + +<p>"There was no need of a message," Averil cried. "You invented it to get +me away, to make me escape from danger. You knew that otherwise I would +not have gone. It was your only reason for sending me."</p> + +<p>He did not answer her. The smile died slowly out. His eyes passed to +Derrick. He looked at him very earnestly, and there was unutterable +pleading in the look.</p> + +<p>The boy stooped forward. Shocked by the sudden discovery, he yet +answered as it were involuntarily to the man's unspoken wish. He knelt +down beside the girl, his arm about her shoulders. His voice came with a +great sob.</p> + +<p>"The Secret Service man and Carlyon of the Frontier in one!" he said. "A +man who does not forsake his friends. I might have known."</p> + +<p>There was a pause, a great silence. Then Carlyon of the Frontier spoke +softly, thoughtfully, with grave satisfaction it seemed. He looked at +neither of them, but beyond them both. His eyes were steady and +fearless.</p> + +<p>"A blackguard—a spy—yet faithful to his friends—even so," he said; +and died.</p> + +<p>The boy and girl were left to each other. He had meant it to be so—had +worked for it, suffered for it. In the end Carlyon of the Frontier had +done that which he had set himself to do, at a cost which none other +would ever know—not even the girl who had loved him.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='The_Penalty'></a><h2>The Penalty</h2> + +<h2>I</h2> +<br /> + +<center> + <a href='#Penalty_II'><b>II,</b></a> + <a href='#Penalty_III'><b> III,</b></a> + <a href='#Penalty_IV'><b> IV,</b></a> + <a href='#Penalty_V'><b> V,</b></a> + <a href='#Penalty_VI'><b> VI,</b></a> + <a href='#Penalty_VII'><b> VII,</b></a> + <a href='#Penalty_VIII'><b> VIII,</b></a> + <a href='#Penalty_IX'><b> IX</b></a> +</center> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<p>"Now then, you fellows, step out there! Step out like the men you are! +Left—right! Left—right! That's the way! Holy Jupiter! Call those chaps +savages! They're gentlemen, every jack one of 'em. That's it, my +hearties! Salute the old flag! By Jove, Monty, a British squad couldn't +have done it better!"</p> + +<p>The speaker pushed back his helmet to wipe his forehead. He was very +much in earnest. The African sun blazing down on his bronzed face +revealed that. The blue eyes glittered out of the lean, tanned +countenance. They were full of resolution, indomitable resolution, and +good British pluck.</p> + +<p>As the little company of black men swung by, with the rhythmic pad of +their bare feet, he suddenly snatched out his sword and waved it high in +the smiting sunlight.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" he cried.</p> + +<p>They stood as one man, all gleaming eyes and gleaming teeth. They were +all a good head taller than the Englishman who commanded them, but they +looked upon him with reverence, as a being half divine.</p> + +<p>"Now, cheer, you beggars, cheer!" he cried. "Three cheers for the King! +Hip, hip—"</p> + +<p>"Hooray!" came in hoarse chorus from the assembled troop. It sounded +like a war cry.</p> + +<p>"Hip, hip—" yelled the Englishman again.</p> + +<p>And again "Hooray!" came the answering yell.</p> + +<p>"Hip, hip—" for the third time from the man with the sword.</p> + +<p>And for the third time, "Hooray!" from the deep-chested troopers halted +in the blazing sunshine.</p> + +<p>The British officer turned about with an odd smile quivering at the +corners of his mouth. There was an almost maternal tenderness about it.</p> + +<p>He sheathed his sword.</p> + +<p>"You beauties!" he murmured softly. "You beauties!" Then aloud, "Very +good, sergeant! Dismiss them! Come along, Monty! Let's go and have a +drink."</p> + +<p>He linked his arm in that of the silent onlooker, and drew him into the +little hut of rough-hewn timber which was dignified by the name, printed +in white letters over the door, of "Officers' Quarters."</p> + +<p>"What do you think of them?" he demanded, as they entered. "Aren't they +soldiers? Aren't they men?"</p> + +<p>"I think, Duncannon," the other answered slowly, "that you have worked +wonders."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you'll tell the Chief so? Won't he be astounded? He swore I should +never do it; declared they'd knife me if I tried to hammer any +discipline into them. Much he knows about it! Good old Chief!"</p> + +<p>He laughed boyishly, and again wiped his hot face.</p> + +<p>"On my soul, Monty, it's been no picnic," he declared. "But I'd have +sacrificed five years' pay, and my step as well, gladly—gladly—sooner +than have missed it. Here you are, old boy! Drink! Drink to the latest +auxiliary force in the British Empire! Damn' thirsty climate, this."</p> + +<p>He tossed his helmet aside, and sat down on the edge of the table—a +lithe, spare figure, brimming with active strength.</p> + +<p>"I've literally coaxed those chaps into shape," he declared. "Oh, yes, +I've bullied 'em too—cursed 'em right and left; but they never turned a +hair—knew it was all for their good, and took it lying down. I've +taught 'em to wash too, you know. That was the hardest job of all. I +knocked one great brute all round the parade-ground one day, just to +show I was in earnest. He went off afterwards, and blubbed like a baby. +But in the evening I found him squatting outside, quite naked, and as +clean as a whistle. To quote the newspapers, I was profoundly touched. +But I didn't show it, you bet. I whacked him on the shoulder, and told +him to be a man."</p> + +<p>He broke off to laugh at the reminiscence; and Montague Herne gravely +set down his glass, and turned his chair with its back to the sunlight.</p> + +<p>"Do you know you've been here eighteen months?" he said.</p> + +<p>Duncannon nodded.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if I'd been born here. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Most fellows," proceeded Herne, ignoring the question, "would have been +clamouring for leave long ago. Why, you have scarcely heard your own +language all this time."</p> + +<p>"I have though," said Duncannon quickly. "That's another thing I've +taught 'em. They picked it up wonderfully quickly. There isn't one of +'em who doesn't know a few sentences now."</p> + +<p>"You seem to have found your vocation in teaching these heathen to sit +up and beg," observed Herne, with a dry smile.</p> + +<p>Duncannon turned dusky red under his tan.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I have," he said, with a certain, doggedness.</p> + +<p>Herne, with his back to the light, was watching him.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said finally, "we've served our turn. The battalion is going +Home!"</p> + +<p>Duncannon gave a great start.</p> + +<p>"Already?"</p> + +<p>"After two years' service," the other reminded him grimly.</p> + +<p>Duncannon fell silent, considering, the matter with bent brows.</p> + +<p>"Who succeeds us?" he asked at length.</p> + +<p>Herne shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"You don't know?" There was sudden, sharp anxiety in Duncannon's voice. +He got off the table with a jerk. "You must know," he said.</p> + +<p>Herne sat motionless, but he no longer looked the other in the face.</p> + +<p>"You've taught 'em to fight," he said slowly. "They are men enough to +look after themselves now."</p> + +<p>"What?" Duncannon flung the word with violence. He took a single stride +forward, standing over Herne in an attitude that was almost menacing. +His hands were clenched. "What?" he said again.</p> + +<p>Herne leaned back, and felt for his cigarette-case.</p> + +<p>"Take it easy, old chap!" he said. "It was bound to come, you know. It +was never meant to be more than a temporary occupation among these +friendlies. They have been useful to us, I admit. But we can't fight +their battles for them for ever. It's time for them to stand on their +own legs. Have a smoke!"</p> + +<p>Duncannon ignored the invitation. He turned pale to the lips. For a +space of seconds he said nothing whatever. Then at length, slowly, in a +voice that was curiously even, "Yes, I've taught 'em to fight," he said. +"And now I'm to leave 'em to be massacred, am I?"</p> + +<p>Herne shrugged his shoulders again, not because he was actually +indifferent, but because, under the circumstances, it was the easiest +answer to make.</p> + +<p>Duncannon went on in the same dead-level tone:</p> + +<p>"Yes, they've been useful to us, these friendlies. They've made common +cause with us against those infernal Wandis. They might have stayed +neutral, or they might have whipped us off the ground. But they didn't. +They brought us supplies, and they brought us mules, and they helped us +along generally, and hauled us out of tight corners. They've given us +all we asked for, and more to it. And now they are going to pay the +penalty, to reap our gratitude. They're going to be left to themselves +to fight our enemies—the fellows we couldn't beat—single-handed, +without experience, without a leader, and only half trained. They are +going to be left as a human sacrifice to pay our debts."</p> + +<p>He paused, standing erect and tense, staring out into the blinding +sunlight. Then suddenly, like the swift kindling of a flame, his +attitude changed. He flung up his hands with a wild gesture.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm damned!" he cried violently. "I'm damned if they shall! They +are my men—the men I made. I've taught 'em every blessed thing they +know. I've taught 'em to reverence the old flag, and I'm damned if I'll +see them betrayed! You can go back to the Chief, and tell him so! Tell +him they're British subjects, staunch to the backbone! Why, they can +even sing the first verse of the National Anthem! You'll hear them at +it to-night before they turn in. They always do. It's a sort of evening +hymn to them. Oh, Monty, Monty, what cursed trick will our fellows think +of next, I wonder? Are we men, or are we reptiles, we English? And we +boast—we boast of our national honour!"</p> + +<p>He broke off, breathing short and hard, as a man desperately near to +collapse, and leaned his head on his arm against the rough wall as if in +shame.</p> + +<p>Herne glanced at him once or twice before replying.</p> + +<p>"You see," he said at length, speaking somewhat laboriously, "what we've +got to do is to obey orders. We were sent out here not to think but to +do. We're on Government service. They are responsible for the thinking +part. We have to carry it out, that's all. They have decided to evacuate +this district, and withdraw to the coast. So"—again he shrugged his +shoulders—"there's no more to be said. We must go."</p> + +<p>He paused, and glanced again at the slight, khaki-clad figure that +leaned against the wall.</p> + +<p>After a moment, meeting with no response, he resumed.</p> + +<p>"There's no sense in taking it hard, since there is no help for it. You +always knew that it was an absolutely temporary business. Of course, if +we could have smashed the Wandis, these chaps would have had a better +look-out. But—well, we haven't smashed them."</p> + +<p>"We hadn't enough men!" came fiercely from Duncannon.</p> + +<p>"True! We couldn't afford to do things on a large scale. Moreover, it's +a beastly country, as even you must admit. And it isn't worth a big +struggle. Besides, we can't occupy half the world to prevent the other +half playing the deuce with it. Come, Bobby, don't be a fool, for +Heaven's sake! You've been treated as a god too long, and it's turned +your head. Don't you want to get Home? What about your people? What +about——"</p> + +<p>Duncannon turned sharply. His face was drawn and grey.</p> + +<p>"I'm not thinking of them," he said, in a choked voice. "You don't know +what this means to me. You couldn't know, and I can't explain. But my +mind is made up on one point. Whoever goes—I stay!"</p> + +<p>He spoke deliberately, though his breathing was still quick and uneven. +His eyes were sternly steadfast.</p> + +<p>Herne stared at him in amazement.</p> + +<p>"My good fellow," he said, "you are talking like a lunatic! I think you +must have got a touch of sun."</p> + +<p>A faint smile flickered over Duncannon's set face.</p> + +<p>"No, it isn't that," he said. "It's a touch of something else—something +you wouldn't understand."</p> + +<p>"But—heavens above!—you have no choice!" Herne exclaimed, rising +abruptly. "You can't say you'll do this or that. So long as you wear a +sword, you have to obey orders."</p> + +<p>"That's soon remedied," said Duncannon, between his teeth.</p> + +<p>With a sudden, passionate movement he jerked the weapon from its sheath, +held it an instant gleaming between his hands, then stooped and bent it +double across his knee.</p> + +<p>It snapped with a sharp click, and instantly he straightened himself, +the shining fragments in his hands, and looked Montague Herne in the +eyes.</p> + +<p>"When you go back to the Chief," he said, speaking very steadily, "you +can take him this, and tell him that the British Government can play +what damned dirty trick they please upon their allies. But I will take +no part in it. I shall stick to my friends."</p> + +<p>And with that he flung the jingling pieces of steel upon the table, took +up his helmet, and passed out into the fierce glare of the little +parade-ground.</p> +<br /> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Penalty_II'></a><h2>II</h2> + + + +<p>"Oh, is it our turn at last? I am glad!"</p> + +<p>Betty Derwent raised eyes of absolute honesty to the man who had just +come to her side, and laid her hand with obvious alacrity upon his arm.</p> + +<p>"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself," he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm not!" she declared, with vehemence. "It's perfectly horrid. I hope +you're not wanting to dance, Major Herne? For I want to sit out, +and—and get cool, if possible."</p> + +<p>"I want what you want," said Herne. "Shall we go outside?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—no! I really don't know. I've only just come in. I want to get +away—right away. Can't you think of a quiet corner?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Herne, "if it's all one to you where you go."</p> + +<p>"I should like to run away," the girl said impetuously, "right away from +everybody—except you."</p> + +<p>"That's very good of you," said Herne, faintly smiling.</p> + +<p>The hand that rested on his arm closed with an agitated pressure.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, it isn't!" she assured him. "It's quite selfish. I—I am like +that, you know. Where are we going?"</p> + +<p>"Upstairs," said Herne.</p> + +<p>"Upstairs!" She glanced at him in surprise, but he offered no +explanation. They were already ascending.</p> + +<p>But when they had mounted one flight of stairs, and were beginning to +mount a second, the girl's eyes flashed understanding.</p> + +<p>"Major Herne, you're a real friend in need!"</p> + +<p>"Think so?" said Herne. "Perhaps—at heart—I am as selfish as you +are."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mind that," she rejoined impulsively. "You are all selfish, +every one of you, but—thank goodness!—you don't all want the same +thing."</p> + +<p>Montague Herne raised his brows a little.</p> + +<p>"Quite sure of that?"</p> + +<p>"Quite sure," said Betty vigorously. "I always know." She added with +apparent inconsequence, "That's how it is we always get on so well. Are +you going to take me right out on to the ramparts? Are you sure there +will be no one else there?"</p> + +<p>"There will be no one where we are going," he said.</p> + +<p>She sighed a sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>"How good! We shall get some air up there, too. And I want air—plenty +of it. I feel suffocated."</p> + +<p>"Mind how you go!" said Herne. "These stairs are uneven."</p> + +<p>They had come to a spiral staircase of stone. Betty mounted it +light-footed, Herne following close behind.</p> + +<p>In the end they came to an oak door, against which the girl set her +hand.</p> + +<p>"Major Herne! It's locked!"</p> + +<p>"Allow me!" said Herne.</p> + +<p>He had produced a large key, at which Betty looked with keen +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"You really are a wonderful person. You overcome all difficulties."</p> + +<p>"Not quite that, I am afraid." Herne was smiling. "But this is a +comparatively simple matter. The key happens to be in my charge. With +your permission, we will lock the door behind us."</p> + +<p>"Do!" she said eagerly. "I have never been at this end of the ramparts. +I believe I shall spend the rest of the evening here, where no one can +follow us."</p> + +<p>"Haven't you any more partners?" asked Herne.</p> + +<p>She showed him a full card with a little grimace.</p> + +<p>"I have had such an awful experience. I am going to cut the rest."</p> + +<p>He smiled a little.</p> + +<p>"Rather hard on the rest. However——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be silly!" she said impatiently. "It isn't like you."</p> + +<p>"No," said Herne.</p> + +<p>He spoke quietly, almost as if he were thinking of something else. They +had passed through the stone doorway, and had emerged upon a flagged +passage that led between stone walls to the ramparts. Betty passed along +this quickly, mounted the last flight of steps that led to the +battlements, and stood suddenly still.</p> + +<p>A marvellous scene lay spread below them in the moonlight—silent land +and whispering sea. The music of the band in the distant ballroom rose +fitfully—such music as is heard in dreams. Betty stood quite motionless +with the moonlight shining on her face. She looked like a nymph caught +up from the shimmering water.</p> + +<p>Impulsively at length she turned to the man beside her.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you what has been happening to me to-night?"</p> + +<p>"If you really wish me to know," said Herne.</p> + +<p>She jerked her shoulder with a hint of impatience.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if I must tell someone, and you are as safe, as any one I +know. I have danced with six men so far, and out of those six three have +asked me to marry them. It's been almost like a conspiracy, as if they +were doing it for a wager. Only, two of them were so horribly in earnest +that it couldn't have been that. Major Herne, why can't people be +reasonable?"</p> + +<p>"Heaven knows!" said Herne.</p> + +<p>She gave him a quick smile.</p> + +<p>"If I get another proposal to-night I shall have hysterics. But I know I +am safe with you."</p> + +<p>Herne was silent.</p> + +<p>Betty gave a little shiver.</p> + +<p>"You think me very horrid to have told you?"</p> + +<p>"No," he answered deliberately, "I don't. I think that you were +extraordinarily wise."</p> + +<p>She laughed with a touch of wistfulness.</p> + +<p>"I have a feeling that if I quite understood what you meant, I shouldn't +regard that as a compliment."</p> + +<p>"Very likely not." Herne's dark face brooded over the distant water. He +did not so much as glance at the girl beside him, though her eyes were +studying him quite frankly.</p> + +<p>"Why are you so painfully discreet?" she said suddenly. "Don't you know +that I want you to give me advice?"</p> + +<p>"Which you won't take," said Herne.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I might. I quite well might. Anyhow, I should be +grateful."</p> + +<p>He rested one foot on the battlement, still not looking at her.</p> + +<p>"If you took my advice," he said, "you would marry."</p> + +<p>"Marry!" she said with a quick flush. "Why? Why should I?"</p> + +<p>"You know why," said Herne.</p> + +<p>"Really I don't. I am quite happy as I am."</p> + +<p>"Quite?" he said.</p> + +<p>She began to tap her fingers against the stonework. There was something +of nervousness in the action.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't possibly marry any one of the men who proposed to me +to-night," she said.</p> + +<p>"There are other men," said Herne.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, but—" She threw out her arms suddenly with a gesture that +had in it something passionate. "Oh, if only I were a man myself!" she +said. "How I wish I were!"</p> + +<p>"Why?" said Herne.</p> + +<p>She answered him instantly, her voice not wholly steady.</p> + +<p>"I want to travel. I want to explore. I want to go to the very heart of +the world, and—and learn its secrets."</p> + +<p>Herne turned his head very deliberately and looked at her.</p> + +<p>"And then?" he said.</p> + +<p>Half defiantly her eyes met his.</p> + +<p>"I would find Bobby Duncannon," she said, "and bring him back."</p> + +<p>Herne stood up slowly.</p> + +<p>"I thought that was it," he said.</p> + +<p>"And why shouldn't it be?" said Betty. "I have known him for a long time +now. Wouldn't you do as much for a pal?"</p> + +<p>Herne was silent for a moment. Then:</p> + +<p>"You would be wiser to forget him," he said. "He will never come back."</p> + +<p>"I shall never forget him," said Betty almost fiercely.</p> + +<p>He looked at her gravely.</p> + +<p>"You mean to waste the rest of your life waiting for him?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Her hands gripped each other suddenly.</p> + +<p>"You call it waste?" she said.</p> + +<p>"It is waste," he made answer, "sheer, damnable waste. The boy was mad +enough to sacrifice his own career—everything that he had—but it is +downright infernal that you should be sacrificed too. Why should you pay +the penalty for his madness? He was probably killed long ago, and even +if not—even if he lived and came back—you would probably ask yourself +if you had ever met him before."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" Betty said. "No!"</p> + +<p>She turned and looked out to the water that gleamed so peacefully in the +moonlight.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," she said, her voice very low, scarcely more than a +whisper, "he asked me to marry him—five years ago—just before he went. +It was my first proposal. I was very young, not eighteen. And—and it +frightened me. I really don't know why. And so I refused. He said he +would ask me again when I was older, when I had come out. I remember +being rather relieved when he went away. It wasn't till afterwards, when +I came to see the world and people, that I realized that he was more to +me than any one else. He—he was wonderfully fascinating, don't you +think? So strong, so eager, so full of life! I have never seen any one +quite like him." She leaned her hands suddenly against a projecting +stone buttress and bowed her head upon them. "And I—refused him!" she +said.</p> + +<p>The low voice went out in a faint sob, and the man's hands clenched. The +next instant he had crossed the space that divided him from the slender +figure in its white draperies that drooped against the wall.</p> + +<p>He bent down to her.</p> + +<p>"Betty, Betty," he said, "you're crying for the moon, child. Don't!"</p> + +<p>She turned, and with a slight, confiding movement slid out a trembling +hand.</p> + +<p>"I have never told anyone but you," she said.</p> + +<p>He clasped the quivering fingers very closely.</p> + +<p>"I would sell my soul to see you happy," he said. "But, my dear Betty, +happiness doesn't lie in that direction. You are sacrificing substance +to shadow. Won't you see it before it's too late, before the lean years +come?" He paused a moment, seeming to restrain himself. Then, "I've +never told you before," he said, his voice very low, deeply tender. "I +hardly dare to tell you now, lest you should think I'm trading on your +friendship, but I, too, am one of those unlucky beggars that want to +marry you. You needn't trouble to refuse me, dear. I'll take it all for +granted. Only, when the lean years do come to you, as they will, as they +must, will you remember that I'm still wanting you, and give me the +chance of making you happy?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't!" sobbed Betty. "Don't! You hurt me so!"</p> + +<p>"Hurt you, Betty! I!"</p> + +<p>She turned impulsively and leaned her head against him.</p> + +<p>"Major Herne, you—you are awfully good to me, do you know? I shall +never forget it. And if—if I were not quite sure in my heart that Bobby +is still alive and wanting me, I would come to you, if you really cared +to have me. But—but—"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that, Betty?" he said. His arm was round her, but he did +not seek to draw her nearer, did not so much as try to see her face.</p> + +<p>But she showed it to him instantly, lifting clear eyes, in which the +tears still shone, to his.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I mean it. But, Major Herne, but——"</p> + +<p>He met her look, faintly smiling.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said. "It's a pretty big 'but,' I know, but I'm going to +tackle it. I'm going to find out if the boy is alive or dead. If he +lives, you shall see him again; if he is dead—and this is the more +probable, for it is no country for white men—I shall claim you for +myself, Betty. You won't refuse me then?"</p> + +<p>"Only find out for certain," she said.</p> + +<p>"I will do that," he promised.</p> + +<p>"But how? How? You won't go there yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" he said.</p> + +<p>Something like panic showed in the girl's eyes. She laid her hands on +his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Monty, I don't want you to go."</p> + +<p>"You would rather I stayed?" he said. He was looking closely into her +eyes.</p> + +<p>She endured the look for a little, then suddenly the tears welled up +again.</p> + +<p>"I can't bear you to go," she whispered. "I mean—I mean—I couldn't +bear it if—if——"</p> + +<p>He took her hands gently, and held them.</p> + +<p>"I shall come back to you, Betty," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you will!" she said very earnestly. "You will!"</p> + +<p>"I shall," said Montague Herne; and he said it as a man whose resolution +no power on earth might turn.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Penalty_III'></a><h2>III</h2> + +<p>No country for white men indeed! Herne grimly puffed a cloud of smoke +into a whirl of flies, and rose from the packing-case off which he had +dined.</p> + +<p>Near by were the multitudinous sounds of the camp, the voices of Arabs, +the grunting of camels, the occasional squeal of a mule. Beyond lay the +wilderness, mysterious, silent, immense, the home of the unknown.</p> + +<p>He had reached the outermost edge of civilization, and he was waiting +for the return of an Arab spy, a man he trusted, who had pushed on into +the interior. The country beyond him was a dense tract of bush almost +impenetrable; so far as he knew, waterless.</p> + +<p>In the days of the British expedition this had been an almost +insuperable obstacle, but Herne was in no mood to turn back. Behind him +lay desert, wide and barren under the fierce African sun. He had +traversed it with a dogged patience, regardless of hardship, and, +whatever lay ahead of him, he meant to go on. Hidden deep below the +man's calm aspect there throbbed a fierce impatience. It tortured him by +night, depriving him of rest.</p> + +<p>Very curiously, the conviction had begun to take root in his soul also +that Bobby Duncannon still lived. In England he had scouted the notion, +but here in the heart of the desert everything seemed possible. He felt +as if a voice were calling to him out of the mystery towards which he +had set his face, a voice that was never silent, continually urging him +on.</p> + +<p>Wandering that night on the edge of the bush, with the camp-fires behind +him, he told himself that until he knew the truth he would never turn +back.</p> + +<p>He lay down at last, though his restlessness was strong upon him, +compelling his body at least to be passive, while hour after hour +crawled by and the wondrous procession of stars wheeled overhead.</p> + +<p>In the early morning there came a stir in the camp, and he rose, to find +that his messenger had returned. The man was waiting for him outside his +tent. The orange and gold of sunrise was turning the desert into a +wonderland of marvellous colour, but Herne's eyes took no note thereof. +He saw only his Arab guide bending before him in humble salutation, +while in his heart he heard a girl's voice, low and piteous, "Bobby is +still alive and wanting me."</p> + +<p>"Well, Hassan?" he questioned. "Any news?"</p> + +<p>The man's eyes gleamed with a certain triumph.</p> + +<p>"There is news, <i>effendi</i>. The man the <i>effendi</i> seeks is no longer +chief of the Zambas. They have been swallowed up by the Wandis."</p> + +<p>Herne groaned. It was only what he had expected, but the memory of the +boy's face with its eager eyes was upon him. The pity of it! The vast, +irretrievable waste!</p> + +<p>"Then he is dead?" he said.</p> + +<p>The Arab spread out his hands.</p> + +<p>"Allah knows. But the Wandis do not always slay their prisoners, +<i>effendi</i>. The old and the useless ones they burn, but the strong ones +they save alive. It may be that he lives."</p> + +<p>"As a slave!" Herne said.</p> + +<p>"It is possible, <i>effendi</i>." The Arab considered a moment. Then, "The +road to the country of the Wandis is no journey for <i>effendis</i>," he +said. "The path is hard to find, and there is no water. Also, the bush +is thick, and there are many savages. But beyond all are the mountains +where the Wandis dwell. It is possible that the chief of the Zambas has +been carried to their City of Stones. It is a wonderful place, +<i>effendi</i>. But the way thither, especially now, even for an Arab——"</p> + +<p>"I am going myself," Herne said.</p> + +<p>"The <i>effendi</i> will die!"</p> + +<p>Herne shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Be it so! I am going!"</p> + +<p>"But not alone, <i>effendi</i>." A speculative gleam shone in the Arab's wary +eyes. He was the only available guide, and he knew it. The Englishman +was mad, of course, but he was willing to humour him—for a +consideration.</p> + +<p>Herne saw the gleam, and his grim face relaxed.</p> + +<p>"Name your price, Hassan!" he said. "If it doesn't suit me—I go alone."</p> + +<p>Hassan smiled widely. Certainly the Englishman was mad, but he had a +sporting fancy for mad Englishmen, a fancy that kept his pouch well +filled. He had not the smallest intention of letting this one out of his +sight.</p> + +<p>"We will go together, <i>effendi</i>," he said. "The price shall not be named +between us until we return in peace. But the <i>effendi</i> will need a +disguise. The Wandis have no love for the English."</p> + +<p>"Then I will go as your brother," said Herne.</p> + +<p>The Arab bowed low.</p> + +<p>"As traders in spice," he said, "we might, by the goodness of Allah, +pass through to the Great Desert. But we could not go with a large +caravan, <i>effendi</i>, and we should take our lives in our hands."</p> + +<p>"Even so," said the Englishman imperturbably. "Let us waste no time!"</p> + +<p>It had been his attitude throughout, and it had had its effect upon the +men who had travelled with him. They had come to look upon him with +reverence, this mad Englishman, who was thus calmly preparing to risk +his life for a man whose bones had probably whitened in the desert years +before. By sheer, indomitable strength of purpose Herne was +accomplishing inch by inch the task that he had set himself.</p> + +<p>A few days more found him traversing the wide, scrub-grown plateau that +stretched to the mountains where the Wandis had their dwelling-place. +The journey was a bitter one, the heat intense, the difficulties of the +way sometimes wellnigh insurmountable. They carried water with them, +but the need for economy was great, and Herne was continually possessed +by a consuming thirst that he never dared to satisfy.</p> + +<p>The party consisted of himself, Hassan, an Arab lad, and five natives. +The rest of his following he had left on the edge of civilization, +encamped in the last oasis between the desert and the scrub, with orders +to await his return. If, as the Arab had suggested, he succeeded in +pushing through to the farther desert, he would return by a more +southerly route, giving Wanda as wide a berth as possible.</p> + +<p>Thus ran his plans as, day after day, he pressed farther into the heart +of the unknown country that the British had abandoned in despair over +three years before. They found it deserted, in some parts almost +impenetrable, so dense was the growth of bush in all directions. And yet +there were times when it seemed to Herne that the sense of emptiness was +but a superficial impression, as if unseen eyes watched them on that +journey of endless monotony, as if the very camels knew of a lurking +espionage, and sneered at their riders' ignorance.</p> + +<p>This feeling came to him generally at night, when he had partially +assuaged the torment of thirst that gave him no peace by day, and his +mind was more at leisure for speculation. At such times, lying apart +from his companions, wrapt in the immense silence of the African night, +the conviction would rise up within him that every inch of their +progress through that land of mystery was marked by a close observation, +that even as he lay he was under <i>surveillance</i>, that the dense +obscurity of the bush all about him was peopled by stealthy watchers +whose vigilance was never relaxed.</p> + +<p>He mentioned his suspicion once to Hassan; but the Arab only smiled.</p> + +<p>"The desert never sleeps, <i>effendi</i>. The very grass of the <i>savannah</i> +has ears."</p> + +<p>It was not a very satisfactory explanation, but Herne accepted it. He +put down his uneasiness to the restlessness of nerves that were ever on +the alert, and determined to ignore it. But it pursued him, none the +less; and coupled with it was the voice that called to him perpetually, +like the crying of a lost soul.</p> + +<p>They were drawing nearer to the mountains when one day the Arab lad, +Ahmed, disappeared. It happened during the midday halt, when the rest of +the party were drowsing. No one knew when he went or how, but he +vanished as if a hand had plucked him off the face of the earth. It +seemed unlikely that he would have wandered into the bush, but this was +the only conclusion that they could come to; and they spent the rest of +the day in fruitless searching.</p> + +<p>Herne slept not at all that night. The place seemed to be alive with +ghostly whisperings, and he could not bring himself to rest. He spent +the long hours revolver in hand, waiting with a dogged patience for the +dawn.</p> + +<p>But when it came at last, in a sudden tropical stream of light +illuminating all things, he knew that, his vigilance notwithstanding, he +had been tricked. The morning dawned upon a deserted camp. The natives +had fled in the night, and only Hassan and the camels remained.</p> + +<p>Hassan was largely contemptuous.</p> + +<p>"Let them go!" he said. "We are but a day's journey from Wanda. We will +go forward alone, <i>effendi</i>. The chief of the Wandis will not slay two +peaceful merchants who desire only to travel through to the Great +Desert."</p> + +<p>And so, with the camels strung together, they went forward. There was no +attempt at concealment in their progress. The path they travelled was +clearly defined, and they pursued it unmolested. But ever the conviction +followed Herne that countless eyes were upon them, that through the +depths of the bush naked bodies slipped like reptiles, hemming them in +on every side.</p> + +<p>They had travelled a couple of hours, and the sun was climbing +unpleasantly high, when, rounding a curve of the path, they came +suddenly upon a huddled figure. It looked at first sight no more than a +bundle of clothes kicked to one side, too limp and tattered to contain a +human form. But neither Herne nor his companion was deceived. Both knew +in a flash what that inanimate object was.</p> + +<p>Hassan was beside it in a moment, and Herne only waited to draw his +revolver before he followed.</p> + +<p>It was the boy, Ahmed, still breathing indeed, but so far gone that +every gasp seemed as if it must be his last. Hassan drew back the +covering from his face, and, in spite of himself, Herne shuddered; for +it was mutilated beyond recognition. The features were slashed to +ribbons.</p> + +<p>"Water, <i>effendi</i>!" Hassan's voice recalled him; and he turned aside to +procure it.</p> + +<p>It was little more than a tepid drain, but it acted like magic upon the +dying boy. There came a gasping whisper, and Hassan stooped to hear.</p> + +<p>When, a few minutes later, he stood up, Herne knew that the end had +come; knew, too, by the look in the Arab's eyes that they stood +themselves on the brink of that great gulf into which the boy's life had +but that instant slipped.</p> + +<p>"The Wandis have returned from a great slaughter," Hassan said. "Their +Prophet is with them, and they bring many captives. The lad wandered +into the bush, and was caught by a band of spies. They tortured him, and +let him go, <i>effendi</i>. Thus will they torture us if we go forward any +longer." He caught at the bridle of the nearest camel. "The lust of +blood is upon them," he said. "We will go back."</p> + +<p>"Not so," Herne said. "If we go back we die, for the water is almost +gone. We must press forward now. There will be water in the mountains."</p> + +<p>Hassan glanced at him sideways. He looked as if he were minded to defy +the mad Englishman, but Herne's revolver was yet in his hand, and he +thought better of it. Moreover, he knew, as did Herne, that their water +supply was not sufficient to take them back. So, without further +discussion, they pressed on until the heat compelled them to halt.</p> + +<p>It had seemed to Herne the previous night that he could never close his +eyes again, but now as he descended from his camel, an intense +drowsiness possessed him. For a while he strove against it, and managed +to keep it at bay; but the sight of Hassan, curled up and calmly +slumbering, soon served to bring home to him the futility of +watchfulness. The Arab was obviously resigned to his particular fate, +whatever that might be, and, since sleep had become a necessity to him, +it seemed useless to combat it. What, after all, could vigilance do for +him in that world of hostility? The odds were so strongly against him +that it had become almost a fight against the inevitable. And he was too +tired to keep it up. With a sigh, he suffered his limbs to relax and lay +as one dead.</p> + + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Penalty_IV'></a><h2>IV</h2> +<br /> + +<p>HE awoke hours after with an inarticulate feeling that someone wanted +him, and started up to the sound of a rifle shot that pierced the +stillness like a crack of thunder. In a second he would have been upon +his feet, but, even as he sprang, something else that was very close at +hand sprang also, and hurled him backwards. He found himself fighting +desperately in the grip of an immense savage, fighting at a hopeless +disadvantage, with the man's knees crushing the breath out of his body, +and the man's hands locked upon his throat.</p> + +<p>He struggled fiercely for bare life, but he was powerless to loosen that +awful, merciless pressure. The barbaric face that glared into his own +wore a devilish grin, inexpressibly malignant. It danced before his +starting eyes like some hideous spectre seen in delirium, intermittent, +terrible, with blinding flashes of light breaking between. He felt as if +his head were bursting. The agony of suffocation possessed him to the +exclusion of all else. There came a sudden glaze in his brain that was +like the shattering of every faculty, and then, in a blood-red mist, his +understanding passed.</p> + +<p>It seemed to him when the light reeled back again that he had been +unconscious for a very long time. He awoke to excruciating pain, of +which he seemed to have been vaguely aware throughout, and found himself +bound hand and foot and slung across the back of a camel. He dangled +helplessly face downwards, racked by cramp and a fiery torment of thirst +more intolerable than anything he had ever known.</p> + +<p>Darkness had fallen, but he caught the gleam of torches, and he knew +that he was surrounded by a considerable body of men. The ground they +travelled was stony and ascended somewhat steeply. Herne swung about +like a bale of goods, torn by his bonds, flung this way and that, and +utterly unable to protect himself in any way, or to ease his position.</p> + +<p>He set his teeth to endure the torture, but it was so intense that he +presently fainted again, and only recovered consciousness when the +agonizing progress ceased. He opened his eyes, to find the camel that +had borne him kneeling, and he himself being bundled by two brawny +savages on to the ground. He fell like a log, and so was left. But, +bound though he was, the relief of lying motionless was such that he +presently recovered so far as to be able to look about him.</p> + +<p>He discovered that he was lying in what appeared to be a huge +amphitheatre of sand, surrounded by high cliffs, ragged and barren, and +strewn with boulders. Two great fires burned at several yards' distance, +and about these, a number of savages were congregated. From somewhere +behind came the trickle of water, and the sound goaded him to something +that was very nearly approaching madness. He dragged himself up on to +his knees. His thirst was suddenly unendurable.</p> + +<p>But the next instant he was flat on his face in the sand, struck down by +a blow on the back of the neck that momentarily stunned him. For a while +he lay prone, gritting the sand in his teeth; then again with the +strength of frenzy he struggled upwards.</p> + +<p>He had a glimpse of his guard standing over him, and recognized the +savage who had nearly strangled him, before a second crashing blow +brought him down. He lay still then, overwhelmed in darkness for a long, +long time.</p> + +<p>He scarcely knew when he was lifted at last and borne forward into the +great circle of light cast by one of the fires. He felt the glare upon +his eyeballs, but it conveyed nothing to him. Over by the farther fire +some festivity seemed to be in progress. He had a vague vision of +leaping, naked bodies, and the flash of knives. There was a good deal of +shouting also, and now and then a nightmare shriek. And then came the +torment of the fire, great heat enveloping him, thirst that was anguish.</p> + +<p>He turned upon his captors, but his mouth was too dry for speech. He +could only glare dumbly into their evil faces, and they glared back at +him in fiendish triumph. Nearer to the red glow they came, nearer yet. +He could hear the crackle of the licking flames. They danced giddily +before his eyes.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the arms that bore him swung back. He knew instinctively that +they were preparing to hurl him into the heart of the fire, and the +instinct of self-preservation rushed upon him, stabbing him to vivid +consciousness. With a gigantic effort he writhed himself free from their +hold.</p> + +<p>He fell headlong, but the strength of madness had entered into him. He +fought like a man possessed, straining at his bonds till they cracked +and burst, forcing from his parched throat sounds which in saner moments +he would not have recognized as human, struggling, tearing, raging, in +furious self-defence.</p> + +<p>He was hopelessly outmatched. The odds were such as no man in his senses +could have hoped to combat with anything approaching success. Almost +before his bonds began to loosen, his enemies were upon him again. They +hoisted him up, fighting like a maniac. They tightened his bonds +unconcernedly, and prepared for a second attempt.</p> + +<p>But, before it could be made, a fierce yell rang suddenly from the +cliffs above them, echoing weirdly through the savage pandemonium, +arresting, authoritative, piercingly insistent.</p> + +<p>What it portended Herne had not the vaguest notion, but its effect upon +the two Wandis who held him was instant and astounding. They dropped him +like a stone, and fled as if pursued by furies.</p> + +<p>As for Herne, he wriggled and writhed from the vicinity of the fire, +still working at his bonds, his one idea to reach the water that he knew +was running within a stone's throw of him. It was an agonizing progress, +but he felt no pain but that awful, consuming thirst, knew no fear but a +ghastly dread that he might fail to reach his goal. For a single +mouthful of water at that moment he would have bartered his very soul.</p> + +<p>His breathing came in great gasps. The sweat was running down his face. +His heart beat thickly, spasmodically. His senses were tottering. But he +clung tenaciously to the one idea. He could not die with his thirst +unquenched. If he crawled every inch of the way upon his stomach, he +would somehow reach the haven of his desire.</p> + +<p>There came the padding of feet upon the sand close to him, and he cursed +aloud and bitterly. It was death this time, of course. He shut his eyes +and lay motionless, waiting for it. He only hoped that it might be +swift; that the hellish torture he was suffering might be ended at a +blow.</p> + +<p>But no blow fell. Hands touched him, severed his bonds, dragged him +roughly up. Then, as he staggered, powerless for the moment to stand, an +arm, hard and fleshless as the arm of a skeleton, caught him and urged +him forward. Irresistibly impelled, he left the glare of the fire, and +stumbled into deep shadow.</p> + +<p>Ten seconds later he was on his knees by a natural basin of rock in +which clear water brimmed, plunged up to the elbows, and drinking as +only a man who has known the thirst of the desert can drink.</p> + +<br /> + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Penalty_V'></a><h2>V</h2> +<br /> + +<p>He turned at last from that exquisite draught with the water running +down his face. His Arab dress hung about him in tatters. He was bruised +and bleeding in a dozen places. But the man's heart of him was alive +again and beating strongly. He was ready to sell his life as dearly as +he might.</p> + +<p>He looked round for the native who had brought him thither, but it +seemed to him that he was alone, shut away by a frowning pile of rock +from the great amphitheatre in which the Wandis were celebrating their +return from the slaughter of their enemies. The shouting and the +shrieking continued in ghastly tumult, but for the moment he seemed to +be safe.</p> + +<p>The moon was up, but the shadows were very deep. He seemed to be +standing in a hollow, with sheer rock on three sides of him. The water +gurgled away down a narrow channel, and fell into darkness. With +infinite caution he crept forward to peer round the jutting boulder that +divided him from his enemies.</p> + +<p>The next instant sharply he drew back. A man armed with a long, native +spear was standing in the entrance.</p> + +<p>He was still a prisoner, then; that much was certain. But his guard was +single-handed. He began to consider the possibility of overpowering him. +He had no weapon, but he was a practised wrestler; and they were so far +removed from the yelling crowd about the fire that a scuffle in that +dark corner was little likely to attract attention.</p> + +<p>It was fairly obvious to him why he had been rescued from the fire. +Doubtless his gigantic struggles had been observed by the onlooker, and +he was considered too good a man to burn. They would keep him for a +slave, possibly mutilate him first.</p> + +<p>Again, stealthily, he investigated the position round that corner of +rock. The man's back was turned towards him. He seemed to be watching +the doings of the distant tribesmen. Herne freed himself from his ragged +garment, and crept nearer. His enemy was of no great stature. In fact, +he was the smallest Wandi that he had yet seen. He questioned with +himself if he could be full grown.</p> + +<p>Now or never was his chance, though a slender one at that, even if he +escaped immediate detection. He gathered himself together, and sprang +upon his unsuspecting foe.</p> + +<p>He aimed at the native weapon, knowing the dexterity with which this +could be shortened and brought into action, but it was wrenched from him +before he could securely grasp it.</p> + +<p>The man wriggled round like an eel, and in a moment the point was at his +throat. Herne flung up a defending arm, and took it through his flesh. +He knew in an instant that he was outmatched. His previous struggles had +weakened him, and his adversary, if slight, had the activity of a +serpent.</p> + +<p>For a few breathless seconds they swayed and fought, then again Herne +was conscious of that deadly point piercing his shoulder. With a sharp +exclamation, he shifted his ground, trod on a loose stone, and sprawled +headlong backward.</p> + +<p>He fell heavily, so heavily that all the breath was knocked out of his +body, and he could only lie, gasping and helpless, expecting death. His +enemy was upon him instantly, and he marvelled at the man's strength. +Sinewy hands encompassed his wrists, forcing his arms above his head. In +the darkness he could not see his face, though it was close to his own, +so close that he could feel his breathing, quick and hard, and knew that +it had been no light matter to master him.</p> + +<p>He himself had wholly ceased to fight. He was bleeding freely from the +shoulder, and a dizzy sense of powerlessness held him passive, awaiting +his deathblow.</p> + +<p>But still his adversary stayed his hand. The iron grip showed no sign of +relaxing, and to Herne, lying at his mercy, there came a fierce +impatience at the man's delay.</p> + +<p>"Curse you!" he flung upwards from between his teeth. "Why can't you +strike and have done?"</p> + +<p>His brain had begun to reel. He was scarcely in full possession of his +senses, or he had not wasted his breath in curses upon a savage who was +little likely to understand them. But the moment he had spoken, he knew +in some subtle fashion that his words had not fallen on uncomprehending +ears.</p> + +<p>The hands that held him relaxed very gradually. The man above him seemed +to be listening. Herne had a fantastic feeling that he was waiting for +something further, waiting as it were to gather impetus to slay him.</p> + +<p>And then, how it happened he had no notion, suddenly he was aware of a +change, felt the danger that menaced him pass, knew a surging darkness +that he took for death; and as his failing senses slid away from him he +thought he heard a voice that spoke his name.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Penalty_VI'></a><h2>VI</h2> + +<p>"BE still, <i>effendi</i>!"</p> + +<p>It was no more than a whisper, but it pierced Herne's understanding as a +burst of light through a rent curtain.</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes wide.</p> + +<p>"Hassan!" he said faintly.</p> + +<p>"I am here, <i>effendi.</i>" Very cautiously came the answer, and in the +dimness a figure familiar to him stooped over Herne.</p> + +<p>Herne tried to raise himself and failed with a groan. It was as if a +red-hot knife had stabbed his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"What happened?" he said.</p> + +<p>"The <i>effendi</i> is wounded," the Arab made answer. "We are the prisoners +of the Mullah. The Wandis would have slain us, but he saved us alive. +Doubtless they will mutilate us presently as they are mutilating the +rest."</p> + +<p>Herne set his teeth.</p> + +<p>"What is this Mullah like?" he asked, after a moment.</p> + +<p>"A man small of stature, <i>effendi</i>, but very fierce, with the visage of +a devil. The Wandis fear him greatly. When he looks upon them with anger +they flee."</p> + +<p>Herne's eyes were striving to pierce the gloom.</p> + +<p>"Where on earth are we?" he said.</p> + +<p>"It is the Mullah's dwelling-place, <i>effendi</i>, at the gate of the City +of Stones. None may enter or pass out without his knowledge. His slaves +brought me hither while the <i>effendi</i> was lying insensible. He cut my +bonds that I might bandage the <i>effendi's</i> shoulder."</p> + +<p>Again Herne sought to raise himself, and with difficulty succeeded. He +could make out but little of his surroundings in the gloom, but it +seemed to him that he was close to the spot where he had received his +wound, for the murmur of the spring was still in his ears, and in the +distance the yelling of the savages continued. But he was faint and +dizzy from pain and loss of blood, and his investigations did not carry +him very far. For a while he retained his consciousness, but presently +slipped into a stupor of exhaustion, through which all outside +influences soon failed to penetrate.</p> + +<p>He dreamed after a time that Betty Derwent and he were sailing alone +together on a stormy sea, striving eternally to reach an island where +the sun shone and the birds sang, and being for ever flung back again +into the howling waste of waters till, in agony of soul, they ceased to +strive.</p> + +<p>Then came the morning, all orange and gold, shining pitilessly down upon +him, and he awoke to the knowledge that Betty was far away, and he was +tossing alone on a sea that yet was no sea, but an endless desert of +sand. Intense physical pain dawned upon him at the same time, pain that +was anguish, thrilling through every nerve, so that he pleaded +feverishly for death, not knowing what he said.</p> + +<p>No voice answered him. No help came. He rocked on and on in torment +through the sandy desolation, seeing strange visions dissolve before his +eyes, hearing sounds to which his tortured brain could give no meaning. +In the end, he lost himself utterly in the mazes of delirum, and all +understanding ceased.</p> + +<p>Long, long afterwards he came back as it were from a great journey, and +knew that Hassan was waiting upon him, ministering to him, tending him +as if he had been a child. He was too weak for speech, almost too weak +to open his eyes, but the life was still beating in his veins. It was +the turn of the tide.</p> + +<p>Wearily he dragged himself back from the endless waste in which he had +wandered, back to sanity, back to the problems of life. Hassan smiled +upon him as a mother upon her infant, being not without cause for +self-congratulation on his own account.</p> + +<p>"The <i>effendi</i> is better," he said. "He will sleep and live."</p> + +<p>And Herne slept, as a child sleeps, for many hours.</p> + +<p>He awoke towards sunset to hear sounds that made him marvel—the +cheerful clatter of a camp, the voices of men, the protests of camels.</p> + +<p>It took him back to that last evening he had spent in contact with +civilization, the evening he had finally set himself to conquer the +unknown, in answer to a voice that called. How much of that mission had +he accomplished, he asked himself? How far was he even yet from his +goal?</p> + +<p>He gazed with drawn brows at the narrow walls of the tent in which he +lay, and presently, a certain measure of strength returning to him, he +raised himself on his sound arm and looked about him.</p> + +<p>On the instant he perceived the faithful Hassan watching beside him. The +Arab beamed upon him as their eyes met.</p> + +<p>"All is well, <i>effendi</i>," he said. "By the mercy of Allah, we have +reached the Great Desert, and are even now in the company of El Azra, +the spice merchant. We shall travel with his caravan in safety."</p> + +<p>"But how on earth did we get here?" questioned Herne.</p> + +<p>Hassan was eager to explain.</p> + +<p>"We escaped by night from Wanda three days ago, the Prophet of the +Wandis himself assisting us. You were wounded, <i>effendi</i>, and without +understanding. The Prophet of the Wandis bore you on his camel. It was a +journey of many dangers, but Allah protected us, and guided us to this +oasis, sending also El Azra to our succour. It is a strong caravan, +<i>effendi</i>. We shall be safe with him."</p> + +<p>But here Herne suddenly broke in upon his complacence.</p> + +<p>"It was not my intention to leave Wanda," he said, "till I had done what +I went to do. I must go back."</p> + +<p>"<i>Effendi</i>!"</p> + +<p>"I must go back!" he reiterated with force. "Do you think, because I +have been beaten once, I will give up in despair? I should have thought +you would have known me better by now."</p> + +<p>"But, <i>effendi</i>, there is nothing to be gained by going back," Hassan +pleaded. "The man you seek is dead, and we are already fifty miles from +Wanda."</p> + +<p>"How do you know he is dead?" Herne demanded.</p> + +<p>"From the mouth of the Wandi Prophet himself, <i>effendi</i>. He asked me +whence you came and wherefore, and when I told him, he said, 'The man is +dead.'"</p> + +<p>"Is this Prophet still with us?" Herne asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>effendi</i>, he is here. But he speaks no tongue save his own. And +he is a terrible man, with the face of a devil."</p> + +<p>"Bring him to me!" Herne said.</p> + +<p>"He will come, <i>effendi</i>; but he will only speak of himself. He will not +answer questions."</p> + +<p>"Enough! Fetch him!" Herne ordered. "And you remain and interpret!"</p> + +<p>But when Hassan was gone, his weakness returned upon him, and the +bitterness of defeat made itself felt. Was this the end of his long +struggle, to be overwhelmed at last by the odds he had so bravely dared? +It was almost unthinkable. He could not reconcile himself to it. And yet +at the heart of him lurked the conviction that failure was to be his +portion. He had attempted the impossible. He had offered himself in +vain; and any further sacrifice could only end in the same way. If Bobby +Duncannon were indeed dead, his task was done; but he had felt so +assured that he still lived that he could not bring himself to expel the +belief. It was the lack of knowledge that he could not endure, the +thought of returning to the woman he loved empty-handed, of seeing once +more the soul-hunger in her eyes, and being unable to satisfy it.</p> + +<p>No, he could not face it. He would have to go back, even though it meant +to his destruction, unless this Mad Prophet could furnish him with proof +incontestable of young Duncannon's death. He glanced with impatience +towards the entrance. Why did the man delay?</p> + +<p>He supposed the fellow would want <i>backsheesh</i>, and that thought sent +him searching among his tattered clothing for his pocket-book. He found +it with relief; and then again physical weakness asserted itself, and he +leaned back with closed eyes. His shoulder was throbbing with a fiery +pain. He wondered if Hassan knew how to treat it. If not, things would +probably get serious.</p> + +<p>The buzzing of a multitude of flies distracted his thoughts from this, +and he began to long ardently for a smoke. He roused himself to hunt for +his cigarette-case; but he sought in vain and finally desisted with a +groan.</p> + +<p>It was at this point that the tent-flap was drawn aside, admitting for a +moment the marvellous orange glow of the sinking sun, and a man attired +as an Arab came noiselessly in.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Penalty_VII'></a><h2>VII</h2> +<br /> + +<p>Herne lay quite still, regarding his visitor with critical eyes.</p> + +<p>The latter stood with his back to the western glow. His face was more +than half concealed by one end of his turban. He made no advance, but +stood like a brazen image, motionless, inscrutable, seeming scarcely +aware of the Englishman's presence.</p> + +<p>It was Herne who broke the silence. The light was failing very rapidly. +He raised his voice with a touch of impatience.</p> + +<p>"Hassan, where are you?"</p> + +<p>At that the stranger moved, as one coming out of a deep reverie.</p> + +<p>"There is no need to call your servant," he said, halting slightly over +the words. "I speak your language."</p> + +<p>Herne opened his eyes in surprise. He knew that many of the Wandis had +come in contact with Englishmen, but few of them could be said to have a +knowledge of the language. He saw at a glance that the man before him +was no ordinary Wandi warrior. His build was too insignificant, more +suggestive of the Arab than the negro. His hands were like the hands of +an Egyptian mummy, dark of hue and incredibly bony. He wished he could +see the fellow's face. Hassan's description had fired his curiosity.</p> + +<p>"So," he said, "you speak English, do you? I am glad to hear it. And you +are the Mullah of Wanda, the man who saved my life?"</p> + +<p>He received no reply whatever from the man in the doorway. It was as if +he had not spoken.</p> + +<p>Herne frowned. It seemed likely to be an unsatisfactory interview after +all. But just as he was about to launch upon a fresh attempt, the man +spoke, in a slow, deep voice that was not without a certain richness of +tone.</p> + +<p>"You came to Wanda—my prisoner," he said. "You left because I do not +kill white men, and they are not good slaves. But if you return to Wanda +you will die. Therefore be wise, and go back to your people, as I go to +mine!"</p> + +<p>Herne raised himself to a sitting position. His shoulder was beginning +to hurt him intolerably, but he strove desperately to keep it in the +background of his consciousness.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you kill white men?" he said.</p> + +<p>But the question was treated with a silence that felt contemptuous.</p> + +<p>The glow without was fading swiftly, and the darkness was creeping up +like a curtain over the desert. The weird figure standing upright +against the door-flap seemed to take on a deeper mystery, a silence more +unfathomable.</p> + +<p>Herne began to feel as if he were in a dream. If the man had not spoken +he would have wondered if his very presence were but hallucination.</p> + +<p>He gathered his wits for another effort.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he said, "do you never use white men as slaves?"</p> + +<p>Still that uncompromising silence.</p> + +<p>Herne persevered.</p> + +<p>"Three years ago, before the Wandis conquered the Zambas, there was a +white man, an Englishman, who placed himself at their head, and taught +them to fight. I am here to seek him. I shall not leave without news of +him."</p> + +<p>"The Englishman is dead!" It was as if a mummy uttered the words. The +speaker neither stirred nor looked at Herne. He seemed to be gazing into +space.</p> + +<p>Herne waited for more, but none came.</p> + +<p>"I want proof of his death," he said, speaking very deliberately. "I +must know beyond all doubt when and how he died."</p> + +<p>"The Englishman was burned with the other captives," the slow, +indifferent voice went on. "He died in the fire!"</p> + +<p>"What?" said Herne, with violence. "You devil! I don't believe it! I +thought you did not kill white men!"</p> + +<p>"He was not as other white men," came the unmoved reply. "The Wandis +feared his magic. Fire alone can destroy magic. He died slowly but—he +died!"</p> + +<p>"You devil!" Herne said again.</p> + +<p>His hand was fumbling feverishly at his bandaged shoulder. He scarcely +knew what he was doing. In his impotent fury he sought only for freedom, +not caring how he obtained it. Never in the whole of his life had he +longed so overpoweringly to crush a man's throat between his hands.</p> + +<p>But his strength was unequal to the effort. He sank back, gasping, +half-fainting, yet struggling fiercely against his weakness. Suddenly he +was aware of the blood welling up to his injured shoulder. He knew in an +instant that the wound had burst out afresh; knew, too, that the bandage +would be of no avail to check the flow.</p> + +<p>"Fetch Hassan!" he jerked out.</p> + +<p>But the man before him made no movement to obey.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to stand by, you infernal fiend, and watch me die?" Herne +flung at him.</p> + +<p>A thick mist was beginning to obscure his vision, but it seemed to him +that those last words of his took effect. Undoubtedly the man moved, +came nearer, stooped over him.</p> + +<p>"Go!" Herne gasped. "Go!"</p> + +<p>He could feel the blood soaking through the bandage under his hand, +spreading farther every instant.</p> + +<p>This was to be the end, then, to lie at the mercy of this madman till +death came to blot out all his efforts, all his hopes. He made a last +feeble effort to stanch that deadly flow, failed, sank down exhausted.</p> + +<p>It was then that a voice came to him out of the gathering darkness, +quick and urgent, speaking to him, as it were, across the gulf of years:</p> + +<p>"Monty, Monty, lie still, man! I'll see to you!"</p> + +<p>That voice recalled Herne, renewed his failing faculties, galvanized him +into life. The man with the mummy's hands was bending over him, +stripping away the useless bandage, fashioning it anew for the moment's +emergency. In a few seconds he was working at it with pitiless strength, +twisting and twisting again till the tension told, and Herne forced back +a groan.</p> + +<p>But he clung to consciousness with all his quivering strength, +bewildered, unbelieving still, yet hovering on the edge of conviction.</p> + +<p>"Is it really you, Bobby?" he whispered. "I can't believe it! Let me +look at you! Let me see for myself!"</p> + +<p>The man beside him made no answer. He had snatched up the first thing he +could find, a fragment of a broken tent-peg, to tighten the pressure +upon the wound.</p> + +<p>But, as if in response to Herne's appeal, he freed one hand momentarily, +and pushed back the covering from his face. And in the dim light Herne +looked, looked closely; then shut his eyes and sank back with an +uncontrollable shudder.</p> + +<p>"Merciful Heaven!" he said.</p> + +<br /> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Penalty_VIII'></a><h2>VIII</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Monty, I say! Monty!"</p> + +<p>Again the gulf of years was bridged; again the voice he knew came down +to him. Herne wrestled with himself, and opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>The man in Arab dress was still kneeling by his side, the skeleton hands +still supported him, but the face was veiled again.</p> + +<p>He suppressed another violent shudder.</p> + +<p>"In Heaven's name," he said, "what are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am a dead man," came the answer. "Don't move! I will call your man in +a moment, but I must speak to you first. Do you feel all right?"</p> + +<p>"Bobby!" Herne said.</p> + +<p>"No, I am not Bobby. He died, you know, ages ago. They cut him up and +burned him. Don't move. I have stopped the bleeding, but it will easily +start again. Lean back—so! You needn't look at me. You will never see +me again. But if I hadn't shown you—once, you would never have +understood. Are you comfortable? Can you listen?"</p> + +<p>"Bobby!" Herne said again.</p> + +<p>He seemed incapable of anything but that one word, spoken over and over, +as though trying to make himself believe the incredible.</p> + +<p>"I am not Bobby," the voice reiterated. "Put that out of your mind for +ever! He belonged to another life, another world. Don't you believe me? +Must I show you—again? Do you really want to talk with me face to +face?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Herne said, with abrupt resolution. "I will see you—talk with +you—as you are."</p> + +<p>There was a brief pause, and he braced himself to face, without +blenching, the thing that a moment before, his soldier's training +notwithstanding, had turned him sick with horror. But he was spared the +ordeal.</p> + +<p>"There is no need," said the familiar voice. "You have seen enough. I +don't want to haunt you, even though I am dead. What put it into your +head to come in search of me? You must have known I should be long past +any help from you."</p> + +<p>"I—wanted to know," Herne said. He was feeling curiously helpless, as +if, in truth, he were talking with a mummy. All the questions he desired +to put remained unuttered. He was confronted with the impossible, and he +was powerless to deal with it.</p> + +<p>"What did you want to know? How I died? And when? It was a thousand +years ago, when those damned Wandis swallowed up the Zambas. They took +me first—by treachery. Then they wiped out the entire tribe. The poor +devils were lost without me. I always knew they would be—but they made +a gallant fight for it." A thrill of feeling crept into the monotonous +voice, a tinge of the old abounding pride, but it was gone on the +instant, as if it had not been. "They slaughtered them all in the end," +came in level, dispassionate tones, "and, last of all, they killed me. +It was a slow process, but very complete. I needn't harrow your +feelings. Only be quite sure I am dead! The thing that used to be my +body was turned into an abomination that no sane creature could look +upon without a shudder. And as for my soul, devils took possession, so +that even the Wandis were afraid. They dare not touch me now. I have +trampled them, I have tortured them, I have killed them. They fly from +me like sheep. Yet, if I lead, they follow. They think, because I have +conquered them, that I am invincible, invulnerable, immortal. They +cringe before me as if I were a god. They would offer me human sacrifice +if I would have it. I am their talisman, their mascot, their safeguard +from defeat, their luck—a dead man, Herne, a dead man! Can't you see +the joke? Why don't you laugh?"</p> + +<p>Again the grim voice thrilled as if some fiendish mirth stirred it to +life.</p> + +<p>Herne moved and groaned, but spoke no word.</p> + +<p>"What? You don't see it? You never had much sense of humour. And yet +it's a good thing to laugh when you can. We savages don't know how to +laugh. We only yell. That is all you wanted to know, is it? You will go +back now with an easy mind?"</p> + +<p>"As if that could be all!" Herne muttered.</p> + +<p>"That is all. And count yourself lucky that I haven't killed you. It was +touch and go that night you attacked me. You may die yet."</p> + +<p>"I may. But it won't be your fault if I do. Great Heaven, I might have +killed you!"</p> + +<p>"So you might." Again came that quiver of dreadful laughter. "That would +have been the end of the story for everyone, for you wouldn't have got +away without me. But that was no part of the program. Even you couldn't +kill a dead man. Feel that, if you don't believe me!" Suddenly one of +the shrivelled, mummy hands came down to his own. "How much life is +there in that?"</p> + +<p>Herne gripped the hand. It was cold and clammy; he could feel every +separate bone under the skin. He could almost hear them grind together +in his hold. He repressed another shudder; and even as he did it, he +heard again the bitter cry of a woman's wrung heart, "Bobby is still +alive and wanting me."</p> + +<p>Would she say that when she knew? Would she still reach out her hands to +this monstrous wreck of humanity, this shattered ruin of what had once +been a tower of splendid strength? Would she feel bound to offer +herself? Was her love sufficient to compass such a sacrifice? The bare +thought revolted him.</p> + +<p>"Are you satisfied?" asked the voice that seemed to him like a mocking +echo of Bobby's ardent tones. "Why don't you speak?"</p> + +<p>A great struggle was going on in Herne's soul. For Betty's sake—for +Betty's sake—should he hold his peace? Should he take upon himself a +responsibility that was not his? Should he deny this man the chance that +was his by right—the awful chance—of returning to her? The temptation +urged him strongly; the fight was fierce. But—was it because he still +grasped that bony hand?—he conquered in the end.</p> + +<p>"I haven't told you yet why I came to look for you," he said.</p> + +<p>"Is it worth while?" The question was peculiarly deliberate, yet not +wholly cynical.</p> + +<p>Desperately Herne compelled himself to answer.</p> + +<p>"You have got to know it, seeing it was not for my own +satisfaction—primarily—that I came."</p> + +<p>"Why then?" The brief query held scant interest; but the hand he still +grasped stirred ever so slightly in his.</p> + +<p>Herne set his teeth.</p> + +<p>"Because—someone—wanted you."</p> + +<p>"No one ever wanted me," said the Wandi Mullah curtly.</p> + +<p>But Herne had tackled his task, and he pursued it unflinching.</p> + +<p>"I came for the sake of a woman who once—long ago—refused to marry +you, but who has been waiting for you—ever since."</p> + +<p>"A woman?" Undoubtedly there was a savage note in the words. The +shrunken fingers clenched upon Herne's hand.</p> + +<p>"Betty Derwent," said Herne very quietly.</p> + +<p>Dead silence fell in the darkened tent—the silence of the desert, +subtle, intense, in a fashion terrible. It lasted for a long time; so +long a time that Herne suffered himself at last to relax, feeling the +strain to be more than he could bear. He leaned among his pillows, and +waited. Yet still, persistently, he grasped that cold, sinuous hand, +though the very touch of it repelled him, as the touch of a reptile +provokes instinctive loathing. It lay quite passive in his own, a thing +inanimate, yet horribly possessed of life.</p> + +<p>Slowly at last through the darkness a voice came:</p> + +<p>"Monty!"</p> + +<p>It was hardly more than a whisper; yet on the instant, as if by magic, +all Herne's repulsion, his involuntary, irrepressible shrinking, was +gone. He was back once more on the other side of the gulf, and the hand +he held was the hand of a friend.</p> + +<p>"My dear old chap!" he said very gently.</p> + +<p>Vaguely he discerned the figure by his side. It sat huddled, mummy-like +but it held no horrors for him any longer. They were not face to face +in that moment—they were soul to soul.</p> + +<p>"I say—Monty," stumblingly came the words, "you know—I never dreamed +of this. I thought she would have married—long ago. And she has been +waiting—all these years?"</p> + +<p>"All these years," Herne said.</p> + +<p>"Do you think she has suffered?" There was a certain sharpness in the +question, as if it were hard to utter.</p> + +<p>And Herne, pledged to honesty, made brief reply:</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>There followed a pause; then:</p> + +<p>"Will it grieve her—very badly—to know that I am dead?" asked the +voice beside him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it will grieve her." Herne spoke as if compelled.</p> + +<p>"But she will get over it, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I believe so." Herne's lips were dry; he forced them to utterance.</p> + +<p>The free hand fastened claw-like upon his arm.</p> + +<p>"You'll tell me the straight truth, man," said Bobby's voice in his ear. +"What if I—came to life?"</p> + +<p>But Herne was silent. He could not bring himself to answer.</p> + +<p>"Speak out!" urged the voice—Bobby's voice, quick, insistent, even +imploring. "Don't be afraid! I haven't any feelings left worth +considering. She wouldn't get over that, you think? No woman could!"</p> + +<p>Herne turned in desperation, and faced his questioner.</p> + +<p>"God knows!" he said helplessly.</p> + +<p>Again there fell a silence, such a silence as falls in a death-chamber +at the moment of the spirit's passing. The darkness was deepening. Herne +could scarcely discern the figure by his side.</p> + +<p>The hand upon his arm had grown slack. All vitality seemed to have gone +out of it. It was as though the spirit had passed indeed. And in the +stillness Herne knew that he was recrossing the gulf, that his +friend—the boy he had known and loved—was receding rapidly, rapidly +behind the veil of years, would soon be lost to him for ever.</p> + +<p>The voice that spoke to him at length was the voice of a stranger.</p> + +<p>"Remember," it said, "Bobby Duncannon is dead—has been dead for years! +Let no woman waste her life waiting for him, for he will never return! +Let her marry instead the man who wants her, and put the empty years +behind! In no other way will she find happiness."</p> + +<p>"But you?" Herne groaned. "You?"</p> + +<p>The hand he held had slipped from his grasp. Through the dimness he saw +the man beside him rise to his feet. A moment he stood; then flung up +his arms above his head in a fierce gesture of renunciation that sent a +stab of recollection through Herne.</p> + +<p>"I! I go to my people!" said the Prophet of the Wandis. "And you—will +go to yours."</p> + +<p>It was final, and Herne knew it; yet his heart cried out within him for +the friend he had lost. Suddenly he found he could not bear it.</p> + +<p>"Bobby! Bobby!" he burst forth impulsively. "Stop, man, stop and think! +There must be some other way. You can't—you shan't—go back!"</p> + +<p>He hardly knew what he said, so great was his distress. The gulf was +widening, widening, and he was powerless. He knew that it could never be +bridged again.</p> + +<p>"It's too big a forfeit," he urged very earnestly. "You can't do it. I +won't suffer it. For Betty's sake—Bobby, come back!"</p> + +<p>And then, for the last time, he heard his friend's voice across the +ever-widening gulf.</p> + +<p>"For Betty's sake, old chap, I am a dead man. Remember that! It's you +who must go back to her. Marry her, love her, make her—forget!"</p> + +<p>For an instant those mummy hands rested upon him, held him, caressed +him; it was almost as if they blessed him. For an instant the veil was +lifted; they were comrades together. Then it fell....</p> + +<p>There came a quiet movement, the sound of departing feet.</p> + +<p>Herne turned and blindly searched the darkness. Across the gulf he cried +to his friend to return to him.</p> + +<p>"Bobby, come back, lad, come back! We'll find some other way."</p> + +<p>But there came no voice in answer, no sound of any sort. The desert had +received back its secret. He was alone....</p> + +<br /> + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='Penalty_IX'></a><h2>IX</h2> +<br /> + +<p>"Now, don't bother any more about me!" commanded Betty Derwent, +establishing herself with an air of finality on the edge of the trout +stream to which she had just suffered herself to be conducted by her +companion. "I am quite capable of baiting my own hook if necessary. You +run along up-stream and have some sport on your own account!"</p> + +<p>The companion, a very young college man, looked decidedly blank over +this kindly dismissal. He had been manoeuvring to get Betty all to +himself for days, but, since everybody seemed to want her, it had been +no easy matter. And now, to his disgust, just as he was congratulating +himself upon having gained his end and secured a <i>tête-à-tête</i> that, +with luck, might last for hours, he was coolly told to run along and +amuse himself while she fished in solitude.</p> + +<p>"I say, you know," he protested, "that's rather hard lines."</p> + +<p>"Don't be absurd!" said Betty. "I came out to catch fish, not to talk. +And you are going to do the same."</p> + +<p>"Oh, confound the fish!" said the luckless one.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, he yielded, seeing that it was expected of him, and took +himself off, albeit reluctantly.</p> + +<p>Betty watched him go, with a faint smile. He was a nice boy undoubtedly, +but she much preferred him at a distance.</p> + +<p>She sat down on the bank above the trout-stream, and took a letter from +her pocket. It had reached her the previous day, and she had already +read it many times. This fact, however, did not deter her from reading +it yet again, her chin upon her hand. It was not a lengthy epistle.</p> + +<div class='blkquot'><p>"DEAR BETTY," it said, "I am back from my wanderings, and I + am coming straight to you; but I want you to get this letter + first, in time to stop me, if you feel so inclined. It is + useless for me to attempt to soften what I have to say. I + can only put it briefly, just because I know—too well—what + it will mean to you. Betty, the boy is dead, has been dead + for years. How he died and exactly when, I do not know; but + I have certified the fact of his death beyond all question. + He died at the hands of the Wandis, when his own men, the + Zambas, were defeated. So much I heard from the Wandi Mullah + himself, and more than that I cannot tell you. My dear, that + is the end of your romance, and I know that you will never + weave another. But, that notwithstanding, I am coming—now, + if you will have me—later, if you desire it—to claim you + for myself. Your happiness always has and always will come + first with me, and neither now nor hereafter shall I ever + ask of you more than you are disposed to give.—Ever yours," </p></div> + +<span style='margin-left: 23.5em;'>"MONTAGUE HERNE."</span><br /> + +<p>Very slowly Betty's eyes travelled over the paper. She read right to the +end, and then suffered her eyes to rest for a long time upon the +signature. Her fishing-rod lay forgotten on the ground beside her. She +seemed to be thinking deeply.</p> + +<p>Once, rather suddenly, she moved to look at the watch on her wrist. It +was drawing towards noon. She had sent no message to delay him. Would he +have travelled by the night train? But she dismissed that conjecture as +unlikely. Herne was not a man to do anything headlong. He would give her +ample time. She almost wished—she checked the sigh that rose to her +lips. No, it was better as it was. A man's ardour was different from a +boy's; and she—she was a girl no longer. Her romance was dead.</p> + +<p>A slight sound beside her, a footstep on the grass! She turned, looked, +sprang to her feet. The vivid colour rushed up over her face.</p> + +<p>"You!" she gasped, almost inarticulately.</p> + +<p>He had come by the night train after all.</p> + +<p>He came up to her quite quietly, with that leisureliness of gait that +she remembered so well.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you expect me?" he said.</p> + +<p>She held out a hand that trembled.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I—I knew you would come; only, you see, I hardly thought you +would get here so soon."</p> + +<p>"But you meant me to come?" he said.</p> + +<p>His hand held hers closely, warmly, reassuringly. He looked into her +face.</p> + +<p>For a few seconds she evaded the look with a shyness beyond her control; +then resolutely she mastered herself and met his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I meant you to come. I am glad you are back. I—" She broke off +suddenly, gazing at him in consternation. "Monty," she exclaimed, "you +never told me you had been ill!"</p> + +<p>He smiled at that, and her agitation began to subside.</p> + +<p>"I am well again, Betty," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you don't look it," she protested. "You look—you look as if +you had suffered—horribly. Have you?"</p> + +<p>He passed the question by. "At least, I have managed to come back +again," he said, "as I promised."</p> + +<p>"I—I am thankful to see you again," she faltered her shyness returning +upon her. "I've been—desperately anxious."</p> + +<p>"On my account?" said Herne.</p> + +<p>She bent her head. "Yes."</p> + +<p>"Lest I shouldn't come back?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said again.</p> + +<p>"But I told you I should," He was still holding her hand, trying to read +her downcast face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I knew you would if you could," said Betty. "Only—I couldn't help +thinking—of what you said about—about sacrificing substance +to—shadow. It—was very wrong of me to send you."</p> + +<p>She spoke unevenly, with obvious effort. She seemed determined that he +should not have that glimpse into her soul which he so evidently +desired.</p> + +<p>"My dear Betty," he said, "I went on my own account as much as on yours. +I think you forget that. Or are you remembering—and regretting—it?"</p> + +<p>She had begun to tremble. He laid a steadying hand upon her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"No," she said faintly. Then swiftly, impulsively, she raised her face. +"Major Herne, I—I want to tell you something—before you say any more."</p> + +<p>"What is it, Betty?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Just this," she made answer, speaking very quickly. "I—I am not good +enough for you. I haven't been—straight with you. I've been realizing +it more and more ever since you went away. I—I'm quite despicable. I've +been miserable about it—wretched—all the time you have been away."</p> + +<p>Herne's face changed. A certain grimness came into it.</p> + +<p>"But, my dear girl," he said, "you never pretended to be in love with +me."</p> + +<p>She drew a sharp breath of distress.</p> + +<p>"I know," she said. "I know. And I let you go to that dreadful place, +though I knew—before you went—that, whatever happened, it could make +no difference to me. But I hadn't the courage to tell you the truth. +After what passed between us that night, I felt—I couldn't. And so—and +so—I let you go, even though I knew I was deceiving you. Oh, do forgive +me if you can! I've had my punishment. I have been nearly mad with +anxiety lest any harm should come to you."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I ought to be grateful for that," Herne said. He still looked +grim, but there was no anger about him. He had taken his hand from her +shoulder, but he still held her trembling fingers in his quiet grasp. +"Don't fret!" he said. "Where's the use? I shall get over it somehow. If +you are quite sure you know your own mind, there is no more to be said." +He spoke with no shadow of emotion. His eyes looked into hers with +absolute steadiness. He even, after a moment, very faintly smiled. +"Except good-bye!" he said. "And perhaps the sooner I say that the +better."</p> + +<p>But at this point Betty broke in upon him breathlessly, almost +incoherently.</p> + +<p>"Major Herne, I—I don't understand. You—you can say good-bye, of +course—if you wish. But—it will be by your own choice if you do."</p> + +<p>"What?" he said.</p> + +<p>She snatched her hand suddenly from him.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you mean to punish me, to make me pay for my—idiocy. +You—you think—"</p> + +<p>"I think that either you or I must be mad," said Herne.</p> + +<p>"Then it's you!" flung back Betty half hysterically. "To imagine for one +moment that I—that I meant—that!"</p> + +<p>"Meant what?" A sudden note of sternness made itself heard in Herne's +voice. He moved a step forward, and took her shoulders between his +hands, looking at her closely, unsparingly. "Betty," he said, "let us at +least understand one another! Tell me what you meant just now!"</p> + +<p>She faced him defiantly</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean anything."</p> + +<p>He passed that by.</p> + +<p>"Why did you ask my forgiveness?"</p> + +<p>She made a sharp gesture of repudiation.</p> + +<p>"What was there to forgive?" he insisted.</p> + +<p>"I—I am not going to tell you," said Betty, with great distinctness.</p> + +<p>Again he overlooked her open defiance.</p> + +<p>"You are afraid. Why?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not!" said Betty almost fiercely.</p> + +<p>"You are afraid," he repeated deliberately, "afraid of my finding +out—something. Betty, look at me!"</p> + +<p>Her face was scarlet. She turned it swiftly from him.</p> + +<p>"Let me go!"</p> + +<p>"Look at me!" he repeated.</p> + +<p>She began to pant. She was quivering between his hands like a wild thing +caught. "Major Herne, it isn't fair of you! Let me go!"</p> + +<p>"Never, Betty!" He spoke with sudden decision; but all the grimness had +gone from his face. "You may as well give in, for I have you at my +mercy. And I will be merciful if you do, but not otherwise."</p> + +<p>"How dare you?" gasped Betty almost inarticulately.</p> + +<p>"I dare do many things," said Montague Herne, with a smile that was not +all mirthful. "How long have you left off crying for the moon? Tell me!"</p> + +<p>"I won't tell you anything!" protested Betty.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you will. I have got to know it. If you will only give in like a +wise woman, you will find it much easier."</p> + +<p>His voice held persuasion this time. For a little she made as if she +would continue to resist him; then impulsively she yielded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Monty!" she said, with a sob; and the next moment was in his arms.</p> + +<p>He held her close.</p> + +<p>"Come!" he said. "You can tell me now."</p> + +<p>"I—don't know," whispered Betty, her face hidden. "You—frightened me +by being so ready to go away again. I couldn't help wondering if it had +been just kindness that prompted you to come to me. It—I suppose it +wasn't?" A startled note of interrogation sounded in her voice. She was +trembling still.</p> + +<p>"Betty, Betty!" he said.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me!" she whispered back, "You see, I couldn't have endured +that, because I—love you. No, wait; I haven't finished. I want you to +know the truth. I've been sacrificing substance to shadow, reality to +dreams, all my life—all my life. But that night—the night I took you +into my confidence—you opened my eyes. I began to see what I was doing. +But I hadn't the courage to tell you so, and it seemed not quite fair to +Bobby so I held my peace.</p> + +<p>"I let you go. But I knew—I knew before you went—that even if you +found him, even if you brought him back, even if he cared for me still, +I should have nothing to give him. My feeling for him was just a dream +from which I had awakened. Oh, Monty, I was yours even then; and I kept +it back. That was why I wanted your forgiveness."</p> + +<p>Breathlessly she ended, and in silence he heard her out. He was holding +her very closely to him, but his eyes looked beyond her, as though they +searched a far horizon.</p> + +<p>"Do you understand?" whispered Betty at last.</p> + +<p>He moved, and the look in his eyes changed. It was as if the horizon +narrowed.</p> + +<p>"I understand," he said.</p> + +<p>She lifted her face, with a gesture half shy, half confiding.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to forgive me, Monty? I—I've paid a big price for my +foolishness—bigger than you will ever know. I kept asking +myself—asking myself—whatever I should do if you—if you brought him +back."</p> + +<p>"Poor child!" he said. "Poor little Betty!"</p> + +<p>She clung to him suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, wasn't I an idiot? And yet, somehow, I feel so treacherous. +Monty—Monty, you're sure he is dead?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is dead," said Herne deliberately.</p> + +<p>She drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>"I'm so thankful he never knew!" she said. "I—I don't suppose he really +cared, do you? Not enough to spoil his life?"</p> + +<p>"God knows!" said Montague Herne very gravely.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Hullo!" said Betty's fellow-sportsman, making his appearance some time +later. "Getting on for grub-time, eh? How have you got on? Why, I +thought you came out to fish, and not to talk! Who on earth——"</p> + +<p>"My <i>fiancé</i>," said Betty quickly.</p> + +<p>"Your—Hullo! Why, it's Major Herne! Delighted to see you! Had no idea +you were in this country. Thought you were hunting big game somewhere in +Africa."</p> + +<p>"I was," said Herne. "I—had no luck. So I came home."</p> + +<p>"Where—presumably—you found it! Congratulations! Betty, I'm pleased!"</p> + +<p>"How nice of you!" said Betty.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is rather, all things considered. How ever, I suppose even I +must regard it as a blessing in disguise. Perhaps, when you are +married, you will kindly leave off breaking all our hearts for nothing!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you will leave off being so foolish as to let them be broken," +returned Betty, with spirit.</p> + +<p>"Ah, perhaps! Not very likely though I fear. Hearts are tender +things—eh, Major Herne? And when someone like Betty comes along there +is sure to be some damage done. It's the penalty we have to pay for +being only human."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, you soon get over it," said Betty quickly.</p> + +<p>"How do you know that? I may perhaps, if I'm lucky; but there are +exceptions to every rule. Some of us go on paying the penalty all our +lives."</p> + +<p>A moment's silence followed the light words. Betty apparently had +nothing to say.</p> + +<p>And then: "And some of us don't even know the meaning of the word!" said +Montague Herne.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSA MUNDI AND OTHER STORIES***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 13774-h.txt or 13774-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/7/7/13774">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/7/7/13774</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. 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. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution.</p> + + + +<pre> +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +<a href="https://gutenberg.org/license">https://gutenberg.org/license)</a>. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: +https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">https://www.gutenberg.org</a> + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a> + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. 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/13774-h/images/002.jpg b/old/13774-h/images/002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad1904c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13774-h/images/002.jpg diff --git a/old/13774-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/13774-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2b37e3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13774-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/old/13774.txt b/old/13774.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..70eeb16 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13774.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12508 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Rosa Mundi and Other Stories, by Ethel M. Dell + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Rosa Mundi and Other Stories + +Author: Ethel M. Dell + +Release Date: October 17, 2004 [eBook #13774] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSA MUNDI AND OTHER STORIES*** + + +E-text prepared by Audrey Longhurst, Gregory Smith, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +ROSA MUNDI AND OTHER STORIES + +by + +ETHEL M. DELL + +Author of _The Bars of Iron_, _The Keeper of the Door_, _The Knave of +Diamonds_, _The Obstacle Race_, _The Rocks of Valpre_, _The Way of an +Eagle_, etc. + + + + + + + +CONTENTS + + +ROSA MUNDI + +A DEBT OF HONOUR + I.--HOPE AND THE MAGICIAN + II.--THE VISITOR + III.--THE FRIEND IN NEED + IV.--HER NATURAL PROTECTOR + V.--MORE THAN A FRIEND + VI.--HER ENEMY + VII.--THE SCRAPE + VIII.--BEFORE THE RACE + IX.--THE RACE + X.--THE ENEMY'S TERMS + XI.--WITHOUT DEFENCE + XII.--THE PENALTY + XIII.--THE CURSE OF THE VALLEY + XIV.--HOW THE TALE WAS TOLD + XV.--THE NIGHT OF DESPAIR + XVI.--THE COMING OF HOPE + +THE DELIVERER + I.--A PROMISE OF MARRIAGE + II.--A RING OF VALUE + III.--THE HONEYMOON + IV.--A GRIEVOUS WOUND + V.--A STRUGGLE FOR MASTERY + VI.--AN OFFER OF HELP + VII.--THE DELIVERER + VIII.--AFTER THE ACCIDENT + IX.--THE END OF A MYSTERY + X.--TAKEN TO TASK + XI.--MONEY'S NOT EVERYTHING + XII.--AFTERWARDS--LOVE + +THE PREY OF THE DRAGON + +THE SECRET SERVICE MAN + I.--A TIGHT PLACE + II.--A BROKEN FRIENDSHIP + III.--DERRICK'S PARADISE + IV.--CARLYON DEFENDS HIMSELF + V.--A WOMAN'S FORGIVENESS + VI.--FIEND OR KING? + VII.--THE REAL COLONEL CARLYON + VIII.--THE STRANGER ON THE VERANDA + IX.--A FIGHT IN THE NIGHT + X.--SAVED A SECOND TIME + XI.--THE SECRET OUT + +THE PENALTY + + + + + + +Rosa Mundi + + +Was the water blue, or was it purple that day? Randal Courteney +stretched his lazy length on the shady side of the great natural +breakwater that protected Hurley Bay from the Atlantic rollers, and +wondered. It was a day in late September, but the warmth of it was as a +dream of summer returned. The season was nearly over, or he had not +betaken himself thither, but the spell of heat had prolonged it unduly. +It had been something of a shock to him to find the place still occupied +by a buzzing crowd of visitors. He never came to it till he judged the +holidays to be practically over. For he loved it only when empty. His +idea of rest was solitude. + +He wondered how long this pearly weather would last, and scanned the sky +for a cloud. In vain! There was no cloud all round that blue horizon, +and behind him the cliffs stood stark against an azure sky. Summer was +lingering, and even he had not the heart to wish her gone. + +Something splashed noisily on the other side of the rocky breakwater. +Something squeaked and gurgled. The man frowned. He had tramped a +considerable distance to secure privacy. He had his new novel to think +out. This invasion was intolerable. He had not even smoked the first +pipe of his meditations. Impatiently he prepared to rise and depart. + +But in that moment a voice accosted him, and in spite of himself he +paused. "I want to get over the breakwater," said the voice. "There's +such a large crab lives this side." + +It was an engaging voice--a voice with soft, lilting notes in it--the +voice of a child. + +Courteney's face cleared a little. The grimness went out of his frown, +the reluctance from his attitude. He stood up against the rocky barrier +and stretched his hands over to the unseen owner of the voice. + +"I'll help you," he said. + +"Oh!" There was an instant's pause; then two other hands, wet, cool, +slender, came up, clasping his. A little leap, a sudden strain, and a +very pink face beneath a cloud of golden hair laughed down into his. +"You must pull," she said; "pull hard!" + +Courteney obeyed instructions. He pulled, and a pair of slim shoulders +clad in white, with a blue sailor collar, came into view. He pulled +again, and a white knee appeared, just escaping a blue serge skirt. At +the third pull she was over and standing, bare-footed, by his side. It +had been a fairy leap. He marvelled at the lightness of her till he saw +her standing so, with merry eyes upraised to his. Then he laughed, for +she was laughing--the infectious laugh of the truant. + +"Oh, thank you ever so much," she said. "I knew it was much nicer this +side than the other. No one can see us here, either." + +"Is that why you wanted to get over?" he asked. + +She nodded, her pink face all mystery. "It's nice to get away from +everyone sometimes, isn't it? Even Rosa Mundi thinks that. Did you know +that she is here? It is being kept a dead secret." + +"Rosa Mundi!" Courteney started. He looked down into the innocent face +upraised to his with something that was almost horror in his own. "Do +you mean that dancing woman from Australia? What can a child like you +know of her?" + +She smiled at him, the mystery still in her eyes. "I do know her. I +belong to her. Do you know her, too?" + +A sudden hot flush went up over Courteney's face. He knew the woman; +yes, he knew her. Was it years ago--or was it but yesterday?--that he +had yielded to the importunities of his friend, young Eric Baron, and +gone to see her dance? The boy had been infatuated, wild with the lure +of her. Ah well, it was over now. She had been his ruin, just as she had +been the ruin of others like him. Baron was dead and free for ever from +the evil spell of his enchantress. But he had not thought to hear her +name in this place and on the lips of a child. + +It revolted him. For she had utterly failed to attract his fancy. He +was fastidious, and all he had seen in her had been the sensuous charm +of a sinuous grace which, to him, was no charm at all. He had almost +hated her for the abject adoration that young Eric's eyes had held. Her +art, wonderful though he admitted it to be, had wholly failed to enslave +him. He had looked her once--and once only--in the eyes, judged her, and +gone his way. + +And now this merry-eyed, rosy-faced child came, fairy-footed, over the +barrier of his reserve, and spoke with a careless familiarity of the +only being in the world whom he had condemned as beyond the pale. + +"I'm not supposed to tell anyone," she said, with sapphire eyes uplifted +confidingly to his. "She isn't--really--here before the end of the week. +You won't tell, will you? Only when I saw you plodding along out here by +yourself, I just had to come and tell you, to cheer you up." + +He stood and looked at her, not knowing what to say. It was as if some +adverse fate were at work, driving him, impelling him. + +The soft eyes sparkled into laughter. "I know who you are," chuckled the +gay voice on a high note of merriment. "You are Randal Courteney, the +writer. It's not a bit of good trying to hide, because everybody knows." + +He attempted a frown, but failed in its achievement. "And who are you?" +he said, looking straight into the daring, trusting eyes. She was, not +beautiful, but her eyes were wonderful; they held a mystery that +beckoned and eluded in the same subtle moment. + +"I?" she said. "I am her companion, her familiar spirit. Sometimes she +calls me her angel." + +The man moved as if something had stung him, but he checked himself with +instinctive self-control. "And your name?" he said. + +She turned out her hands with a little gesture that was utterly +unstudied and free from self-consciousness. "My name is Rosemary," she +said. "It means--remembrance." + +"You are her adopted child?" Courteney was, looking at her curiously. +Out of what part of Rosa Mundi's strange, fretted existence had the +desire for remembrance sprung to life? He had deemed her a woman of many +episodes, each forgotten as its successor took its place. Yet it seemed +this child held a corner in her memory that was to last. + +She turned her face to the sun. "We have adopted each other," she said +naively. "When Rosa Mundi is old, I shall take her place, so that she +may still be remembered." + +The words, "Heaven forbid!" were on Courteney's lips. He checked them +sharply, but something of his original grimness returned as he said, +"And now that you are on the other side of the breakwater, what are you +going to do?" + +She looked up at him speculatively, and in a moment tossed back the +short golden curls that clustered at her neck. She was sublimely young. +In the eyes of the man, newly awakened, she had the look of one who has +seen life without comprehending it. "I always like to get the other side +of things, don't you?" she said. "But I won't stay with you if you are +bored. I am going right to the end of the rocks to see the tide come +in." + +"And be washed away?" suggested Courteney. + +"Oh no," she assured him confidently. "That won't happen. I'm not nearly +so young as I look. I only dress like this when I want to enjoy myself. +Rosa Mundi says"--her eyes were suddenly merry--"that I'm not +respectable. Now, don't you think that sounds rather funny?" + +"From her--yes," said Courteney. + +"You don't like her?" The shrewd curiosity of a child who desires +understanding upon a forbidden subject was in the question. + +The man evaded it. "I have never seen her except in the limelight." + +"And you didn't like her--then?" Keen disappointment sounded in her +voice. + +His heart smote him. The child was young, though possibly not so young +as she looked. She had her ideals, and they would be shattered soon +enough without any help from him. + +With a brief laugh he turned aside, dismissing the subject. "That form +of entertainment doesn't appeal to me much," he said. "Now it's your +turn to tell me something. I have been wondering about the colour of +that sea. Would you call it blue--or purple?" + +She looked, and again the mystery was in her face. For a moment she did +not speak. Then, "It is violet," she said--"the colour of Rosa Mundi's +eyes." + +Ere the frown had died from his face she was gone, pattering lightly +over the sand, flitting like a day-dream into the blinding sunshine that +seemed to drop a veil behind her, leaving him to his thoughts. + + * * * * * + +Randal Courteney was an old and favoured guest at the Hurley Bay Hotel. +From his own particular corner of the great dining-room he was +accustomed to look out upon the world that came and went. Frequently +when he was there the place was almost deserted, and always he had been +treated as the visitor of most importance. But to-night, for the first +time, he found himself supplanted. Someone of more importance was +staying in the hotel, someone who had attracted crowds, whose popularity +amounted almost to idolatry. + +The hotel was full, but Courteney, despite his far-reaching fame, was +almost entirely overlooked. News had spread that the wonderful +Australian dancer was to perform at the Pier Pavilion at the end of the +week, and the crowds had gathered to do her honour. They were going to +strew the Pier with roses on the night of her appearance, and they were +watching even now for the first sign of her with all the eager curiosity +that marks down any celebrity as fair prey. Courteney smiled grimly to +himself. How often it had been his lot to evade the lion-hunters! It was +an unspeakable relief to have the general attention thus diverted from +himself. Doubtless Rosa Mundi would revel in it. It was her _role_ in +life, the touchstone of her profession. Adulation was the very air she +breathed. + +He wondered a little to find her seeking privacy, even for a few days. +Just a whim of hers, no doubt! Was she not ever a creature of whims? And +it would not last. He remembered how once young Eric Baron had told him +that she needed popularity as a flower needs the sun. His rose of the +world had not been created to bloom unseen. The boy had been absurdly +long-suffering, unbelievably blind. How bitter, how cruel, had been his +disillusion, Courteney could only guess. Had she ever cared, ever +regretted, he wondered? But no, he was sure she had not. She would care +for nothing until the bloom faded. Then, indeed, possibly, remorse might +come. + +Someone passing his table paused and spoke--the managing director of the +Hurley Bay Theatre and of a score of others, a man he knew slightly, +older than himself. "The hive swarms in vain," he said. "The queen +refuses to emerge." + +Courteney's expression was supremely cynical. "I was not aware that she +was of such a retiring disposition," he said. + +The other man laughed. He was an American, Ellis Grant by name, a man of +gross proportions, but keen-eyed, iron-jawed, and successful. "There is +a rumour," he said, "that she is about to be married. Possibly that +might account for her shyness." + +His look was critical. Courteney threw back his head almost with +defiance. "It doesn't interest me," he said curtly. + +Ellis Grant laughed again and passed on. He valued his acquaintanceship +with the writer. He would not jeopardize it with over-much familiarity. +But he did not believe in the utter lack of interest that he professed. +No living man who knew her could be wholly indifferent to the doings of +Rosa Mundi. The fiery charm of her, her passionate vitality, made that +impossible. + +Courteney finished his dinner and went out. The night was almost as hot +as the day had been. He turned his back on the Pier, that was lighted +from end to end, and walked away down the long parade. + +He was beginning to wish himself out of the place. He had an absurd +feeling of being caught in some web of Fate that clung to him +tenaciously, strive as he would. Grant's laugh of careless incredulity +pursued him. There had been triumph also in that laugh. No doubt the +fellow anticipated a big haul on Rosa Mundi's night. + +And again there rose before him the memory of young Eric Baron's ardent +face. "I'd marry her to-morrow if she'd have me," the boy had said to +him once. + +The boy had been a fool, but straight. The woman--well, the woman was +not the marrying sort. He was certain of that. She was elusive as a +flame. Impatiently yet again he flung the thought of her from him. What +did it matter to him? Why should he be haunted by her thus? He would not +suffer it. + +He tramped to the end of the parade and stood looking out over the dark +sea. He was sorry for that adopted child of hers. That face of innocence +rose before him clear against the gathering dark. Not much chance for +the child, it seemed! Utterly unspoilt and unsophisticated at present, +and the property of that _demi-mondaine_! He wondered if there could be +any relationship between them. There was something in the child's eyes +that in some strange fashion recalled the eyes of Rosa Mundi. So might +she once have gazed in innocence upon a world unknown. + +Again, almost savagely, he strove to thrust away the thoughts that +troubled him. The child was bound to be contaminated sooner or later; +but what was that to him? It was out of his power to deliver her. He was +no rescuer of damsels in distress. + +So he put away from him the thought of Rosa Mundi and the thought of the +child called Rosemary who had come to him out of the morning sunlight, +and went back to his hotel doggedly determined that neither the one nor +the other should disturb his peace of mind. He would take refuge in his +work, and forget them. + +But late that night he awoke from troubled sleep to hear Ellis Grant +laugh again in careless triumph--the laugh of the man who knows that he +has drawn a prize. + + * * * * * + +It was not a restful night for Randal Courteney, and in the early +morning he was out again, striding over the sunlit sands towards his own +particular bathing-cove beyond the breakwater. + +The tide was coming in, and the dashing water filled all the world with +its music. A brisk wind was blowing, and the waves were high. + +It was the sort of sea that Courteney revelled in, and he trusted that, +at that early hour, he would be free from all intrusion. So accustomed +to privacy was he that he had come to regard the place almost as his +own. + +But as he topped the breakwater he came upon a sight that made him draw +back in disgust. A white mackintosh lay under a handful of stones upon +the shingly beach. He surveyed it suspiciously, with the air of a man +who fears that he is about to walk into a trap. + +Then, his eyes travelling seaward, he spied a red cap bobbing up and +down in the spray of the dancing waves. + +The impulse to turn and retrace his steps came to him, but some unknown +force restrained him. He remembered suddenly the current that had more +than once drawn him out of his course when bathing in those waters, and +the owner of the red cap was alone. He stood, uncertain, on the top of +the breakwater, and watched. + +Two minutes later the very event he had pictured was taking place under +his eyes, and he was racing over the soft sand below the shingle at the +top of his speed. Two arms were beating wildly out in the shining +sparkle of water, as though they strove against the invisible bars of a +cage, and a voice--the high, frightened voice of a child--was calling +for help. + +He flung off his coat as he ran, and dashed without an instant's pause +straight into the green foaming waves. The water swirled around him as +he struck out; he clove his way through it, all his energies +concentrated upon the bobbing red cap and struggling arms ahead of him. +Lifted on the crest of a rushing wave, he saw her, helpless as an infant +in the turmoil. Her terrified eyes were turned his way, wildly +beseeching him. He fought with the water to reach her. + +He realized as he drew nearer that she was not wholly inexperienced. She +was working against the current to keep herself up, but no longer +striving to escape it. He saw with relief that she had not lost her +head. + +He had been prepared to approach her with caution, but she sent him a +sudden, brave smile that reassured him. + +"Be quick!" she gasped. "I'm nearly done." + +The current caught him, but with a powerful stroke or two he righted his +course and reached her. Her hand closed upon his shoulder. + +"I'm all right now," she panted, and despite the distress of her +breathing, he caught the note of confidence in her voice. + +"We've got to get out of it," he made grim answer. "Get your hand in my +belt; that'll help you best. Then, when you're ready, strike out with +the other and make for the open sea! We shall get out of this infernal +current that way." + +She obeyed him implicitly, asking no question. Side by side they drew +out of the current, the man pulling strongly, his companion seconding +his efforts with a fitfulness that testified to her failing powers. They +reached calmer water at length, and then curtly he ordered her to turn +on her back and rest. + +Again without a word she obeyed him, and he floated beside her, +supporting her. The early sun smote down upon them with increasing +strength. Her face was deathly pale against the red of her cap. + +"We must get to shore," said Courteney, observing her. + +"That dreadful current!" she gasped through quivering lips. + +"No. We can avoid that. It will mean a scamper over the sands when we +get there, but that will do you good. Stay as you are! I will tow you." + +Had she been less obedient, he would have found his task infinitely +harder. But she was absolutely submissive to his will. Ten minutes later +he landed her close to his own bathing-cove, which he discovered with +relief to be deserted. + +She would have subsided in a heap upon the sand the moment she felt it +warm and dry beneath her feet; but he held her up. + +"No. A good run is what you need. Come! Your mackintosh is half-a-mile +away." + +She looked at him with dismay, but he remained inexorable. He had no +desire to have her fainting on his hands. As if she had been a boy, he +gripped her by the elbow. + +Again she submitted stumblingly to his behest, but when they had covered +half the distance Courteney had mercy. + +"You're fagged out," he said. "Rest here while I go and fetch it!" + +She sank down thankfully on the shingle, and he strode swiftly on. + +When he returned she had hollowed a nest for herself, and was lying +curled up in the sun. Her head was pillowed on her cap, and the soft +golden curls waved tenderly above her white forehead. Once more she +seemed to him a mere child, and he looked down upon her with compassion. + +She sat up at his approach with a boyish, alert movement, and lifted +her eyes to his. He likened them half-unconsciously to the purple-blue +of hare-bells, in the ardent light of the early morning. + +"You are kind!" she said gratefully. + +He placed the white mackintosh around her slim figure. "Take my advice," +he said in his brief fashion, "and don't come bathing alone in this +direction again!" + +She made a small shy gesture of invitation. "Sit down a minute!" she +said half-pleadingly. "I know you are very wet; but the sun is so warm, +and they say sea-water never chills." + +He hesitated momentarily; then, possibly because she had spoken with so +childlike an appeal, he sat down in the shingle beside her. + +She stretched out a slender hand to him, almost as though feeling her +way. And when he took it she made a slight movement towards him, as of +one about to make a confidence. "Now we can talk," she said. + +He let her hand go again, and felt in the pocket of his coat, which he +carried on his arm, for his pipe. + +She drew a little nearer to him. "Mr. Courteney," she said, "doesn't +'Thank you' sound a silly thing to say?" + +He drew back. "Don't! Please don't!" he said, and flushed uneasily as he +opened his tobacco-pouch. "I would infinitely rather you said nothing at +all to any one. Don't do it again, that's all." + +"Mustn't I even tell Rosa Mundi?" she said. + +His flush deepened as he remembered that she would probably know him by +name. She must have known in those far-off Australian days that he was +working with all his might to free young Baron from her toils. + +He sat in silence till, "Will you tell me something?" whispered +Rosemary, leaning nearer. + +He stiffened involuntarily. "I don't know." + +"Please try!" she urged softly. "I feel sure you can. Why--why don't you +like Rosa Mundi?" + +He looked at her, and his eyes were steely; but they softened by +imperceptible degrees as they met the earnest sweetness of her answering +look. "No, I can't tell you that," he said with decision. + +But her look held him. "Is it because you don't think she is very good?" + +"I can't tell you," he said again. + +Still she looked at him, and again there seemed to be in her eyes that +expression of a child who has seen life without understanding it. +"Perhaps you think I am too young to know good from evil," she said +after a moment. "I am not. I have told you I am older than I look, and +in some things I am older even than my years. Then, too, I belong to +Rosa Mundi. I told you, didn't I? I am her familiar spirit. She has even +called me her angel, or her better self. I know a great many things +about her, and some of them are very sad. May I tell you some of the +things I know?" + +He turned his eyes away from her abruptly, with the feeling that he was +resisting some curious magnetism. What was there about this child that +attracted him? He was not a lover of children. Moreover, she was verging +upon womanhood approaching what he grimly termed "the dangerous age." + +He filled his pipe deliberately while she waited for his answer, turning +his gaze upon the dazzling line of the horizon. + +"You can do as you like," he said at last, and added formally, "May I +smoke?" + +She nodded. "Yes, I would like you to. It will keep you from being +bored. I want to tell you about Rosa Mundi, because you do not judge her +fairly. You only know her by repute, and I--I know her heart to heart." + +Her voice deepened suddenly, and the man glanced downwards for an +instant, but immediately looked away again. She should tell him what she +would, but by no faintest sign should she imagine that she had succeeded +in arousing his interest. The magnetism was drawing him. He was aware of +the attraction, and with firmness he resisted it. Let her strive as she +would, she would never persuade him to think kindly of Rosa Mundi. + +"You think her--bad," said Rosemary, her voice pitched very low. "I +know--oh, I know. Men--some men--are very hard on women like her, women +who have had to hew their own way in the world, and meet temptation +almost before"--her voice quivered a little--"they knew what temptation +meant." + +He looked down at her again suddenly and searchingly; but her clear eyes +never flinched from his. They were pleading and a little troubled, but +wholly unafraid. + +"Perhaps you won't believe me," she said. "You'll think you know best. +But Rosa Mundi wasn't bad always--not at the beginning. Her dancing +began when she was young--oh, younger than I am. It was a dreadful +uphill fight. She had a mother then--a mother she adored. Did you ever +have a mother like that, I wonder? Perhaps it isn't the same with men, +but there are some women who would gladly die for their mothers. +And--and Rosa Mundi felt like that. A time came when her mother was +dying of a slow disease, and she needed things--many things. Rosa Mundi +wasn't a success then. She hadn't had her chance. But there was a man--a +man with money and influence--who was willing to offer it to +her--at--at--a price. She was dancing for chance coppers outside a San +Francisco saloon when first he made his offer. She--refused." + +Rosemary's soft eyes were suddenly lowered. She did not look like a +child any longer, but a being sexless, yet very pitiful--an angel about +to weep. + +Courteney watched her, for he could not turn away. + +Almost under her breath, she went on: "A few days later her mother began +to suffer--oh, terribly. There was no money, no one to help. She went +again and danced at the saloon entrance. He--the man--was there. She +danced till she was tired out. And then--and then--she was hungry, +too--she fainted." The low voice sank a little lower. "When she came to +herself, she was in his keeping. He was very kind to her--too kind. Her +strength was gone, and--and temptation is harder to resist when one is +physically weak too. When she went back to her mother she had +accepted--his--offer. From that night her fortune was made." + +Two tears gathered on the dark lashes and hung there till she put up a +quick hand and brushed them away. + +The man's face was curiously softened; he looked as if he desired to dry +those tears himself. + +Without looking up she continued. "The mother died--very, very soon. +Life is like that. Often one pays--in vain. There is no bargaining with +death. But at least she never knew. That was Rosa Mundi's only comfort. +There was no turning back for her then. And she was so desolate, so +lonely, nothing seemed to matter. + +"She went from triumph to triumph. She carried all before her. He took +her to New York, and she conquered there. They strewed her path with +roses. They almost worshipped her. She tried to think she was happy, but +she was not--even then. They came around her in crowds. They made love +to her. She was young, and their homage was like a coloured ball to +her. She tossed it to and fro, and played with it. But she made game of +it all. They were nothing to her--nothing, till one day there came to +her a boy--no, he was past his boyhood--a young man--rich, well-born, +and honourable. And he--he loved her, and offered her--marriage. No one +had ever offered her that before. Can you realize--but no, you are a +man!--what it meant to her? It meant shelter and peace and freedom. It +meant honour and kindness, and the chance to be good. Perhaps you think +she would not care for that. But you do not know her. Rosa Mundi was +meant to be good. She hungered for goodness. She was tired--so tired of +the gaudy vanities of life, so--so--what is the word--so nauseated with +the cheap and the bad. Are you sorry for her, I wonder? Can you picture +her, longing--oh, longing--for what she calls respectability? And +then--this chance, this offer of deliverance! It meant giving up her +career, of course. It meant changing her whole life. It meant +sacrifice--the sort of sacrifice that you ought to be able to +understand--for she loved her dancing and her triumphs, just as you love +your public--the people who read your books and love you for their sake. +That is different, isn't it, from the people who follow you about and +want to stare at you just because you are prosperous and popular? The +people who really appreciate your art--those are the people you would +not disappoint for all the world. They make up a vast friendship that +is very precious, and it would be a sacrifice--a big--sacrifice--to give +it up. That is the sort of sacrifice that marriage meant to Rosa Mundi. +And though she wanted marriage--and she wanted to be good--she +hesitated." + +There was a little pause. Randal Courteney was no longer dissembling his +interest. He had laid his pipe aside, and was watching with unvarying +intentness the downcast childish face. He asked no questions. There was +something in the low-spoken words that held him silent. Perhaps he +feared to probe too deep. + +In a few moments she went on, gathering up a little handful of the +shining shingle, and slowly sifting it through her fingers as though in +search of something precious. + +"I think if she had really loved the man, it wouldn't have mattered. +Nothing counts like love, does it? But--you see--she didn't. She wanted +to. She knew that he was clean and honourable, worthy of a good woman. +He loved her, too, loved her so that he was willing to put away all her +past. For she did not deceive him about that. He was willing to give her +all--all she wanted. But she did not love him. She honoured him, and she +felt for a time at least that love might come. He guessed that, and he +did his best--all that he could think of--to get her to consent. In the +end--in the end"--Rosemary paused, a tiny stone in her hand that shone +like polished crystal--"she was very near to the verge of yielding, the +young man had almost won, when--when something happened that +altered--everything. The young man had a friend, a writer, a great man +even then; he is greater now. The friend came, and he threw his whole +weight into the scale against her. She felt him--the force of +him--before she so much as saw him. She had broken with her lover some +time before. She was free. And she determined to marry the young man who +loved her--in spite of his friend. That very day it happened. The young +man sent her a book written by his friend. She had begun to hate the +writer, but out of curiosity she opened it and read. First a bit here, +then a bit there, and at last she sat down and read it--all through." + +The little shining crystal lay alone in the soft pink palm. Rosemary +dwelt upon it, faintly smiling. + +"She read far into the night," she said, speaking almost dreamily, as if +recounting a vision conjured up in the glittering surface of the stone. +"It was a free night for her. And she read on and on and on. The book +gripped her; it fascinated her. It was--a great book. It was +called--_Remembrance_." She drew a quick breath and went on somewhat +hurriedly. "It moved her in a fashion that perhaps you would hardly +realize. I have read it, and I--understand. The writing was wonderful. +It brought home to her--vividly, oh, vividly--how the past may be atoned +for, but never, never effaced. It hurt her--oh, it hurt her. But it did +her good. It showed her how she was on the verge of taking a wrong +turning, of perhaps--no, almost certainly--dragging down the man who +loved her. She saw suddenly the wickedness of marrying him just to +escape her own prison. She understood clearly that only love could have +justified her--no other motive than that. She saw the evil of fastening +her past to an honourable man whose good name and family demanded of him +something better. She felt as if the writer had torn aside a veil and +shown her her naked soul. And--and--though the book was a good book, and +did not condemn sinners--she was shocked, she was horrified, at what it +made her see." + +Rosemary suddenly closed her hand upon the shining stone, and turned +fully and resolutely to the man beside her. + +"That night changed Rosa Mundi," she said; "changed her completely. +Before it was over she wrote to the young man who loved her and told him +that she could not marry him. The letter did not go till the following +evening. She kept it back for a few hours--in case she repented. +But--though she suffered--she did not repent. In the evening she had an +engagement to dance. The young man was there--in the front row. And he +brought his friend. She danced. Her dancing was superb that night. She +had a passionate desire to bewitch the man who had waked her soul--as +she had bewitched so many others. She had never met a man she could not +conquer. She was determined to conquer him. Was it wrong? Anyway, it was +human. She danced till her very heart was on fire, danced till she trod +the clouds. Her audience went mad with the delight of it. They raved as +if they were intoxicated. All but one man! All but one man! And he--at +the end--he looked her just once in the eyes, stonily, piercingly, and +went away." She uttered a sharp, choking breath. "I have nearly done," +she said. "Can you guess what happened then? Perhaps you know. The man +who loved her received her letter when he got back that night. +And--and--she had bewitched him, remember; he--shot himself. The +friend--the writer--she never saw again. But--but--Rosa Mundi has never +forgotten him. She carries him in her heart--the man who taught her the +meaning of life." + +She ceased to speak, and suddenly, like a boy, sprang to her feet, +tossing away the stone that she had treasured in her hand. + +But the man was almost as quick as she. He caught her by the shoulder as +he rose. "Wait!" he said. "Wait!" His voice rang hard, but there was no +hardness in his eyes. "Tell me--who you are!" + +She lifted her eyes to his fearlessly, without shame. "What does it +matter who I am?" she said. "What does it matter? I have told you I am +Rosemary. That is her name for me, and it was your book called +_Remembrance_ that made her give it me." + +He held her still, looking at her with a growing compassion in his +eyes. "You are her child," he said. + +She smiled. "Perhaps--spiritually. Yes, I think I am her child, such a +child as she might have been if--Fate--had been kind to her--- or if she +had read your book before--and not after." + +He let her go slowly, almost with reluctance. "I think I should like to +meet your--Rosa Mundi," he said. + +Her eyes suddenly shone. "Not really? You are in earnest? But--but--- +you would hurt her. You despise her." + +"I am sorry for her," he said, and there was a hint of doggedness in his +voice, as though he spoke against his better judgment. + +The child's face had an eager look, but she seemed to be restraining +herself. "I ought to tell you one thing about her first," she said. +"Perhaps you will disapprove. I don't know. But it is because of +you--and your revelation--that she is doing it. Rosa Mundi is going to +be married. No, she is not giving up her career or anything--except her +freedom. Her old lover has come back to her. She is going to marry him +now. He wants her for his wife." + +"Ah!" It was the man who was eager now. He spoke impulsively. "She will +be happy then? She loves him?" + +Rosemary looked at him with her clear, unfaltering eyes. "Oh, no," she +said. "He isn't that sort of man at all. Besides, there is only one man +in the world that she could care for in that way. No, she doesn't love +him. But she is doing the right thing, and she is going to be good. You +will not despise her any more?" + +There was such anxious appeal in her eyes that he could not meet it. He +turned his own away. + +There fell a silence between them, and through it the long, long roar of +the sea rose up--a mighty symphony of broken chords. + +The man moved at last, looked down at the slight boyish figure beside +him, hesitated, finally spoke. "I still think that I should like to meet +Rosa Mundi," he said. + +Her eyes smiled again. "And you will not despise her now," she said, her +tone no longer a question. + +"I think," said Randal Courteney slowly, "that I shall never despise any +one again." + +"Life is so difficult," said Rosemary, with the air of one who knew. + + * * * * * + +They were strewing the Pier with roses for Rosa Mundi's night. There +were garlands of roses, festoons of roses, bouquets of roses; roses +overhead, roses under foot, everywhere roses. + +Summer had returned triumphant to deck the favourite's path. + +Randal Courteney marked it all gravely, without contempt. It was her +hour. + +No word from her had reached him, but that night he would meet her face +to face. Through days and nights of troubled thought, the resolve had +grown within him. To-night it should bear fruit. He would not rest again +until he had seen her. For his peace of mind was gone. She was about to +throw herself away upon a man she did not love, and he felt that it was +laid upon him to stop the sacrifice. The burden of responsibility was +his. He had striven against this conviction, but it would not be denied. +From the days of young Eric Baron's tragedy onward, this woman had made +him as it were the star of her destiny. To repudiate the fact was +useless. She had, in her ungoverned, impulsive fashion, made him surety +for her soul. + +The thought tormented him, but it held a strange attraction for him +also. If the story were true, and it was not in him to doubt it, it +touched him in a way that was wholly unusual. Popularity, adulation, had +been his portion for years. But this was different, this was personal--a +matter in which reputation, fame, had no part. In a different sphere she +also was a star, with a host of worshippers even greater than his own. +The humility of her amazed him. She had, as it were, taken her fate +between her hands and laid it as an offering at his feet. + +And so, on Rosa Mundi's night, he went to the great Pavilion, mingling +with the crowd, determined when her triumph was over, to seek her out. +There would be a good many seekers, he doubted not; but he was convinced +that she would not deny him an interview. + +He secured a seat in the third row, avoiding almost by instinct any more +conspicuous position. He was early, and while he waited, the thought of +young Eric Baron came to him--the boy's eager-face, the adoration of his +eyes. He remembered how on that far-off night he had realized the +hopelessness of combating his love, how he had shrugged his shoulders +and relinquished the struggle. And the battle had been his even then--a +bitter victory more disastrous than defeat. + +He put the memory from him and thought of Rosemary--the child with the +morning light in her eyes, the innocence of the morning in her soul. How +tenderly she had spoken of Rosa Mundi! How sweetly she had pleaded her +cause! With what amazing intuition had she understood! Something that +was greater than pity welled up within him. Rosa Mundi's guardian angel +had somehow reached his heart. + +People were pouring into the place. He saw that it was going to be +packed. And outside, lining the whole length of the Pier, they were +waiting for her too, waiting to strew her path with, roses. + +Ah! she was coming! Above the wash of the sea there rose a roar of +voices. They were giving her the homage of a queen. He listened to the +frantic cheering, and again it was Rosa Mundi, splendid and brilliant, +who filled his thoughts as she filled the thoughts of all just then. + +The cheering died down, and there came a great press of people into the +back of the building. The lights were lowered, but he heard the +movement, the buzz of a delighted crowd. + +Suddenly the orchestra burst into loud music. They were playing "Queen +of the Earth," he remembered later. The curtain went up. And in a blaze +of light he saw Rosa Mundi. + +Something within him sprang into quivering life. Something which till +that moment he had never known awoke and gripped him with a force +gigantic. She was robed in shimmering, transparent gold--a queen-woman, +slight indeed, dainty, fairy-like--yet magnificent. Over her head, +caught in a jewelled fillet, there hung a filmy veil of gold, half +revealing, half concealing, the smiling face behind. Trailing wisps of +golden gossamer hung from her beautiful arms. Her feet were bound with +golden sandals. And on her breast were roses--golden roses. + +She was exquisite as a dream. He gazed and gazed upon her as one +entranced. The tumult of acclamation that greeted her swept by him +unheeded. He was conscious only of a passionate desire to fling back the +golden veil that covered her and see the laughing face behind. Its +elusiveness mocked him. She was like a sunbeam standing there, a +flitting, quivering shaft of light, too spiritual to be grasped fully, +almost too dazzling for the eye to follow. + +The applause died down to a dead silence. Her audience watched her with +bated breath. Her dance was a thing indescribable. Courteney could think +of nothing but the flashing of morning sunlight upon running water to +the silver strains of a flute that was surely piped by Pan. He could not +follow the sparkling wonder of her. He felt dazed and strangely +exhilarated, almost on fire with this new, fierce attraction. It was as +if the very soul were being drawn out of his body. She called to him, +she lured him, she bewitched him. + +When he had seen her before, he had been utterly out of sympathy. He had +scorned her charms, had felt an almost angry contempt for young Baron's +raptures. To him she had been a snake-woman, possessed of a fascination +which, to him, was monstrous and wholly incomprehensible. She had worn a +strange striped dress of green--tight-fitting, hideous he had deemed it. +Her face had been painted. He had been too near the stage, and she had +revolted him. Her dance had certainly been wonderful, sinuous, gliding, +suggestive--a perfectly conceived scheme of evil. And she had thought to +entrap him with it! The very memory was repulsive even yet. + +But this--ah! this was different. This thing of light and air, this +dancing sunbeam, this creature of the morning, exquisite in every +detail, perfectly poised, swifter than thought, yet arresting at every +turn, vivid as a meteor, yet beyond all scrutiny, all ocular power of +comprehension, she set every nerve in him a-quiver. She seized upon his +fancy and flung it to and fro, catching a million colours in her radiant +flights. She made the hot blood throb in his temples. She beat upon the +door of his heart. She called back his vanished youth, the passion +unassuaged of his manhood. She appealed to him directly and personally. +She made him realize that he was the one man who had taught--and could +teach--her the meaning of life. + +Then it was over. Like a glittering crystal shattered to fragments, his +dream of ecstasy collapsed. The noise around him was as the roar of +thundering breakers. But he sat mute in the midst of it, as one stunned. + +Someone leaned over from behind and spoke to him. He was aware of a hand +upon his shoulder. + +"What do you think of her?" said Ellis Grant in his ear. "Superb, isn't +she? Come and see her before she appears again!" + +As if compelled by some power outside himself, Courteney rose. He edged +his way to the end of the row and joined the great man there. The whole +house was a seething turmoil of sound. + +Grant was chuckling to himself as one well pleased. In Courteney's eyes +he looked stouter, more prosperous, more keenly business-like, than when +he had spoken with him a few nights previously. He took Courteney by the +arm and led him through a door at the side. + +"Let 'em yell 'emselves hoarse for a bit!" he said. "Do 'em good. Guess +my 'rose of the world' isn't going to be too cheap a commodity.... Which +reminds me, sir. You've cost me a thousand English pounds by coming here +to-night." + +"Indeed?" Courteney spoke stiffly. He felt stiff, physically stiff, as +one forcibly awakened from a deep slumber. + +The man beside him was still chuckling. "Yes. The little witch! Said +she'd manage it somehow when I told her you weren't taking any. We had a +thousand on it, and the little devil has won, outwitted us both. How in +thunder did she do it? Laid a trap for you; what?" + +Courteney did not answer. The stiffness was spreading. He felt as one +turned to stone. Mechanically he yielded to the hand upon his arm, not +speaking, scarcely thinking. + +And then--almost before he knew it--he was in her presence, face to face +with the golden vision that had caught and--for a space at least--had +held his heart. + +He bowed, still silent, still strangely bound and fettered by the +compelling force. + +A hand that was lithe and slender and oddly boyish came out to him. A +voice that had in it sweet, lilting notes, like the voice of a laughing +child, spoke his name. + +"Mr. Courteney! How kind!" it said. + +As from a distance he heard Grant speak. "Mr. Courteney, allow me to +introduce you--my wife!" + +There was a dainty movement like the flash of shimmering wings. He +looked up. She had thrown back her veil. + +He gazed upon her. "Rosemary!" + +She looked back at him above the roses with eyes that were deeply +purple--as the depths of the sea. "Yes, I am Rosemary--to my friends," +she said. + +Ellis Grant was laughing still, in his massive, contented way. "But to +her lover," he said, "she is--and always has been--Rosa Mundi." + +Then speech came back to Courteney, and strength returned. He held +himself in firm restraint. He had been stricken, but he did not flinch. + +"Your husband?" he said. + +She indicated Grant with a careless hand. "Since yesterday," she said. + +He bowed to her again, severely formal. "May I wish you joy?" he said. + +There was an instant's pause, and in that instant something happened. +She had not moved. Her eyes still met his own, but it was as if a veil +had dropped between them suddenly. He saw the purple depths no more. + +"Thank you," said Rosa Mundi, with her little girlish laugh. + + * * * * * + +As he strode down the Pier a few minutes later, he likened the scent +of the crushed roses that strewed the way to the fumes of +sacrifice--sacrifice offered at the feet of a goddess who cared for +nothing sacred. Not till long after did he remember the tears that he +had seen her shed. + + + + +A Debt of Honour + +I + +HOPE AND THE MAGICIAN + + +They lived in the rotten white bungalow at the end of the valley--Hope +and the Magician. It stood in a neglected compound that had once been a +paradise, when a certain young officer belonging to the regiment of +Sikhs then stationed in Ghantala had taken it and made of it a dainty +home for his English bride. Those were the days before the flood, and no +one had lived there since. The native men in the valley still remembered +with horror that awful night when the monsoon had burst in floods and +water-spouts upon the mountains, and the bride, too terrified to remain +in the bungalow, had set out in the worst fury of the storm to find her +husband, who was on duty up at the cantonments. She had been drowned +close to the bungalow in a ranging brown torrent which swept over what a +few hours earlier had been a mere bed of glittering sand. And from that +time the bungalow had been deserted, avoided of all men, a haunted +place, the abode of evil spirits. + +Yet it still stood in its desolation, rotting year by year. No native +would approach the place. No Englishman desired it. For it was well away +from the cantonments, nearer than any other European dwelling to the +native village, and undeniably in the hottest corner of all the Ghantala +Valley. + +Perhaps its general air of desolation had also influenced the minds of +possible tenants, for Ghantala was a cheerful station, and its +inhabitants preferred cheerful dwelling-places. Whatever the cause, it +had stood empty and forsaken for more than a dozen years. + +And then had come Hope and the Magician. + +Hope was a dark-haired, bright-eyed English girl, who loved riding as +she loved nothing else on earth. Her twin-brother, Ronald Carteret, was +the youngest subaltern in his battalion, and for his sake, she had +persuaded the Magician that the Ghantala Valley was an ideal spot to +live in. + +The Magician was their uncle and sole relative, an old man, wizened and +dried up like a monkey, to whom India was a land of perpetual delight +and novelty of which he could never tire. He was engaged upon a book of +Indian mythology, and he was often away from home for the purpose of +research. But his absence made very little difference to Hope. Her +brother lived in the bungalow with her, and the people in the station +were very kind to her. + +The natives, though still wary, had lost their abhorrence of the place. +They believed that the Magician, as they called him, had woven a spell +to keep the evil spirits at a distance. It was known that he was in +constant communication with native priests. Moreover, the miss-_sahib_ +who dwelt at the bungalow remained unharmed, so it seemed there was +nought to fear. + +Hope, after a very few months, cut off her hair and wore it short and +curly. This also seemed to discourage the evil ones. So at length it +appeared that the curse had been removed, or at least placed in +abeyance. + +As for Hope, she liked the place. Her nerves were generally good, and +the joy of being near the brother she idolized outweighed every other +consideration. The colonel's wife, Mrs. Latimer, was very kind to her +from the outset, and she enjoyed all the Ghantala gaieties under her +protection and patronage. + +Not till Mrs. Latimer was taken ill and had to leave hurriedly for the +Hills did it dawn upon Hope, after nearly eight happy months, that her +position was one of considerable isolation, and that this might, under +certain circumstances, become a matter for regret. + + + + +II + +THE VISITOR + +It was on a Sunday evening of breathless heat that this conviction first +took firm hold of Hope. Her uncle was away upon one of his frequent +journeys of research. Her brother was up at the cantonments, and she was +quite alone save for her _ayah_, and the _punkah-coolie_ dozing on the +veranda. + +She had not expected any visitors. Visitors seldom came to the bungalow, +for the simple reason that she was seldom at home to receive them, and +the Magician never considered himself at liberty for social obligations. +So it was with some surprise that she heard footsteps that were not her +brother's upon the baked earth of the compound; and when her _ayah_ came +to her with the news that Hyde _Sahib_ was without, she was even +conscious of a sensation of dismay. + +For Hyde _Sahib_ was a man she detested, without knowing why. He was a +civil servant, an engineer, and he had been in Ghantala longer than any +one else of the European population. Very reluctantly she gave the order +to admit him, hoping that Ronnie would soon return and take him off her +hands. For Ronnie professed to like the man. + +He greeted her with a cool self-assurance that admitted not the smallest +doubt of his welcome. + +"I was passing, and thought I would drop in," he told her, retaining her +hand till she abruptly removed it. "I guessed you would be all forlorn. +The Magician is away, I hear?" + +Hope steadily returned the gaze of his pale eyes, as she replied, with +dignity: + +"Yes; my uncle is from home. But I am not at all lonely. I am expecting +my brother every minute." + +He smiled at her in a way that made her stiffen instinctively. She had +never been so completely alone with him before. + +"Ah, well," he said, "perhaps you will allow me to amuse you till he +returns. I rather want to see him." + +He took her permission for granted, and sat down in a bamboo chair on +the veranda, leaning back, and staring up at her with easy insolence. + +"I can scarcely believe that you are not lonely here," he remarked. "A +figure of speech, I suppose?" + +Hope felt the colour rising in her cheeks under his direct and +unpleasant scrutiny. + +"I have never felt lonely till to-day," she returned, with spirit. + +He laughed incredulously. "No?" he said. + +"No," said Hope with emphasis. "I often think that there are worse +things in the world than solitude." + +Something in her tone--its instinctive enmity, its absolute +honesty--attracted his attention. He sat up and regarded her very +closely. + +She was still on her feet--a slender, upright figure in white. She was +grasping the back of a chair rather tightly, but she did not shrink from +his look, though there was that within her which revolted fiercely as +she met it. But he prolonged the silent combat with brutal intention, +till at last, in spite of herself, her eyes sank, and she made a slight, +unconscious gesture of protest. Then, deliberately and insultingly, he +laughed. + +"Come now, Miss Carteret," he said, "I'm sure you can't mean to be +unfriendly with me. I believe this place gets on your nerves. You're not +looking well, you know." + +"No?" she responded, with frozen dignity. + +"Not so well as I should like to see you," said Hyde, still smiling his +objectionable smile. "I believe you're moped. Isn't that it? I know the +symptoms, and I know an excellent remedy, too. Wouldn't you like to try +it?" + +Hope looked at him uncertainly. She was quivering all over with nervous +apprehension. His manner frightened her. She was not sure that the man +was absolutely sober. But it would be absurd, ridiculous, she told her +thumping heart, to take offence, when it might very well be that the +insult existed in her imagination alone. So, with a desperate courage, +she stood her ground. + +"I really don't know what you mean," she said coldly. "But it doesn't +matter; tell me about your racer instead!" + +"Not a bit of it," returned Hyde. "It's one thing at a time with me +always. Besides, why should I bore you to that extent? Why, I'm boring +you already. Isn't that so?" + +He set his hands on the arms of his chair preparatory to rising, as he +spoke; and Hope took a quick step away from him. There was a look in his +eyes that was horrible to her. + +"No," she said, rather breathlessly. "No; I'm not at all bored. Please +don't get up; I'll go and order some refreshment." + +"Nonsense!" he said sharply. "I don't want it. I won't have any! I +mean"--his manner softening abruptly---"not unless you will join me; +which, I fear, is too much to expect. Now don't go away! Come and sit +here!" drawing close to his own the chair on which she had been leaning. +"I want to tell you something. Don't look so scared! It's something +you'll like; it is, really. And you're bound to hear it sooner or later, +so it may as well be now. Why not?" + +But Hope's nerves were stretched to snapping point, and she shrank +visibly. After all, she was very young, and there was that about this +man that terrified her. + +"No," she said hurriedly. "No; I would rather not. There is nothing you +could tell me that I should like to hear. I--I am going to the gate to +look for Ronnie." + +It was childish, it was pitiable; and had the man been other than a +coward it must have moved him to compassion. As it was he sprang up +suddenly, as though to detain her, and Hope's last shred of self-control +deserted her. + +She uttered a smothered cry and fled. + + + + +III + +THE FRIEND IN NEED + +The road that led to the cantonments was ill-made and stony, but she +dashed along it like a mad creature, unconscious of everything save the +one absorbing desire to escape. Ronnie was not in sight, but she +scarcely thought of him. The light was failing fast, and she knew that +it would soon be quite dark, save for a white streak of moon overhead. +It was still frightfully hot. The atmosphere oppressed her like a leaden +weight. It seemed to keep her back, and she battled with it as with +something tangible. Her feet were clad in thin slippers, and at any +other time she would have known that the rough stones cut and hurt her. +But in the terror of the moment she felt no pain. She only had the sense +to run straight on, with gasping breath and failing limbs, till at last, +quite suddenly, her strength gave out and she sank, an exhausted, +sobbing heap, upon the roadway. + +There came the tread of a horse's hoofs, and she started and made a +convulsive effort to crawl to one side. She was nearer fainting than she +had ever been in her life. + +Then the hoof-beats stopped, and she uttered a gasping cry, all her +nameless terror for the moment renewed. + +A man jumped to the ground and, with a word to his animal, stooped over +her. She shrank from him in unreasoning panic. + +"Who is it? Who is it?" she sobbed. He answered her instantly, rather +curtly. + +"I--Baring. What's the matter? Something gone wrong?" + +She felt strong hands lifting her, and she yielded herself to them, her +panic quenched. + +"Oh, Major Baring!" she said faintly. "I didn't know you!" + +Major Baring made no response. He held her on her feet facing him, for +she seemed unable to stand, and waited for her to recover herself. She +trembled violently between his hands, but she made a resolute effort +after self-control. + +"I--I didn't know you," she faltered again. + +"What's the matter?" asked Major Baring. + +But she could not tell him. Already the suspicion that she had behaved +unreasonably was beginning to take possession of her. Yet--yet--Hyde +must have seen she was alarmed. He might have reassured her. She +recalled the look in his eyes, and shuddered. She was sure he had been +drinking. She had heard someone say that he did drink. + +"I--I have had a fright," she said at last. "It was very foolish of me, +of course. Very likely it was a false alarm. Anyhow, I am better now. +Thank you." + +He let her go, but she was still so shaken that she tottered and +clutched his arm. + +"Really I am all right," she assured him tremulously. "It is +only--only--" + +He put his arm around her without comment; and again she yielded as a +child might have yielded to the comfort of his support. + +After some seconds he spoke, and she fancied his voice sounded rather +grim. + +"I am going your way," he said. "I will walk back with you." + +Hope was crying to herself in the darkness, but she hoped he did not +notice. + +"I think I shall go and meet Ronnie," she said. "I don't want to go +back. It--it's so lonely." + +"I will come in with you," he returned. + +"Oh, no!" she said quickly. "No! I mean--I mean--I don't want you to +trouble any more about me. Indeed, I shall be all right." + +He received the assurance in silence; and she began to wonder dolefully +if she had offended him. Then, with abrupt kindliness, he set her mind +at rest. + +"Dry your eyes," he said, "and leave off crying, like a good child! +Ronnie's at the club, and won't be home at present. I didn't know you +were all alone, or I would have brought him along with me. That's +better. Now, shall we make a move?" + +He slung his horse's bridle on his arm and, still supporting her with +the other, began to walk down the stony road. Hope made no further +protest. She had always considered Ronnie's major a rather formidable +person. She knew that Ronnie stood in awe of him, though she had always +found him kind. + +They had not gone five yards when he stopped. + +"You are limping. What is it?" + +She murmured something about the stones. + +"You had better ride," he decided briefly. "Rupert will carry you like a +lamb. Ready? How's that?" + +He lifted her up into the saddle as if she had been a child, and stooped +to arrange her foot in the strap of the stirrup. + +"Good heavens!" she heard him murmur, as he touched her shoe. "No wonder +the stones seemed hard! Quite comfortable?" he asked her, as he +straightened himself. + +"Quite," she answered meekly. + +And he marched on, leading the horse with care. + +At the gate of the shadowy little compound that surrounded the bungalow +she had quitted so precipitately he paused. + +"I will leave the animal here," he said, holding up his hands to her. + +She slipped into them submissively. + +The cry of a jackal somewhere beyond the native village made her start +and tremble. Her nerves were still on edge. + +Major Baring slipped the bridle over the gate-post and took her hand in +his. The grip of his fingers was very strong and reassuring. + +"Come," he said kindly, "let us go and look for this bogey of yours!" + +But at this point Hope realized fully that she had made herself +ridiculous, and that for the sake of her future self-respect she must by +some means restrain him from putting his purpose into execution. She +stood still and faced him. + +"Major Baring," she said, her voice quivering in spite of her utmost +effort, "I want you--please--not to come any farther. I know I have been +very foolish. I am sure of it now. And--please--do you mind going away, +and not thinking any more about it?" + +"Yes, I do," said Major Baring. + +He spoke with unmistakable decision, and the girl's heart sank. + +"Listen!" he said quietly. "Like you, I think you have probably been +unnecessarily alarmed. But, even so, I am coming with you to satisfy +myself. Or--if you prefer--I will go alone, and you can wait for me +here." + +"Oh, no!" said Hope quickly. "If--if you must go, I'll come, too. But +first, will you promise--whatever happens--not to--to laugh at me?" + +Baring made an abrupt movement that she was at a loss to interpret. It +was too dark for her to see his face with any distinctness. + +"Very well," he said. "Yes; I promise that." + +Hope was still almost crying. She felt horribly ashamed. With her hand +in his, she went beside him up the short drive to the bungalow. And, as +she went, she vehemently wished that the earth would open and swallow +her up. + + + + +IV + +HER NATURAL PROTECTOR + + +They ascended to the veranda still hand-in-hand. It was deserted. + +Baring led her straight along it till he came to the two chairs outside +the drawing-room window. They were empty. A servant had just lighted a +lamp in the room behind them. + +"Go in!" said Baring. "I will come back to you." + +She obeyed him. She felt incapable of resistance just then. He passed on +quietly, and she stood inside the room, waiting and listening with +hushed breath and hands tightly clenched. + +The seconds crawled by, and again there came to her straining ears the +cry of a jackal from far away. Then at last she caught the sound of +Baring's voice, curt and peremptory, and her heart stood still. But he +was only speaking to the _punkah-coolie_ round the corner, for almost +instantly the great fan above her head began to move. + +A few seconds more, and he reappeared at the window alone. Hope drew a +great breath of relief and awoke to the fact that she was trembling +violently. + +She looked at him as he came quietly in. His lean, bronzed face, with +the purple scar of a sword-cut down one cheek, told her nothing. Only +she fancied that his mouth, under its narrow, black line of moustache, +looked stern. + +He went straight up to her and laid his hand on her shoulder. + +"Tell me what frightened you!" he said, looking down at her with keen +blue eyes that shone piercingly in his dark face. + +She shook her head instantly, unable to meet his look. + +"Please," she said beseechingly, "please don't ask me! I would so much +rather not." + +"I have promised not to laugh at you," he reminded her gravely. + +"I know," she said. "I know. But really, really, I can't. It was so +silly of me to be frightened. I am not generally silly like that. +But--somehow--to-day--" + +Her voice failed her. He took his hand from her shoulder; and she knew +suddenly that, had he chosen, he could have compelled. + +"Don't be distressed!" he said. "Whatever it was, it's gone. Sit down, +won't you?" + +Hope dropped rather limply into a chair. The security of Baring's +protecting presence was infinitely comforting, but her fright and +subsequent exertion had made her feel very weak. Baring went to the +window and stood there for some seconds, with his back to her. She noted +his height and breadth of shoulder with a faint sense of pleasure. She +had always admired this man. Secretly--his habitual kindness to her +notwithstanding--she was also a little afraid of him, but her fear did +not trouble her just then. + +He turned quietly at length and seated himself near the window. + +"How long does your uncle expect to be away?" he asked. + +She shook her head. + +"I never know; he may come back to-morrow, or perhaps not for days." + +Baring's black brows drew together. + +"Where is he?" he asked. She shook her head again. + +He said nothing; but his silence was so condemnatory that she felt +herself called upon to defend the absent one. + +"You see, he came here in the first place because I begged so very hard. +And he has to travel because of his book. I always knew that, so I +really can't complain. Besides, I'm not generally lonely, and hardly +ever nervous. And I have Ronnie." + +"Ronnie!" said Baring; and for the first time he looked contemptuous. + +Hope sighed. + +"It's quite my own fault," she said humbly. "If I hadn't--" + +"Pardon me! It is not your fault," he interrupted grimly. "It is +iniquitous that a girl like you should be left in such a place as this +entirely without protection. Have you a revolver?" + +Hope looked startled. + +"Oh, no!" she said. "If I had, I should never dare to use it, even if I +knew how." + +Baring looked at her, still frowning. + +"I think you are braver than that," he said. + +Hope flushed vividly, and rose. + +"No," she said, a note of defiance in her voice. "I'm a miserable +coward, Major Baring. But no one knows it but you and, perhaps, one +other. So I hope you won't give me away." + +Baring did not smile. + +"Who else knows it?" he asked. + +Hope met his eyes steadily. She was evidently resolved to be weak no +longer. + +"It doesn't matter, does it?" she said. + +He did not answer her; and again she had a feeling that he was offended. + +There was a considerable pause before he spoke again. He seemed to be +revolving something in his mind. Then at last, abruptly, he began to +talk upon ordinary topics, and at once she felt more at her ease with +him. They sat by the window after that for the best part of an hour; +till, in fact, the return of her brother put an end to their +_tete-a-tete_. + +By those who were least intimate with the Carteret twins it was often +said that in feature they were exactly alike. Those who knew them better +saw no more than a very strong resemblance in form and colouring, but it +went no farther. In expression they differed utterly. The boy's face +lacked the level-browed honesty that was so conspicuous in the girl's. +His mouth was irresolute. His eyes were uncertain. Yet he was a +good-looking boy, notwithstanding these defects. He had a pleasant laugh +and winning manner, and was essentially kind-hearted, if swift to take +offence. + +He came in through the window, walking rather heavily, and halted just +inside the room, blinking, as if the light dazzled him. Baring gave him +a single glance that comprehended him from head to foot, and rose from +his chair. + +Again it seemed to Hope that she saw contempt upon his face; and a rush +of indignation checked the quick words of welcome upon her lips. + +Her brother spoke first, and his words sounded rather slurred, as if he +had been running. + +"Hullo!" he said. "Here you are! Don't get up! I expected to find you!" + +He addressed Baring, who replied instantly, and with extreme emphasis: + +"That I am sure you did not." + +Ronnie started, and put his hand to his eyes as if confused. + +"Beg pardon," he said, a moment later, in an odd tone of shame. "I +thought it was Hyde. The light put me off. It--it's Major Baring, isn't +it?" + +"Yes; Baring." Baring repeated his own name deliberately; and, as by a +single flash of revelation Hope understood the meaning of his contempt. + +She stood as if turned to stone. She had often seen Ronnie curiously +excited, even incoherently so, before that night, but she had never seen +him like this. She had never imagined before for a single instant what +now she abruptly knew without the shadow of a doubt. + +A feeling that was like physical sickness came over her. She looked from +Ronnie to Ronnie's major with a sort of piteous appeal. Baring turned +gravely towards her. + +"You will let me have a word alone with your brother?" he said quietly. +"I was waiting to see him, as you know." + +She felt that he had given her a definite command, and she obeyed it +mutely, almost mechanically. He opened the door for her, and she went +out in utter silence, sick at heart. + + + + +V + +MORE THAN A FRIEND + + +Two days later Hope received an invitation from Mrs. Latimer to join her +at the Hill Station for a few weeks. + +She hesitated, for her brother's sake, to accept it, but he, urged +thereto by some very plain speaking from his major, persuaded her so +strongly that she finally yielded. + +Though she would not have owned it, Hope was, in fact, in sore need of +this change. The heat had told upon her nerves and spirits. She had had +no fever, but she was far from well, as her friend, Mrs. Latimer, +realized as soon as she saw her. + +She at once prescribed complete rest, and the week that followed was to +Hope the laziest and the most peaceful that she had ever known. She was +always happy in Mrs. Latimer's society, and she had no desire just then +for gaiety. The absolute freedom from care acted upon her like a tonic, +and she very quickly began to recover her usual buoyant health. + +The colonel's wife watched her unobserved. She had by her a letter, +written in the plain language of a man who knew no other, and she often +referred to this letter when she was alone; for there seemed to be +something between the lines, notwithstanding its plainness. + +As a result of this suspicion, when Hope rode back in Mrs. Latimer's +_rickshaw_ from an early morning service at the little English church on +the hill, on the second Sunday after her arrival, a big figure, clad in +white linen, rose from a _charpoy_ in Mrs. Latimer's veranda, and +stepped down bareheaded to receive her. + +Hope's face, as she recognized the visitor, flushed so vividly that she +was aware of it, and almost feared to meet his eyes. But he spoke at +once, and thereby set her at her ease. + +"That's much better," he said approvingly, as if he had only parted from +her the day before. "I was afraid you were going on the sick-list, but I +see you have thought better of it. Very wise of you." + +She met his smile with a feeling of glad relief. + +"How is Ronnie?" she said. + +He laughed a little at the hasty question. + +"Ronnie is quite well, and sends his love. He is going to have a five +days' leave next week to come and see you. It would have been this week, +but for me." + +Hope looked up at him enquiringly. + +"You see," he quietly explained, "I was coming myself, and--it will seem +odd to you, of course--I didn't want Ronnie." + +Hope was silent. There was something in his manner that baffled her. + +"Selfish of me, wasn't it?" he said. + +"I don't know," said Hope. + +"It was, I assure you," he returned; "sheer selfishness on my part. Are +we going to breakfast on the veranda? You will have to do the honours, I +know. Mrs. Latimer is still in bed." + +Hope sat down thoughtfully. She had never seen Major Baring in this +light-hearted mood. She would have enjoyed it, but for the thought of +Ronnie. + +"Wasn't he disappointed?" she asked presently. + +"Horribly," said Baring. "He turned quite green when he heard. I don't +think I had better tell you what he said." + +He was watching her quietly across the table, and she knew it. After a +moment she raised her eyes. + +"Yes; tell me what he said, Major Baring!" she said. + +"Not yet," said Baring. "I am waiting to hear you tell me that you are +even more bitterly disappointed than he was." + +"I don't see how I can tell you that," said Hope, turning her attention +to the coffee-urn. + +"No? Why not?" + +"Because it wouldn't be very friendly," she answered gravely. + +"Do you know, I almost dared to fancy it was because it wouldn't be +true?" said Baring. + +She glanced up at that, and their eyes met. Though he was smiling a +little, there was no mistaking the message his held for her. She +coloured again very deeply, and bent her head to hide it. + +He did not keep her waiting. Very quietly, very resolutely, he leaned +towards her across the table, and spoke. + +"I will tell you now what your brother said to me, Hope," he said, his +voice half-quizzical, half-tender. "He's an impertinent young rascal, +but I bore with him for your sake, dear. He said: 'Go in and win, old +fellow, and I'll give you my blessing!' Generous of him, wasn't it? But +the question is, have I won?" + +Yet she could not speak. Only as he stretched out his hands to her, she +laid her own within them without an instant's hesitation, and suffered +them to remain in his close grasp. When he spoke to her again, his voice +was sunk very low. + +"How did I come to propose in this idiotic fashion across the +breakfast-table?" he said. "Never mind, it's done now--or nearly done. +You mustn't tremble, dear. I have been rather sudden, I know. I should +have waited longer; but, under the circumstances, it seemed better to +speak at once. But there is nothing to frighten you. Just look me in the +face and tell me, may I be more than a friend to you? Will you have me +for a husband?" Hope raised her eyes obediently, with a sudden sense of +confidence unutterable. They were full of the quick tears of joy. + +"Of course!" she said instantly. "Of course!" She blushed again +afterwards, when she recalled her prompt, and even rapturous, answer to +his question. But, at the time, it was the most natural and spontaneous +thing in the world. It was not in her at that moment to have answered +him otherwise. And Baring knew it, understanding so perfectly that no +other word was necessary on either side. He only bent his head, and held +her two hands very closely to his lips before he gently let them go. It +was his sole reply to her glad response. Yet she felt as if there was +something solemn in his action; almost as if thereby he registered a +vow. + + + + +VI + +HER ENEMY + + +Notwithstanding her determination to return to Ghantala after the +breaking of the monsoon. Hope stayed on at the Hill Station with Mrs. +Latimer till the rains were nearly over. She had wished to return, but +her hostess, her _fiance_, and her brother were all united in the +resolve to keep her where she was. So insistent were they that they +prevailed at length. It had been a particularly bad season at Ghantala, +and sickness was rife there. + +Baring even went so far as positively to forbid her to return till this +should have abated. + +"You will have to obey me when we are married, you know," he grimly told +her. "So you may as well begin at once." + +And Hope obeyed him. There was something about this man that compelled +her obedience. Her secret fear of him had not wholly disappeared. There +were times when the thought that she might one day incur his displeasure +made her uneasy. His strength awed even while it thrilled her. Behind +his utmost tenderness she felt his mastery. + +And so she yielded, and remained at the Hill Station till Mrs. Latimer +herself returned to Ghantala in October. She and Ronnie had not been +together for nearly six weeks, and the separation seemed to her like as +many months. He was at the station to meet them, and the moment she saw +him she was conscious of a shock. She had never before seen him look so +hollow-eyed and thin. + +He greeted her, however, with a gaiety that, in some degree, reassured +her. He seemed delighted to have her with him again, was full of the +news and gossip of the station, and chattered like a schoolboy +throughout the drive to their bungalow. + +Her uncle came out of his room to welcome her, and then burrowed back +again, and remained invisible for the rest of the evening. But Hope did +not want him. She wanted no one but Ronnie just then. + +The night was chilly, and they had a fire. Hope lay on a sofa before it, +and Ronnie sat and smoked. Both were luxuriously comfortable till a hand +rapped smartly upon the window and made them jump. + +Ronnie exclaimed with a violence that astonished Hope, and started to +his feet. She also sprang up eagerly, almost expecting to see her +_fiance_. But her expectations were quickly dashed. + +"It's that fellow Hyde!" Ronnie said, looking at her rather doubtfully. +"You don't mind?" + +Her face fell, but he did not wait for her reply. He stepped across to +the window, and admitted the visitor. + +Hyde sauntered in with a casual air. + +He came across to her, smiling in the way she loathed, and almost before +she realized it he had her hand in a tight, impressive grip, and his +pale eyes were gazing full into hers. + +"You look as fresh as an English rose," was his deliberate greeting. + +Hope freed her hand with a slight, involuntary gesture of disgust. Till +the moment of seeing him again she had almost forgotten how utterly +objectionable he was. + +"I am quite well," she said coldly. "I think I shall go to bed, Ronnie. +I'm tired." + +Ronnie was pouring some whisky into a glass. She noticed that his hand +was very shaky. + +"All right," he said, not looking at her. + +"You're not going to desert us already?" said Hyde; still, as she felt, +mocking her with his smile. "It will be dark, indeed, when Hope is +withdrawn." + +He went to the door, but paused with his hand upon it. She looked at him +with the wild shrinking of a trapped creature in her eyes. + +"Never mind," he laughed softly; "I am very tenacious. Even now--you +will scarcely believe it--I still have--Hope!" + +He opened the door with the words, and, as she passed through in +unbroken silence, her face as white as marble, there was something in +his words, something of self-assured power, almost of menace, that +struck upon her like a breath of evil. She would have stayed and defied +him had she dared. But somehow, inexplicably, she was afraid. + + + + +VII + +THE SCRAPE + + +Very late that night there came a low knock at Hope's door. She was +lying awake, and she instantly started up on her elbow. + +"Who is it?" she called. + +The door opened softly, and Ronnie answered her. + +"I thought you would like to say good-night, Hope," he said. + +"Oh, come in, dear!" Hope sat up eagerly. She had not expected this +attention from Ronnie. "I'm wide awake. I'm so glad you came!" + +He slipped into the room, and, reaching her, bent to kiss her; then, as +she clung closely to him, he sat down on the edge of her bed. + +"I'm sorry Hyde annoyed you," he said. + +She leaned her head against him, and was silent. + +"It'll be a good thing for you when you're married," Ronnie went on +presently. "Baring will take better care of you than I do." + +Something in his tone went straight to her heart. Her clinging arms +tightened, but still she was silent. For what he said was unanswerable. + +When he spoke again, she felt it was with an effort. + +"Baring came round to-night to see you. I went out and spoke to him. I +told him you had gone to bed, and so he didn't come in. I was glad he +didn't. Hyde was there, and they don't hit it particularly well. In +fact--" he hesitated. "I would rather he didn't know Hyde was here. +Baring's a good chap--the best in the world. He's done no end for me; +more than I can ever tell you. But he's awfully hard in some ways. I +can't tell him everything. He doesn't always understand." + +Again there sounded in his voice that faint, wistful note that so smote +upon Hope's heart. She drew nearer to him, her cheek against his +shoulder. + +"Oh, Ronnie," she said, and her voice quivered passionately, "never +think that of me, dear! Never think that I can't understand!" + +He kissed her forehead. + +"Bless you, old girl!" he whispered huskily. + +"My marriage will make no difference--no difference," she insisted. "You +and I will still be to each other what we have always been. There will +be the same trust between us, the same confidence. Rather than lose +that, I will never marry at all!" + +She spoke with vehemence, but Ronnie was not carried away by it. + +"Baring will have the right to know all your secrets," he said gloomily. + +"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Hope impulsively. "He would never expect that. +He knows that we are twins, and there is no tie in the world that is +quite like that." + +Ronnie was silent, but she felt that it was not the silence of +acquiescence. She took him by the shoulders and made him face her. + +"Ronnie," she said very earnestly, "if you will only tell me things, and +let me help you where I can, I swear to you--I swear to you most +solemnly--that I will never betray your confidence to Monty, or to any +one else: I know that he would never ask it of me; but even if he +did--even if he did--I would not do it." She spoke so steadfastly, so +loyally, that he was strongly moved. He thrust his arm boyishly round +her. + +"All right, dear old girl, I trust you," he said. "I'll tell you all +about it. As I see you have guessed, there is a bit of a scrape; but it +will be all right in two or three weeks. I've been a fool, and got into +debt again. Baring helped me out once. That's partly why I'm so +particularly anxious that he shouldn't get wind of it this time. Fact +is, I'm very much in Hyde's power for the time being. But, as I say, it +will be all right before long. I've promised to ride his Waler for the +Ghantala Valley Cup next month. It's a pretty safe thing, and if I pull +it off, as I intend to do, everything will be cleared, and I shall be +out of his hands. It's a sort of debt of honour, you see. I can't get +out of it, but I shall be jolly glad when it's over. We'll chuck him +then, if he isn't civil. But till then I'm more or less helpless. So +you'll do your best to tolerate him for my sake, won't you?" + +A great sigh rose from Hope's heart, but she stifled it. Hyde's attitude +of insolent power was explained to her, and she would have given all she +had at that moment to have been free to seek Baring's advice. + +"I'll try, dear," she said. "But I think the less I see of him the +better it will be. Are you quite sure of winning the Cup?" + +"Oh, quite," said Ronnie, with confidence. "Quite. Do you remember the +races we used to have when we were kids? We rode barebacked in those +days. You could stick on anything. Remember?" + +Yes, Hope remembered; and a sudden, almost fierce regret surged up +within her. + +"Oh, Ronnie," she said, "I wish we were kids still!" + +He laughed at her softly, and rose. + +"I know better," he said; "and so does Baring. Good-night, old girl! +Sleep well!" + +And with that he left her. But Hope scarcely slept till break of day. + + + + +VIII + +BEFORE THE RACE + + +Hope had arranged to go to the races with Mrs. Latimer after previously +lunching with her. + +When the day arrived she spent the morning working on the veranda in the +sunshine. It was a perfect day of Indian winter, and under its influence +she gradually forgot her anxieties, and fell to dreaming while she +worked. + +Down below the compound she heard the stream running swiftly between its +banks, with a bubbling murmur like half-suppressed laughter. It was +fuller than she had ever known it. The rains had swelled the river +higher up the valley, and they had opened the sluice-gates to relieve +the pressure upon the dam that had been built there after the disastrous +flood that had drowned the English girl years before. + +Hope loved to hear that soft chuckling between the reeds. It made her +think of an English springtime. The joy of spring was in her veins. She +turned her face to the sunshine with a smile of purest happiness. Only +two months more to the zenith of her happiness! + +There came the sound of a step on the veranda--a stumbling, uncertain +step. She turned swiftly in her chair, and sprang up. Ronnie had +returned to prepare for the race, and she had not heard him. She had not +seen him before that day, and she felt a momentary compunction as she +moved to greet him. And then--her heart stood still. + +He was standing a few paces away, supporting himself against a pillar of +the veranda. His eyes were fixed and heavy, like the eyes of a man +walking in his sleep. He stared at her dully, as if he were looking at a +complete stranger. + +Hope stopped short, gazing at him in speechless consternation. + +After several moments he spoke thickly, scarcely intelligibly. + +"I can't race to-day," he said. "Not well enough. Hyde must find a +substitute." + +He could hardly articulate the last word, but Hope caught his meaning. +The whole miserable tragedy was written up before her in plain, +unmistakable characters. + +But almost as quickly as she perceived it came the thought that no one +else must know. Something must be done, even though it was at the +eleventh hour. + +Her first instinct was to send for Baring, but she thrust it from her. +No! She must find another way. There must be a way out if she were only +quick enough to see it--some way by which she could cover up his +disgrace so that none should know of it. There was a way--surely there +was a way! Ronnie's dull stare became intolerable. She went to him, +bravely, steadfastly. + +"Go and lie down!" she said. "I will see about it for you." + +Something in her own words sent a sudden flash through her brain. She +caught her breath, and her face turned very white. But her steadfastness +did not forsake her. She took Ronnie by the arm and guided him to his +room. + + + + +IX + +THE RACE + + +"Such a pity. Hope can't come!" + +Mrs. Latimer addressed Baring, who had just approached her across the +racecourse. The sun was shining brilliantly, and the scene was very +gay. + +Baring, who had drawn near with a certain eagerness, seemed to stiffen +at her words. + +"Can't come!" he echoed. "Why not?" + +Mrs. Latimer handed him a note. + +"She sent this round half an hour ago." + +Baring read the note with bent brows. It merely stated that the writer +had been working all the morning and was a little tired. Would Mrs. +Latimer kindly understand and excuse her? + +He handed it back without comment. + +"Where is young Carteret?" he asked. "Have you seen him yet?" + +"No," she answered. "Somebody was saying he was late. Ah! There he is, +surely--just going into the weighing-tent. What a superb horse that is +of Mr. Hyde's! Do you think he will win the Cup?" + +Baring thought it likely, but he said it with so preoccupied an air that +Mrs. Latimer smiled, and considerately refrained from detaining him. + +She watched him walk down towards the weighing-tent; but before he +reached it, she saw the figure of young Carteret issue forth at the +farther end, and start off at a run with his saddle on his shoulder +towards the enclosure where the racers were waiting. He was late, and +she thought he looked flurried. + +A few minutes later Baring returned to her. + +"The boy is behindhand, as usual," he remarked. "I didn't get near him. +Time is just up. I hear the Rajah thinks very highly of Hyde's Waler." + +Mrs. Latimer looked across at the Indian Prince who was presenting the +Cup. He was seated in the midst of a glittering crowd of natives and +British officers. She saw that he was closely scanning the restless line +of horses at the starting-point. + +Through her glasses she sought the big black Waler. He was foaming and +stamping uneasily, and she saw that his rider's face was deadly pale. + +"I don't believe Ronnie can be well," she said. "He looks so nervous." + +Baring grunted in a dissatisfied note, but said nothing. + +Another two minutes, and the signal was given. There were ten horses in +the race. It was a fair start, and the excitement in the watching crowd +became at once intense. + +Baring remained at Mrs. Latimer's side. She was on her feet, and +scarcely breathing. The black horse stretched himself out like a +greyhound, galloping splendidly over the shining green of the course. +His rider, crouched low in the saddle, looked as if at any instant he +might be hurled to the earth. + +Baring watched him critically, his jaw set and grim. Obviously, the boy +was not himself, and he fancied he knew the reason. + +"If he pulls it off, it'll be the biggest fluke of his life," he +muttered. + +"Isn't it queer?" whispered Mrs. Latimer. "I never saw young Carteret +ride like that before." + +Baring was silent. He began to think he understood Hope's failure to put +in an appearance. + +Gradually the black Waler drew away from all but two others, who hotly +contested the leadership. He was running superbly, though he apparently +received but small encouragement from his rider. + +As they drew round the curve at the further end of the course, he was +galloping next to the rails. As they finally turned into the straight +run home, he was leading. + +But the horse next to him, urged by his rider, who was also his owner, +made so strenuous an effort that it became obvious to all that he was +gaining upon the Waler. + +A great yell went up of "Carteret! Carteret! Wake up, Carteret! Don't +give it away!" And the Waler's rider, as if startled by the cry, +suddenly and convulsively slashed the animal's withers. + +Through a great tumult of shouting the two horses dashed past the +winning-post. It seemed a dead heat; but, immediately after, the news +spread that Hyde's horse was the winner. The Waler had gained his +victory by a neck. + +Hyde was leading his horse round to the Rajah's stand. His jockey, +looking white and exhausted, sat so loosely in the saddle that he seemed +to sway with the animal's movements. He did not appear to hear the +cheering around him. + +Baring took up his stand near the weighing-tent, and, a few minutes +later, Hyde and his jockey came up together. The boy's cap was dragged +down over his eyes, and he looked neither to right nor left. + +Hyde, perceiving Baring, pushed forward abruptly. + +"I want a word with you," he said. "I've been trying to catch you for +some days past. But first, what did you think of the race?" He coolly +fastened on to Baring's elbow, and the latter had to pause. Hyde's +companion passed swiftly on; and Hyde, seeing the look on Baring's face, +began to laugh. + +"It's all right; you needn't look so starched. The little beggar's been +starving himself for the occasion, and overdone it. He'll pull round +with a little feeding up. Tell me what you thought of the race! Splendid +chap, that animal of mine, eh?" + +He kept Baring talking for several minutes; and, when they finally +parted, his opportunity had gone. + +Baring went into the weighing-tent, but Ronnie was nowhere to be seen. +And he wondered rather grimly as he walked away if Hyde had detained him +purposely to give the boy a chance to escape. + + + + +X + +THE ENEMY'S TERMS + + +It was nearly dark that evening when Hope stood again on the veranda of +the Magician's, bungalow, and listened to the water running through the +reeds. She thought it sounded louder than in the morning--- more +insistent, less mirthful. She shivered a little as she stood there. She +felt lonely; her uncle was away for a couple of days, and Ronnie was in +his room. She was bracing herself to go and rouse him to dress for mess. +Slowly, at last, she turned to go. But at the same instant a voice +called to her from below, and she stopped short. + +"Ah, don't run away!" it said. "I've come on purpose to see you--on a +matter of importance." + +Reluctantly Hope waited. She knew the voice well, and it made her quiver +in every nerve with the instinct of flight. Yet she summoned all her +resolution and stood still, while Hyde calmly mounted the veranda steps +and approached her. He was in riding-dress, and he carried a crop, +walking with all the swaggering insolence that she loathed. + +"There's something I want to say to you," he said. "I can come in, I +suppose? It won't take me long." + +He took her permission for granted, and turned into the drawing-room. +Hope followed him in silence. She could not pretend to this man that his +presence was a pleasure to her. She hated him, and deep in her heart she +feared him as she feared no one else in the world. + +He looked at her with eyes of cynical criticism by the light of the +shaded lamp. She felt that there was something worse than insolence +about him that night--something of cruelty, of brutality even, from +which she was powerless to escape. + +"Come!" he said, as she did not speak. "Doesn't it occur to you that I +have been a particularly good friend to you to-day?" + +Hope faced him steadily. Twice before she had evaded this man, but she +knew that to-night evasion was out of the question. She must confront +him without panic, and alone. + +"I think you must tell me what you mean," she said, her voice very low. + +He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, and then laughed at her--his +abominable, mocking laugh. + +"I have noticed before," he said, "that when a woman finds herself in a +tight corner, she invariably tries to divert attention by asking +unnecessary questions. It's a harmless little stratagem that may serve +her turn. But in this case, let me assure you, it is sheer waste of +time. I hold you--and your brother, also--in the hollow of my hand. And +you know it." + +He spoke slowly, with a confidence from which there was no escape. His +eyes still closely watched her face. And Hope felt again that wild +terror, which only he had ever inspired in her, knocking at her heart. + +She did not ask him a second time what he meant. He had made her realize +the utter futility of prevarication. Instead, she forced herself to +meet his look boldly, and grapple with him with all her desperate +courage. + +"My brother owed you a debt of honour," she said; "and it has been paid. +What more do you want?" + +A glitter of admiration shone for a moment through his cynicism. This +was better than meek surrender. A woman who fought was worth conquering. + +"You are not going to acknowledge, then," he said, "that you--you +personally--are in any way indebted to me?" + +"Certainly not!" The girl's eyes did not flinch before his. Save that +she was trembling, he would scarcely have detected her fear. "You have +done nothing for me," she said. "You only served your own purpose." + +"Oh, indeed!" said Hyde softly. "So that is how you look at it, is it?" + +He moved, and went close to her. Still she did not shrink. She was +fighting desperately--desperately--a losing battle. + +"Well," he said, after a moment, in which she withstood him silently +with all her strength, "in one sense that is true. I did serve my own +purpose. But have you, I wonder, any idea what that purpose of mine +was?" + +He waited, but she did not answer him. She was nearly at the end of her +strength. Hyde did not offer to touch her. He only smiled a little at +the rising panic in her white face. + +"Do you know what I am going to do now?" he said. "I am going to +mess--it's a guest night--and they will drink my health as the winner of +the Ghantala Cup. And then I shall propose someone else's health. Can +you guess whose?" + +She shrank then, shrank perceptibly, painfully, as the victim must +shrink, despite all his resolution, from the hot iron of the torturer. + +Hyde stood for a second longer, watching her. Then he turned. There was +fiendish triumph in his eyes. + +"Good-bye!" he said. + +She caught her breath sharply, spasmodically, as one who suppresses a +cry of pain. And then, before he reached the window, she spoke: + +"Please wait!" + +He turned instantly, and came back to her. + +"Come!" he said. "You are going to be reasonable after all." + +"What is it that you want?" Her desperation sounded in her voice. She +looked at him with eyes of wild appeal. Her defiance was all gone. The +smile went out of Hyde's face, and suddenly she saw the primitive savage +in possession. She had seen it before, but till that moment she had +never realized quite what it was. + +"What do I want?" he said. "I want you, and you know it. That fellow +Baring is not the man for you. You are going to give him up. Do you +hear? Or else--if you prefer it--he will give you up. I don't care which +it is, but one or the other it shall be. Now do we understand one +another?" + +Hope stared at him, speechless, horror-stricken, helpless! + +He came nearer to her, but she did not recoil, for as a serpent holds +its prey, so he held her. She wanted to protest, to resist him fiercely, +but she was mute. Even the power to flee was taken from her. She could +only stand as if chained to the ground, stiff and paralyzed, awaiting +his pleasure. No nightmare terror had ever so obsessed her. The agony of +it was like a searing flame. + +And Hyde, seeing her anguished helplessness, came nearer still with a +sort of exultant deliberation, and put his arm about her as she stood. + +"I thought I should win the trick," he said, with a laugh that seemed to +turn her to ice. "Didn't I tell you weeks ago that I had--Hope?" + +She did not attempt to answer or to resist. Her lips were quite +bloodless. A surging darkness was about her, but yet she remained +conscious--vividly horribly conscious--of the trap that had so suddenly +closed upon her. Through it she saw his face close to her own, with that +sneering, devilish smile about his mouth that she knew so well. And the +eyes with their glittering savagery were mocking her--mocking her. + +Another instant and his lips would have pressed her own. He held her +fast, so fast that she felt almost suffocated. It was the most hideous +moment of her life. And still she could neither move nor protest. It +seemed as if, body and soul, she was his prisoner. + +But suddenly, unexpectedly, he paused. His arms slackened and fell +abruptly from her; so abruptly that she tottered, feeling vaguely for +support. She saw his face change as he turned sharply away. And +instinctively, notwithstanding the darkness that blinded her, she knew +the cause. She put her hand over her eyes and strove to recover herself. + + + + +XI + +WITHOUT DEFENCE + + +When Hope looked up, the silence had become unbearable. She saw Baring +standing quite motionless near the window by which he had entered. He +was not looking at her, and she felt suddenly, crushingly, that she had +become less than nothing in his sight, not so much as a thing, to be +ignored. + +Hyde, quite calm and self-possessed, still stood close to her. But he +had turned his back upon her to face the intruder. And she felt herself +to be curiously apart from them both, almost like a spectator at a play. + +It was Hyde who at last broke the silence when it had begun to torture +her nerves beyond endurance. + +"Perhaps this _rencontre_ is not as unfortunate as it looks at first +sight," he remarked complacently. "It will save me the trouble of +seeking an interview with you to explain what you are now in a position +to see for yourself. I believe a second choice is considered a woman's +privilege. Miss Carteret, as you observe, has just availed herself of +this. And I am afraid that in consequence you will have to abdicate in +my favour." + +Baring heard him out in complete silence. As Hyde ended, he moved +quietly forward into the room. Hope felt him drawing nearer, but she +could not face him. His very quietness was terrible to her, and she was +desperately conscious that she had no weapon of defence. + +She had not thought that he would so much as notice her, but she was +wrong. He passed by Hyde without a glance, and reached her. + +"What am I to understand?" he said. + +She started violently at the sound of his voice. She knew that Hyde had +turned towards her again, but she looked at neither of them. She was +trembling so that she could scarcely stand. Her very lips felt cold, and +she could not utter a word. + +After a brief pause Baring spoke again: "Can't you answer me?" + +There was no anger in his voice, but there was also no kindness. She +knew that he was watching her with a piercing scrutiny, and she dared +not raise her eyes. She shook her head at last, as he waited for her +reply. + +"Are you willing for me to take an explanation from Mr. Hyde?" he +asked; and his tone rang suddenly hard. "Has he the right to explain?" + +"Of course I have the right," said Hyde easily. + +"Tell him so, Hope!" + +Baring bent towards the girl. + +"If he has the right," he said, his voice quiet but very insistent, +"look me in the face--and tell me so!" + +She made a convulsive effort and looked up at him. + +"Yes," she said in a whisper. "He has the right." + +Baring straightened himself abruptly, almost as if he had received a +blow in the face. + +He stood for a second silent. Then: + +"Where is your brother?" he asked. + +Hope hesitated, and at once Hyde answered for her. + +"He isn't back yet. He stopped at the club." + +"That," said Baring sternly, "is a lie." + +He laid his hand suddenly upon Hope's shoulder. + +"Surely you can tell me the truth at least!" he said. + +Something in his tone pierced the wild panic at her heart. She looked up +at him again, meeting the mastery of his eyes. + +"He is in his room," she said. "Mr. Hyde didn't know." + +Hyde laughed, and at the sound the hand on Hope's shoulder closed like a +vice, till she bit her lip with the effort to endure the pain. Baring +saw it, and instantly set her free. + +"Go to your brother," he said, "and ask him to come and speak to me!" + +The authority in his voice was not to be gainsaid. She threw an +imploring look at Hyde, and went. She fled like a wild creature along +the veranda to her brother's room, and tapped feverishly, frantically at +the window. Then she paused listening intently for a reply. But she +could hear nothing save the loud beating of her heart. It drummed in her +ears like the hoofs of a galloping horse. Desperately she knocked again. + +"Let me in!" she gasped. "Let me in!" + +There came a blundering movement, and the door opened. + +"Hullo!" said Ronnie, in a voice of sleepy irritation. "What's up?" + +She stumbled into the dark room, breathless and sobbing. + +"Oh, Ronnie!" she cried. "Oh, Ronnie; you must help me now!" + +He fastened the door behind her, and as she sank down half-fainting in a +chair, she heard him groping for matches on the dressing-table. + +He struck one, and lighted a lamp. She saw that his hand was very shaky, +but that he managed to control it. His face was pale, and there were +deep shadows under his heavy eyes, but he was himself again, and a +thrill of thankfulness ran through her. There was still a chance, still +a chance! + + + + +XII + +THE PENALTY + + +Five minutes later, or it might have been less, the brother and sister +stepped out on to the veranda to go to the drawing-room. They had to +turn a corner of the bungalow to reach it, and the moment they did so +Hope stopped dead. A man's voice, shouting curses, came from the open +window; and, with it, the sound of struggling and the sound of +blows--blows delivered with the precision and regularity of a +machine--frightful, swinging blows that sounded like revolver shots. + +"What is it?" gasped Hope in terror. "What is it?" But she knew very +well what it was; and Ronnie knew, too. + +"You stay here," he said. "I'll go and stop it." + +"No, no!" she gasped back. "I am coming with you; I must." She slipped +her cold hand into his, and they ran together towards the commotion. + +Reaching the drawing-room window, Ronnie stopped, and put the trembling +girl behind him. But he himself did not enter. He only stood still, with +a cowed look on his face, and waited. In the middle of the room, Baring, +his face set and terrible, stood gripping Hyde by the torn collar of his +coat and thrashing him, deliberately, mercilessly, with his own +riding-whip. How long the punishment had gone on the two at the window +could only guess. But it was evident that Hyde was nearing exhaustion. +His face was purple in patches, and the curses he tried to utter came +maimed and broken and incoherent from his shaking lips. He had almost +ceased to struggle in the unwavering grip that held him; he only moved +convulsively at each succeeding blow. + +"Oh, stop him!" implored Hope, behind her brother. "Stop him!" Then, as +he did not move, she pushed wildly past him into the room. + +Baring saw her, and instantly, almost as if he had been awaiting her, +stayed his hand. He did not speak. He simply took Hyde by the shoulders +and half-carried, half-propelled him to the window, through which he +thrust him. + +He returned empty-handed and closed the window. Ronnie had entered, and +was standing by his sister, who had dropped upon her knees by the sofa +and hidden her face in the cushions, sobbing with a pasionate +abandonment that testified to nerves that had given way utterly at last +beneath a strain too severe to be borne. Baring just glanced at her, +then turned his attention to her brother. + +"I have been doing your work for you," he remarked grimly. "Aren't you +ashamed of yourself?" He put his hand upon Ronnie, and twisted him round +to face the light, looking at him piercingly. "Aren't you ashamed of +yourself?" he repeated. + +Ronnie met his eyes irresolutely for a moment, then looked away towards +Hope. She had become very still, but her face remained hidden. There was +something tense about her attitude. After a moment Ronnie spoke, his +voice very low. + +"I suppose you had a reason for what you have just been doing?" + +"Yes," Baring said sternly, "I had a reason. Do you mean me to +understand that you didn't know that fellow to be a blackguard?" + +Ronnie made no answer. He stood like a beaten dog. + +"If you didn't know it," Baring continued, "I am sorry for your +intelligence. If you did, you deserve the same treatment as he has just +received." + +Hope stirred at the words, stirred and moaned, as if she were in pain; +and again momentarily Baring glanced at her. But his face showed no +softening. + +"I mean what I say," he said, turning inexorably to Ronnie. "I told you +long ago that that man was not fit to associate with your sister. You +must have known it for yourself; yet you continued to bring him to the +house. What I have just done was in her defence. Mark that, for--as you +know--I am not in the habit of acting hastily. But there are some +offences that only a horsewhip can punish." He set the boy free with a +contemptuous gesture, and crossed the room to Hope. "Now I have +something to say to you," he said. + +She started and quivered, but she did not raise her head. Very quietly +he stooped and lifted her up. He saw that she was too upset for the +moment to control herself, and he put her into a chair and waited beside +her. After several seconds she slipped a trembling hand into his, and +spoke. + +"Monty," she said, "I have something to say to you first." + +Her action surprised him. It touched him also, but he did not show it. + +"I am listening," he said gravely. + +She looked up at him and uttered a sharp sigh. Then, with an effort, she +rose and faced him. + +"You are very angry with me," she said. "You are going to--to--give me +up." + +His face hardened. He looked back at her with a sternness that sent the +blood to her heart. He said nothing whatever. She went on with +difficulty. + +"But before you do," she said, "I want to tell you that--that--ever +since you asked me to marry you I have loved you--with my whole heart; +and I have never--in thought or deed--been other than true to my love. I +can't tell you any more than that. It is no good to question me. I may +have done things of which you would strongly disapprove, which you would +even condemn, but my heart has always been true to you--always." + +She stopped. Her lips were quivering painfully. She saw that her words +had not moved him to confidence in her, and it seemed as if the whole +world had suddenly turned dark and empty and cold--a place to wander in, +but never to rest. + +A long silence followed that supreme effort of hers. Baring's +eyes--blue, merciless as steel--were fixed upon her in a gaze that +pierced and hurt her. Yet he forced her to endure it. He held her in +front of him ruthlessly, almost cruelly. + +"So I am not to question you?" he said at last. "You object to that?" + +She winced at his tone. + +"Don't!" she said under her breath. "Don't hurt me more--more than you +need!" + +He was silent again, grimly, interminably silent, it seemed to her. And +all the while she felt him doing battle with her, beating down her +resistance, mastering her, compelling her. + +"Hope!" he said at length. + +She looked up at him. Her knees were shaking under her. Her heart was +beginning to whisper that her strength was nearly spent; that she would +not be able to resist much longer. + +"Tell me," he said very quietly, "this one thing only! What is the hold +that Hyde has over you?" + +She shook her head. + +"That is the one thing--" + +"It is the one thing that I must know," he said sternly. + +She was white to the lips. + +"I can't answer you," she said. + +"You must answer me!" He turned her quivering face up to his own. "Do +you hear me, Hope?" he said. "I insist upon your answering me." + +He still spoke quietly, but she was suddenly aware that he was putting +forth his whole strength. It came upon her like a physical, crushing +weight. It overwhelmed her. She hid her face with an anguished cry. He +had conquered her. + +In another moment she would have yielded. Her opposition was dead. But +abruptly, unexpectedly, there came an interruption. Ronnie, very pale, +and looking desperate, came between them. + +"Look here, sir," he said, "you--you are going too far. I can't have my +sister coerced in this fashion. If she prefers to keep this matter to +herself, she must do so. You can't force her to speak." + +Baring released Hope and turned upon him almost violently, but, seeing +the unusual, if precarious, air of resolution with which Ronnie +confronted him, he checked himself. He walked to the end of the room and +back before he spoke. His features were set like a mask when he +returned. + +"You may be right," he said, "though I think it would have been better +for everyone if you had not interfered. Hope, I am going. If you cannot +bring yourself to tell me the whole truth without reservation, there can +be nothing further between us. I fear that, after all, I spoke too soon. +I can enter upon no compact that is not based upon absolute +confidence." + +He spoke coldly, decidedly, without a trace of feeling; and, having +spoken, he went deliberately to the window. There he stood for a few +seconds with his back turned upon the room; then, as the silence +remained unbroken, he quietly lifted the catch and let himself out. + +In the room he left not a word was spoken for many tragic minutes. + + + + +XIII + +THE CURSE OF THE VALLEY + + +Hope had some difficulty in persuading Ronnie to attend mess that night, +though, as a matter of fact, she was longing for solitude. + +He went at last, and she was glad, for a great restlessness possessed +her to which it was a relief to give way. She wandered about the veranda +in the dark after his departure, trying to realize fully what had +happened. It had all come upon her so suddenly. She had been forced to +act throughout without a moment's pause for thought. Now that it was all +over she wanted to collect herself and face the worst. + +Her engagement was at an end. It was mainly that fact that she wished to +grasp. But somehow she found it very difficult. She had grown into the +habit of regarding herself as belonging exclusively and for all time to +Montagu Baring. + +"He has given me up! He has given me up!" she whispered to herself, as +she paced to and fro along the crazy veranda. She recalled the look his +face had worn, the sternness, the pitilessness of his eyes. She had +always felt at the back of her heart that he had it in him to be hard, +merciless. But she had not really thought that she would ever shrink +beneath the weight of his anger. She had trusted blindly to his love to +spare her. She had imagined herself to be so dear to him that she must +be exempt. Others--it did not surprise her that others feared him. But +she--his promised wife--what could she have to fear? + +She paused at the end of the veranda, looking up. The night was full of +stars, and it was very cold. At the bottom of the compound she heard the +water running swiftly. It did not chuckle any more. It had become a +miniature roar. It almost seemed to threaten her. + +She remembered how she had listened to it in the morning, sitting in the +sunshine, dreaming; and her heart suddenly contracted with a pain +intolerable. Those golden dreams were over for ever. He had given her +up. + +Again her restlessness urged her. Cold as it was, she could not bring +herself to go indoors. She descended into the compound, passed swiftly +through it, and began to climb the rough ground of the hill that rose +behind it above the native village. + +The Magician's bungalow looked very ghostly in the starlight. Presently +she paused, and stood motionless, gazing down at it. She remembered +how, when she and her uncle had first come to it, the native servants +had told them of the curse that had been laid upon it; of the evil +spirits that had dwelt there; of voices that had cried in the night! Was +it true, she wondered vaguely? Was it possible for a place to be cursed? + +A faint breeze ran down the valley, stirring the trees to a furtive +whispering. Again, subconsciously, she was aware of the cold, and moved +to return. At the same moment there came a sound like the report of a +cannon half a mile away, followed by a long roar that was unlike +anything she had ever heard--a sound so appalling, so overwhelming, that +for an instant, seized with a nameless terror, she stood as one turned +to stone. + +And then--before the impulse of flight to the bungalow had reached her +brain--the whole terrible disaster burst upon her. Like a monster of +destruction, that which had been a gurgling stream rose above its banks +in a mighty, brown flood, surged like an inrushing sea over the moonlit +compound, and swept down the valley, turning it into a whirling turmoil +of water. + + + + +XIV + +HOW THE TALE WAS TOLD + + +Ronnie Carteret was the subject of a good deal of chaff that night at +mess. The Rajah was being entertained, and he was the only man who paid +the young officer any compliments on the matter of his achievement on +the racecourse. Everyone else openly declared that the horse, and not +its rider, was the one to be congratulated. + +"Never saw anything so ludicrous in my life," one critic said. "He +looked like a rag doll in the saddle. How he managed to stick on passes +me. Is it the latest from America, Ronnie? Leaves something to be +desired, old chap! I should stick to the old style, if I were you." + +Ronnie had no answer for the comments and advice showered upon him from +all sides. He received them all in silence, sullenly ignoring derisive +questions. + +Hyde was not present, to the surprise of every one. All knew that he had +been invited, and there was some speculation upon his non-appearance. + +Baring was there, quiet and self-contained as usual. No one ever chaffed +Baring. It was generally recognized that he did not provide good sport. +When the toasts were over he left the table. + +It was soon after his departure that a sound like a distant explosion +was heard by those in the messroom, causing some discussion there. + +"It's only some fool letting off fireworks," someone said; and as this +seemed a reasonable explanation, no one troubled to enquire further. And +so fully half an hour passed before the truth was known. + +It was Baring who came in with the news, and none who saw it ever +forgot his face as he threw open the messroom door. It was like the face +of a man suddenly stricken with a mortal hurt. + +"Heavens, man! What's the matter?" the colonel exclaimed, at sight of +him. "You look as if--as if--" + +Baring glanced round till his eyes fell upon Ronnie, and, when he spoke, +he seemed to be addressing him alone. + +"The dam has burst," he said, his words curt, distinct, unfaltering. +"The whole of the lower valley is flooded. The Magician's bungalow has +been swept away!" + +"What?" gasped Ronnie. "What?" + +He sprang to his feet, the awful look in Baring's eyes reflected in his +own, and made a dash for the doorway in which Baring stood. He stumbled +as he reached, it and the latter threw out a supporting arm. + +"It's no use your going," he said, his voice hard and mechanical. +"There's nothing to be done. I've been as near as it is possible to get. +It's nothing but a raging torrent half a mile across." + +He moved straight forward to a chair, and thrust the boy down into it. +There was a terrible stiffness--almost a fixity--about him. He did not +seem conscious of the men that crowded round him. It was not his +habitual reserve that kept him from collapse at that moment; it was +rather a stunned sense of expediency. + +"There's nothing to be done," he repeated. + +He looked down at Ronnie, who was clutching at the table with both +hands, and making ineffectual efforts to speak. + +"Give him some brandy, one of you!" he said. + +Someone held a glass against the boy's chattering teeth. The colonel +poured some spirit into another and gave it to Baring. He took it with a +hand that seemed steady, but the next instant it slipped through his +fingers and smashed on the floor. He turned sharply, not heeding it. +Most of the men in the room were on their way out to view the +catastrophe for themselves. He made as if to follow them; then, as if +struck by a sudden thought, he paused. + +Ronnie, deathly pale, and shaking all over, was fighting his way back to +self-control. Baring moved back to him with less of stiffness and more +of his usual strength of purpose. + +"Do you care to come with me?" he said. + +Ronnie looked up at him. Then, though he still shivered violently, he +got up without speaking; and, in silence, they went away together. + + + + +XV + +THE NIGHT OF DESPAIR + + +Not till more than two hours later did Ronnie break his silence. He +would have tramped the hills all night above the flooded valley, but +Baring would not suffer it. He dragged him almost forcibly away from +the scene of desolation, where the water still flowed strongly, carrying +trees and all manner of wreckage on its course. And, though he was +almost beside himself, the boy yielded at last. For Baring compelled +obedience that night. He took Ronnie back to his own quarters, but on +the threshold Ronnie drew back. + +"I can't come in with you," he said. + +Baring's hand was on his shoulder. + +"You must," he answered quietly. + +"I can't," Ronnie persisted, with an effort. "I can't! I'm a cur; I'm +worse. You wouldn't ask me if you knew." + +Baring paused, then, with a strange, unwonted gentleness, he took the +boy's arm and led him in. "Never mind!" he said. + +Ronnie went with him, but in Baring's room he faced him with the courage +of despair. + +"You'll have to know it," he said jerkily. "It was my doing that +you--and she--parted as you did. She was going to tell you the truth. I +prevented her--for my own sake--not hers. I--I came between you." + +Baring's hand fell, but neither his face nor his tone varied as he made +steady reply. + +"I guessed it might be that--afterwards. I was on my way to tell her so +when the dam went." + +"That isn't all," Ronnie went on feverishly. "I'm worse than that, worse +even than she knew. I engaged to ride Hyde's horse to--to discharge a +debt I owed him. I told her it was a debt of honour. It wasn't. It was +to cover theft. I swindled him once, and he found out. I hated riding +his horse, but it would have meant open disgrace if I hadn't. She knew +it was urgent. And then at the last moment I was thirsty; I overdid it. +No; confound it, I'll tell you the truth! I went home drunk, too drunk +to sit a horse. And so she--she sent me to bed, and went in my place. +That's the thing she wouldn't tell you, the thing Hyde knew. She always +hated the man--always. She only endured him for my sake." He broke off. +Baring was looking at him as if he thought that he were raving. After a +moment Ronnie realized this. "It's the truth," he said. "I've told you +the truth. I never won the cup. I didn't know anything more about it +till it was over and she told me. I don't wonder you find it hard to +believe. But I swear it's the truth. Now let me go--and shoot myself!" + +He flung round distractedly, but Baring stopped him. There was no longer +any hardness about him, only compassionate kindness, as he made him sit +down, and gravely shut the door. When he spoke, it was not to utter a +word of reproach or blame. + +"No, don't go, boy!" he said, in a tone that Ronnie never forgot. "We'll +face this thing together. May God help us both!" + +And Ronnie, yielding once more, leaned his head in his hands, and burst +into anguished tears. + + + + +XVI + +THE COMING OF HOPE + + +How they got through the dragging hours of that awful night neither of +them afterwards quite knew. They spoke very little, and slept not at +all. When morning came at last they were still sitting in silence as if +they watched the dead, linked together as brothers by a bond that was +sacred. + +It was soon after sunrise that a message came for Ronnie from the +colonel's bungalow next door to the effect that the commanding-officer +wished to see him. He looked at Baring as he received it. + +"I wish you'd come with me," he said. + +Baring rose at once. He knew that the boy was depending very largely +upon his support just then. The sunshine seemed to mock them as they +went. It was a day of glorious Indian winter, than which there is +nothing more exquisite on earth, save one of English spring. The colonel +met them on his own veranda. He noted Ronnie's haggard face with a quick +glance of pity. + +"I sent for you, my lad," he said, "because I have just heard a piece of +news that I thought I ought to pass on at once." + +"News, sir?" Ronnie echoed the word sharply. + +"Yes; news of your sister." The colonel gave him a keen look, then went +on in a tone of reassuring kindness that both his listeners found +maddeningly deliberate. "She was not, it seems, in the bungalow at the +time the dam burst. She was out on the hillside, and so--My dear fellow, +for Heaven's sake pull yourself together! Things are better than you +think. She--" He did not finish, for Ronnie suddenly sprang past him +with a loud cry. A girl's figure had appeared in the doorway of the +colonel's drawing-room. Ronnie plunged in, and it was seen no more. + +The colonel turned to Baring for sympathy, and found that the latter had +abruptly, almost violently, turned his back. It surprised him +considerably, for he had often declared his conviction that under no +circumstances would this officer of his lose his iron composure. +Baring's behaviour of the night before had seemed to corroborate this; +in fact, he had even privately thought him somewhat cold-blooded. + +But his present conduct seemed to indicate that even Baring was human, +notwithstanding his strength; and in his heart the colonel liked him for +it. After a moment he began to speak, considerately ignoring the other's +attitude. + +"She was providentially on the further hill when it happened, and she +had great difficulty in getting round to us; lost her way several times, +poor girl, and only panic-stricken natives to direct her. It's been a +shocking disaster--the native village entirely swept away, though not +many European lives lost, I am glad to say. But Hyde is among the +missing. You knew Hyde?" + +"I knew him--well." Baring's words seemed to come with an effort. + +"Ah, well, poor fellow; he probably didn't know much about it. Terrible, +a thing of this sort. It's impossible yet to estimate the damage, but +the whole of the lower valley is devastated. The Magician's bungalow has +entirely disappeared, I hear. A good thing the old man was away from +home." + +At this point, to Colonel Latimer's relief, Baring turned. He was paler +than usual, but there was no other trace of emotion about him. + +"If you will allow me," he said, "I should like to go and speak to her, +too." + +"Certainly," the colonel said heartily. "Certainly. Go at once! No doubt +she is expecting you. Tell the youngster I want him out here!" + +And Baring went. + + * * * * * + +If Hope did expect him, she certainly did not anticipate the manner of +his coming. The man who entered the colonel's drawing-room was not the +man who had striven with a mastery that was almost brutal to bring her +into subjection only the day before. She could not have told wherein the +difference lay, but she was keenly aware of its existence. And because +of her knowledge she felt no misgiving, no shadow of fear. She did not +so much as wait for him to come to her. Simply moved by the woman's +instinct that cannot err, she went straight to him, and so into his +arms, clinging to him with a little sobbing laugh, and not speaking at +all, because there were no words that could express what she yet found +it so sublimely easy to tell him. Baring did not speak either, but he +had a different reason for his silence. He only held her closely to him, +till presently, raising her face to his, she understood. And she laughed +again, laughed through tears. + +"Weren't you rather quick to give up--hope?" she whispered. + +He did not answer her, but she found nothing discouraging in his +silence. Rather, it seemed to inspire her. She slipped her arms round +his neck. Her tears were nearly gone. + +"Hope doesn't die so easily," she said softly. "And I'll tell you +another thing that is ever so much harder to kill, that can never die at +all, in fact; or, perhaps I needn't. Perhaps you can guess what it is?" + +And again he did not answer her. He only bent, holding her fast pressed +against his heart, and kissed her fiercely, passionately, even +violently, upon the lips. + +"My Hope!" he said. "My Hope!" + + + + +The Deliverer[1] + + +I + +A PROMISE OF MARRIAGE + + +The band was playing very softly, very dreamily; it might have been a +lullaby. The girl who stood on the balcony of the great London house, +with the moonlight pouring full upon her, stooped, and nervously, +fumblingly, picked up a spray of syringa that had fallen from among the +flowers on her breast. + +The man beside her, dark-faced and grave, put out a perfectly steady +hand. + +"May I have it?" he said. + +She looked up at him with the start of a trapped animal. Her face was +very pale. It was in striking contrast to the absolute composure of his. +Very slowly and reluctantly she put the flower into his outstretched +hand. + +He took it, but he took her fingers also and kept them in his own. + +"When will you marry me, Nina?" he asked. + +She started again and made a frightened effort to free her hand. + +He smiled faintly and frustrated it. + +"When will you marry me?" he repeated. + +She threw back her head with a gesture of defiance; but the courage in +her eyes was that of desperation. + +"If I marry you," she said, "it will be purely and only for your money." + +He nodded. Not a muscle of his face moved. + +"Of course," he said. "I know that." + +"And you want me under those conditions?" + +There was a quiver in the words that might have been either of scorn or +incredulity. + +"I want you under any conditions," he responded quietly. "Marry my money +by all means if it attracts you! But you must take me with it." + +The girl shrank. + +"I can't!" she whispered suddenly. + +He released her hand calmly, imperturbably. + +"I will ask you again to-morrow," he said. + +"No!" she said sharply. + +He looked at her questioningly. + +"No!" she repeated, with a piteous ring of uncertainty in her voice. +"Mr. Wingarde, I say No!" + +"But you don't mean it," he said, with steady conviction. + +"I do mean it!" she gasped. "I tell you I do!" + +She dropped suddenly into a low chair and covered her face with a moan. + +The man did not move. He stared absently down into the empty street as +if waiting for something. There was no hint of impatience about his +strong figure. Simply, with absolute confidence, he waited. + +Five minutes passed and he did not alter his position. The soft strains +in the room behind them had swelled into music that was passionately +exultant. It seemed to fill and overflow the silence between them. Then +came a triumphant crash and it ended. From within sounded the gay buzz +of laughing voices. + +Slowly Wingarde turned and looked at the bent, hopeless figure of the +girl in the chair. He still held indifferently between his fingers the +spray of white blossom for which he had made request. + +He did not speak. Yet, as if in obedience to an unuttered command, the +girl lifted her head and looked up at him. Her eyes were full of misery +and indecision. They wavered beneath his steady gaze. Slowly, still +moving as if under compulsion, she rose and stood before him, white and +slim as a flower. She was quivering from head to foot. + +The man still waited. But after a moment he put out his hand silently. + +She did not touch it, choosing rather to lean upon the balustrade of the +balcony for support. Then at last she spoke, in a whisper that seemed to +choke her. + +"I will marry you," she said--"for your money." + +"I thought you would," Wingarde said very quietly. + +He stood looking down at her bent head and white shoulders. There were +sparkles of light in her hair that shone as precious metal shines in +ore. Her hands were both fast gripped upon the ironwork on which she +leant. + +He took a step forward and was close beside her, but he did not again +offer her his hand. + +"Will you answer my original question?" he said. "I asked--when?" + +In the moonlight he could see her shivering, shivering violently. She +shook her head; but he persisted. + +His manner was supremely calm and unhurried. + +"This week?" he said. + +She shook her head again with more decision. + +"Oh, no--no!" she said. + +"Next?" he suggested. + +"No!" she said again. + +He was looking at her full and deliberately, but she would not look at +him. She was quaking in every limb. There was a pause. Then Wingarde +spoke again. + +"Why not next week?" he asked. "Have you any particular reason?" + +She glanced at him. + +"It would be--so soon," she faltered. + +"What difference does that make?" A very strange smile touched his grim +lips. "Having made up your mind to do something disagreeable, do you +find shirking till the last moment makes it any easier--any more +palatable? Surely the sooner it's over--" + +"It never will be over," she broke in passionately. "It is for all my +life! Ah, what am I saying? Mr. Wingarde"--she turned towards him, her +face quivering painfully--"be patient with me! I have given my promise." + +The smile on his face deepened into something that closely resembled a +sneer. + +"How long do you want me to wait?" he said. "Fifty years?" + +She drew back sharply. But almost instantly he went on speaking. + +"I will yield a point," he said, "if it means so much to you. But, you +know, the wedding-day will dawn eventually, however remote we make it. +Will you say next month?" + +The girl's eyes wore a hunted look, but she kept them raised with +desperate resolution. She did not answer him, however. After a moment he +repeated his question. His face had become stern. The lines about his +mouth were grimly resolute. + +"Will you say next month, Nina?" he said. "It shall be the last day of +it if you wish. But--next month." + +His tone was inexorable. He meant to win this point, and she knew it. + +Her breath came quickly, unevenly; but in face of his mastery she made a +great effort to control her agitation. + +"Very well," she said, and she spoke more steadily than she had spoken +at all during the interview. "I will marry you next month." + +"Will you fix the day?" he asked. + +She uttered a sudden, breathless laugh--the reckless laugh of the loser. + +"Surely that cannot matter!" she said. "The first day or the last--as +you say, what difference does it make?" + +"You leave the choice tome?" he asked, without the smallest change of +countenance. + +"Certainly!" she said coldly. + +"Then I choose the first," he rejoined. + +And at the words she gave a great start as if already she repented the +moment of recklessness. + +The notes of a piano struck suddenly through the almost tragic silence +that covered up the protest she had not dared to utter. A few quiet +chords; and then a woman's voice began to sing. Slowly, with deep, +hidden pathos, the words floated out into the night; and, involuntarily +almost, the man and the girl stood still to listen: + + Shadows and mist and night, + Darkness around the way, + Here a cloud and there a star, + Afterwards, Day! + + Sorrow and grief and tears, + Eyes vainly raised above, + Here a thorn and there a rose; + Afterwards, Love! + +The voice was glorious, the rendering sublime. The spell of the singer +was felt in the utter silence that followed. + +Wingarde's eyes never left his companion's face. But the girl had turned +from him. She was listening, rapt and eager. She had forgotten his very +presence at her side. As the last passionate note thrilled into silence +she drew a long breath. Her eyes were full of tears. + +Suddenly she came to earth--to the consciousness of his watching +eyes--and her expression froze into contemptuous indifference. She +turned her head and faced him, scorning the tears she could not hide. + +In her look were bitter dislike, fierce resistance, outraged pride. + +"Some people," she said, with a little, icy smile, "would prefer to say +'Afterwards, Death!' I am one of them." + +Wingarde looked back at her with complete composure. He also seemed +faintly contemptuous. + +"You probably know as much of the one as of the other," he coolly +responded. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: I desire to acknowledge my indebtedness to the Author--I +regret to say unknown to me--of the little poem which I have quoted in +this story.] + + + + +II + +A RING OF VALUE + + +"So Nina has made up her mind to retrieve the family fortunes," yawned +Leo, the second son of the house. "Uncommonly generous of her. My only +regret is that it didn't occur to her that it would be a useful thing to +do some time back. Is the young man coming to discuss settlements +to-night?" + +"What a beast you are!" growled Burton, the eldest son. + +"We're all beasts, if it comes to that," returned Leo complacently. "May +as well say it as think it. She has simply sold herself to the highest +bidder to get the poor old pater out of Queer Street. And we shall, I +hope, get our share of the spoil. I understand that Wingarde is lavish +with his worldly goods. He certainly ought to be. He's a millionaire of +the first water. A thousand or so distributed among his wife's relations +would mean no more to him than the throwing of the crusts to the +sparrows." He stopped to laugh lazily. "And the wife's relations would +flock in swarms to the feast," he added in a cynical drawl. + +Burton growled again unintelligibly. He strongly resented the sacrifice, +though he could not deny that there was dire need for it. + +The family fortunes were at a very low ebb. His father's lands were +mortgaged already beyond their worth, and he and his brother had been +trained for nothing but a life of easy independence. + +There were five more sons of the family, all at various stages of +education--two at college, three at Eton. It behooved the only girl of +the family to put her shoulder to the wheel if the machine were to be +kept going on its uphill course. Lord Marchmont had speculated +desperately and with disastrous results during the past five years. His +wife was hopelessly extravagant. And, of late, visions of the bankruptcy +court had nearly distracted the former. + +It had filtered round among his daughter's admirers that money, not +rank, would win the prize. But somehow no one had expected Hereford +Wingarde, the financial giant, to step coolly forward and secure it for +himself. He had been regarded as out of the running. Women did not like +him. He was scarcely ever seen in Society. And it was freely rumoured +that he hated women. + +Nina Marchmont, moreover, had always treated him with marked coldness, +as if to demonstrate the fact that his wealth held no attractions for +her. On the rare occasions that they met she was always ready to turn +aside with half-contemptuous dislike on her proud face, and amuse +herself with the tamest of her worshippers rather than hold any +intercourse with the fabulous monster of the money-markets. + +Certainly there was a surprise in store for the world in which she +moved. It was also certain that she meant to carry it through with rigid +self-control. + +Meeting her two brothers at lunch, she received the half-shamed +congratulations of one and the sarcastic comments of the other without +the smallest hint of discomfiture. She had come straight from an +interview with her father whom she idolized, and his gruff: "Well, my +dear, well; delighted that you have fallen in love with the right man," +and the unmistakable air of relief that had accompanied the words, had +warmed her heart. + +She had been very anxious about her father of late. The occasional heart +attacks to which he was subject had become much more frequent, and she +knew that his many embarrassments and perplexities were weighing down +his health. Well, that anxiety was at least lightened. She would be able +to help in smoothing away his difficulties. Surely the man of millions +would place her in a position to do so! He had almost undertaken to do +so. + +The glad thought nerved her to face the future she had chosen. She was +even very faintly conscious of a mitigation of her antipathy for the man +who had made himself her master. Besides, even though married to him, +she surely need not see much of him. She knew that he spent the whole of +his day in the City. She would still be free to spend hers as she +listed. + +And so, when she saw him that evening, when his momentous interview with +her father was over, she was moved to graciousness for the first time. A +passing glimpse of her father's face assured her that all had gone well, +aye, more than well. + +As for Wingarde, he waived the money question altogether when he found +himself alone with his _fiancee_. + +"Your father will tell you what provision I am prepared to make for +you," he coldly said. "He is fully satisfied--on your behalf." + +She felt the sting of the last words, and flushed furiously. But she +found no word of indignation to utter, though in a moment her +graciousness was a thing of the past. + +"I have not deceived you," she said, speaking with an effort. + +He gave her a keen look. + +"I don't think you could," he rejoined quietly. "And I certainly +shouldn't advise you to try." + +And then to her utter surprise and consternation he took her shoulders +between his hands. + +"May I kiss you?" he asked. + +There was not a shade of emotion to be detected in either face or voice +as he made the request. Yet Nina drew back from him with a shudder that +she scarcely attempted to disguise. + +"No!" she said vehemently. + +He set her free instantly, and she thought he smiled. But the look in +his eyes frightened her. She felt the mastery that would not compel. + +"One more thing," he said, calmly passing on. "It is usual for a girl in +your position to wear an engagement ring. I should like you to wear this +in my honour." + +He held out to her on the palm of his hand a little, old-fashioned ring +set with rubies and pearls. Nina glanced at him in momentary surprise. +It was not in the least what she would have expected as the rich man's +first gift. Involuntarily she hesitated. She felt that he had offered +her something more than mere precious stones set in gold. + +He waited for her to take the ring in absolute silence. + +"Mr. Wingarde," she said nervously, "I--I am afraid it is something you +value." + +"It is," he said. "It belonged to my mother. In fact, it was her +engagement ring. But why should you be afraid?" + +For the first time there was a note of softness in his voice. + +Nina's face was burning. + +"I would rather have something you do not care about," she said in a low +tone. + +Instantly his face grew hard. + +"Give me your hand!" he said shortly. "The left, please!" + +She gave it, the flush dying swiftly from her cheeks. She could not +control its trembling as he deliberately fitted the ring on to the third +finger. + +"Understand," he said, "that I wish this ring and no other to be the +token of your engagement to me. If you object to it, I am sorry. But, +after all, it will only be in keeping with the rest. I must go now as I +have an appointment to keep. Your father has asked me to lunch on Sunday +and I have accepted. I hope you will pay me the compliment of being at +home." + + + + +III + +THE HONEYMOON + + +The first of June fell on a Saturday that year, and a good many people +remained in town for it in order to be present at the wedding of Lord +Marchmont's only daughter to Hereford Wingarde, the millionaire. + +Comments upon Nina's choice had even yet scarcely died out, and Archie +Neville, her faithful friend and admirer, was still wondering why he and +his very comfortable income had been passed over for this infernal +bounder whom no one knew. He had proposed to Nina twice, and on each +occasion her refusal had seemed to him to be tinged with regret. To use +his own expression, he was "awfully cut up" by the direction affairs had +taken. But, philosophically determined to make the best of it, he +attended the wedding with a smiling face, and even had the audacity to +kiss the bride--a privilege that had not been his since childhood. + +Hereford Wingarde, standing by his wife's side, the recipient of +congratulations from crowds of people who seemed to be her intimate +friends, but whom he had never seen before, noted that salute of Archie +Neville's with a very slight lift of his black brows. He noted also that +Nina returned it, and that her hand lingered in that of the young man +longer than in those of any of her other friends. It was a small +circumstance, but it stuck in his memory. + +A house had been lent them for the honeymoon by one of Nina's wealthy +friends in the Lake District. They arrived there hard upon midnight, +having dined on board the train. + +A light meal awaited them, to which they immediately sat down. + +"You are tired," Wingarde said, as the lamplight fell upon his bride's +flushed face and bright eyes. + +His own eyes were critical. She laughed and turned aside from them. + +"I am not at all tired," she said. "I am only sorry the journey is over. +I miss the noise." + +He made no further comment. He had a disconcerting habit of dropping +into sudden silences. It took possession of him now, and they finished +their refreshment with scarcely a word. + +Then Nina rose, holding her head very high. He embarrassed her, and she +strongly resented being embarrassed. + +Wingarde at once rose also. He looked more massive than usual, almost as +if braced for a particular effort. + +"Going already?" he said. "Good-night!" + +"Good-night!" said Nina. + +She glanced at him with momentary indecision. Then she held out her +hand. + +He took it and kept it. + +"I think you will have to kiss me on our wedding night," he said. + +She turned very white. The hunted look had returned to her eyes. She +answered him with the rapidity of desperation. + +"You can do as you like with me now," she said. "I am not able to +prevent you." + +"You mean you would rather not?" he said, without the smallest hint of +anger or disappointment in his tone. + +She started a little at the question. There was no escaping the +searching of his eyes. + +"Of course I would rather not," she said. + +He released her quivering hand and walked quietly to the door. + +"Good-night, Nina!" he said, as he opened it. + +She stood for a moment before she realized that he had yielded to her +wish. Then, as he waited, she made a sudden impulsive movement towards +him. + +Her fingers rested for an instant on his arm. + +"Good-night--Hereford!" she said. + +He looked down at her hand, not offering to touch it. His lips relaxed +cynically. + +"Don't overwhelm me!" he said. + +And in a flash she had passed him with blazing eyes and a heart that was +full of fierce anger. So this was his reception of her first overture! +Her cheeks burnt as she vowed to herself that she would attempt no more. + +She did not see her husband again that night. + +When they met in the morning, he seemed to have forgotten that they had +parted in a somewhat strained atmosphere. The only peculiarity about +his greeting was that it did not seem to occur to him to shake hands. + +"There is plenty to do if you're feeling energetic," he said. 'Driving, +riding, mountaineering, boating; which shall it be?" + +"Have you no preference?" she asked, as she faced him over the +coffee-urn. + +He smiled slightly. + +"Yes, I have," he said. "But let me hear yours first!" + +"Driving," she said at once. "And now yours?" + +"Mine was none of these things," he answered. "I wonder what sort of +conveyance they can provide us with? Also what manner of horse? Are you +going to drive or am I? Mind, you are to state your preference." + +"Very well," she answered. "Then I'll drive, please, I know this country +a little. I stayed near here three years ago with the Nevilles. Archie +and I used to fish." + +"Did you ever catch anything?" Wingarde asked, with his quiet eyes on +her face. + +"Of course we did," she answered. "Salmon trout--beauties. Oh, and other +things. I forget what they were called. We had great fun, I remember." + +Her face flushed at the remembrance. Archie had been very romantic in +those days, quite foolishly so. But somehow she had enjoyed it. + +Wingarde said no more. He rose directly the meal was over. It was a +perfect summer morning. The view from the windows was exquisite. Beyond +the green stretches of the park rose peak after peak of sunlit +mountains. There were a few cloud-shadows floating here and there. In +one place, gleaming like a thread of silver, he could see a waterfall +tumbling down a barren hillside. + +Suddenly, through the summer silence, an octave of bells pealed +joyously. + +Nina started + +"Why, it's Sunday!" she exclaimed. "I had quite forgotten. We ought to +go to church." + +Wingarde turned round. + +"What an inspiration!" he said dryly. + +His tone offended her. She drew herself up. + +"Are you coming?" she asked coldly. + +He looked at her with the same cynical smile with which he had received +her overture the night before. + +"No," he said. "I won't bore you with my company this morning." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"As you please," she said, turning to the door. + +He made no rejoinder. And as she passed out, she realized that he +believed she had suggested going to church in order to escape an hour of +his hated society. It was but a slight injustice and certainly not +wholly unprovoked by her. But, curiously, she resented it very strongly. +She almost felt as if he had insulted her. + +She found him smoking in the garden when she returned from her solitary +expedition, and she hoped savagely that he had found his own society as +distasteful as she did; though on second thoughts this seemed scarcely +possible. + +She decided regretfully, yet with an inner sense of expediency, that she +would spend the afternoon in his company. But her husband had other +plans. + +"You have had a hot walk," he said. "You had better rest this afternoon. +I am going to do a little mountaineering; but I mean to be back by +tea-time. Perhaps when it is cool you will come for a stroll, unless you +have arranged to attend the evening service also." + +He glanced at her and saw the indignant colour rise in her face. But she +was too proud to protest. + +"As you wish," she said coldly. + +Conversation during lunch was distinctly laboured. Wingarde's silences +were many and oppressive. It was an unspeakable relief to the girl when +at length he took himself off. She told herself with a wry smile that he +was getting on her nerves. She did not yet own that he frightened her. + +The afternoon's rest did her good; and when he returned she was ready +for him. + +He looked at her, as she sat in the garden before the tea-table in her +muslin dress and big straw hat, with a shade of approval in his eyes. + +He threw himself down into a chair beside her without speaking. + +"Have you been far?" she asked. + +"To the top of the hill," he answered. "I had a splendid view of the +sea." + +"It must have been perfect," she said. + +"You have been there?" he asked. + +"Oh, yes," she answered, "long ago; with Archie." + +Wingarde turned his head and looked at her attentively. She tried to +appear unconscious of his scrutiny, and failed signally. Before she +could control it, the blood had rushed to her face. + +"And you found it worth doing?" he asked. + +The question seemed to call for no reply, and she made none. + +But yet again she felt as if he had insulted her. + +She was still burning with silent resentment when they started on their +walk. He strolled beside her, cool and unperturbed. If he guessed her +mood, he made no sign. + +"Where are you taking me?" he asked presently. + +"It is the road to the wishing-gate," she replied icily. "There is a +good view of the lake farther on." + +He made no further enquiry, and they walked on in dead silence through +exquisite scenery. + +They reached the wishing-gate, and the girl stopped almost +involuntarily. + +"Is this the fateful spot?" said Wingarde, coming suddenly out of his +reverie. "What is the usual thing to do? Cut our names on the gate-post? +Rather a low-down game, I always think." + +She uttered a sudden, breathless laugh. "My name is here already," she +said, pointing with a finger that shook slightly at some minute +characters cut into the second bar of the gate. + +He bent and looked at the inscription--two names cut with infinite care, +two minute hearts intertwined beneath. + +Nina watched him with a scornful little smile on her lips. + +"Artistic, isn't it?" she said. + +He straightened himself abruptly, and their eyes met. There was a +curious glint in his that she had never seen before. She put her hand +sharply to her throat. Quite suddenly she knew that she was afraid of +this monster to whom she had given herself--horribly, unreasonably +afraid. + +But he did not speak, and her scare began to subside. + +"Now I'm going to wish," she said mounting the lowest bar of the gate. + +He spoke then, abruptly, cynically. + +"Really," he said, "what can you have to wish for now?" + +She looked back at him defiantly. Her eyes were on a level with his. +Because he had frightened her, she went the more recklessly. It would +never answer to let him suspect this power of his. + +"Something that I'm afraid you will never give me," she said, a bitter +ring in her voice. + +"What?" he asked sharply. + +"Among other things, happiness," she said. "You can never give me +that." + +She saw him bite his lip, but he controlled himself to speak quietly. + +"Surely you make a mistake," he said, "to wish for something which, +since you are my wife, can never be yours!" + +She laughed, still standing on the gate, and telling herself that she +felt no fear. + +"Very well," she said, "I will wish for a Deliverer first." + +"For what?" + +His naked fist banged down upon the gate-post, and she saw the blood +start instantly and begin to flow. She knew in that moment that she had +gone too far. + +Her fear returned in an overwhelming flood. She stumbled off the gate +and faced him, white to the lips. + +A terrible pause followed, in which she knew herself to be fighting him +with every inch of her strength. Then suddenly, without apparent reason, +she gave in. + +"I was joking," she said, in a low voice. "I spoke in jest." + +He made her a curt bow, his face inflexibly stern. + +"It is good of you to explain," he said. "With my limited knowledge of +your character and motives, I am apt to make mistakes." + +He turned from her abruptly with the words, and, shaking the blood from +his hand, bound the wound with his handkerchief. + +"Shall we go on?" he said then. + +And Nina accompanied him, ashamed and afraid. She felt as if at the last +moment she had asked for quarter; and, contemptuously, because she was a +woman, he had given it. + + + + +IV + +A GREVIOUS WOUND + + +After that moment of madness by the wishing-gate Nina's wanton desire to +provoke to wrath the monster to whom she was chained died a sudden and +unnatural death. She was scrupulously careful of his feelings from that +day forward, and he treated her with a freezing courtesy, a cynical +consideration, that seemed to form a barrier behind which the actual man +concealed himself and watched. + +That he did watch her was a fact of which she was miserably conscious. +She knew with the certain knowledge of intuition that he studied her +continually. She was perpetually under the microscope of his criticism, +and there were times when she told herself she could not bear it. He was +too much for her; too pitiless a tyrant, too stern a master. Her life +was becoming insupportable. + +A fortnight of their honeymoon had passed away, when one morning +Wingarde looked up with a frown from a letter. + +"I have had a summons to town," he said abruptly. + +Nina's heart leapt at the words, and her relief showed itself for one +unmanageable second in her face. + +He saw it, and she knew he saw it. + +"I shall be sorry," he said, with cutting sarcasm, "to curtail your +enjoyment here, but the necessity for my presence is imperative. I +should like to catch the two-thirty this afternoon if you can be ready +by then." + +Nina's face was burning. She held herself very erect. + +"I can be ready before then if you wish," she said stiffly. + +He rose from the breakfast-table with a curt laugh. As he passed her he +flicked her cheek with the envelope he held in his hand. + +"You are a dutiful wife, my dear," he said. + +She winced sharply, and bent her head over her own letters. + +"I do my best," she said, after a moment. + +"I am sure of it," he responded dryly. + +He paused at the door as if he expected her to say more. More came, +somewhat breathlessly, and not upon the same subject. + +Nina glanced up with sudden resolution. + +"Hereford," she said, "can you let me have some money?" + +She spoke with the rapidity of nervousness. She saw his hand leave the +door. His face remained quite unmoved. + +"For yourself?" he asked. + +Considering the amount of the settlement he had made upon her, the +question was absurd. Nina smiled faintly. + +"No," she said, "not for myself." + +He took a cheque-book from his pocket and walked to a writing-table. + +"How much do you want?" he asked. + +She hesitated, and he looked round at her. + +"I--I only want to borrow it," she said haltingly. "It is rather a big +sum." + +"How much?" he repeated. + +"Five thousand pounds," she answered, in a low voice. + +He continued to look at her for several seconds. Finally he turned and +shut up his cheque-book with a snap. + +"The money will be placed to your credit to-morrow," he said. "But +though a financier, I am not a money-lender. Please understand that! And +let your family understand it, too." + +And, rising, he walked straight from the room. + +No further reference was made to the matter on either side. Nina's pride +or her courage shrank from any expression of gratitude. + +In the afternoon with intense thankfulness she travelled southward. +Never were London smoke and dust more welcome. + +They went straight to Wingarde's great house in Crofton Square. Dinner +was served immediately upon their arrival. + +"I must ask you to excuse me," Wingarde said, directly dessert was +placed upon the table. "I have to go out--on business. In case I don't +see you again, good-night!" + +He was on his feet as he spoke. In her surprise Nina started up also. + +"At this hour!" she exclaimed. "Why, it is nearly eleven!" + +"At this hour," he grimly responded, "you will be able to dispense with +my society no doubt." + +His tone silenced her. Yet, as he turned to go, she looked after him +with mute questioning in her eyes. She had a feeling that he was keeping +something from her, and--perhaps it was merely the natural result of +womanly curiosity baffled--she was vaguely hurt that he did not see fit +to tell her whither his business was taking him. + +A few words would have sufficed; but he had not chosen to utter them, +and her pride was sufficient to suppress any display of interest in his +affairs. She would not court the snub that she felt convinced he would +not hesitate to administer. + +So he left her without explanation, and Nina went drearily to bed. On +the following morning, however, the sun shone upon her, and she went +downstairs in better spirits. + +The first person she encountered was her husband. He was sauntering +about the morning-room in his overcoat, a cup of strong tea in his hand. + +He greeted her perfunctorily, as his fashion was. + +"Oh, good-morning!" he said. "I have only just got back. I was detained +unavoidably. I am going upstairs for an hour's rest, and then I shall +be off to the City. I don't know if you would care to drive in with me. +I shall use the car, but it will then be at your service for the rest of +the day." + +"Have you been working all night?" Nina asked incredulously. + +He nodded. + +"It was unavoidable," he said again, with a touch of impatience. "You +had better have a second brew of tea, this is too strong for you." + +He set down his cup and rang the bell. + +Nina stood and looked at him. He certainly did not look like a man who +had been up all night. Alert, active, tough as wire, he walked back to +the table and gathered together his letters. A faint feeling of +admiration stirred in her heart. His, strength appealed to her for the +first time. + +"I should like to drive into the City with you," she said, after a +pause. + +He gave her a sharp glance. + +"I thought you would be wanting to go to the bank," he remarked coolly. + +She flushed and turned her back upon him. It was an unprovoked assault, +and she resented it fiercely. + +When they met again an hour later she was on the defensive, ready to +resist his keenest thrust, and, seeing it, he laughed cynically. + +"Armed to the teeth?" he asked, with a careless glance at her slim +figure and delicate face. + +She did not answer him by so much as a look. He handed her into the car +and took his seat beside her. + +"Can you manage to dine out with some of your people to-night?" he +asked. "I am afraid I shall not be home till late." + +"You seem to have a great deal on your hands," she remarked coldly. + +"Yes," said Wingarde. + +It was quite obvious that he had no intention of taking her into his +confidence, and Nina was stubbornly determined to betray no interest. +Then and there she resolved that since he chose to give himself up +entirely to the amassing of wealth, not hesitating to slight his wife in +the process, she also would live her separate life wholly independent of +his movements. + +She pretended to herself that she would make the most of it. But deep in +her heart she hated him for thus setting her aside. His action pierced +straight through her pride to something that sheltered behind it, and +inflicted a grevious wound. + + + + +V + +A STRUGGLE FOR MASTERY + + +"Jove! Here's a crush!" laughed Archie Neville. "Delighted to meet you +again, Mrs. Wingarde! How did you find the Lakes?" + +His good-looking, boyish face was full of pleasure. He had not expected +to meet her. Nina's welcoming smile was radiant. + +"Oh, here you are, Archie!" she exclaimed, as they shook hands. "Someone +said you were out of town, but I couldn't believe anything so tragic." + +"Quite right," said Archie. "Never believe the worst till there is +positively no alternative. I'm not out of town, and I'm not going to be. +It's awfully nice to see you again, you know! I thought the sun had set +for the rest of the season." + +Nina uttered a gay little laugh. + +"Oh, dear, no! We certainly intended to stay longer, but Hereford was +summoned back on business, and I really wasn't sorry on the whole. I did +rather regret missing all the fun." + +Archie laughed. + +"Hereford must be doing dark deeds then," he said, "of which he keeps +the rest of the world in complete ignorance. The markets are dead flat +just now--nothing doing whatever. It's enough to make you tear your +hair." + +"Really!" said Nina. "He gave me to understant that it was something +urgent." + +And then she became suddenly silent, meeting Archie's eyes, and aware of +the surprise he was too much of a gentleman to express. With a cold +feeling of dissatisfaction she turned from the subject. + +"It's very nice to be back again among my friends," she said. "Can't you +come and dine to-morrow and go to the theatre afterwards?" + +Archie considered a moment, and she knew that when he answered he was +cancelling other engagements. + +"Thanks, I shall be delighted!" he said, "if I shan't be _de trop_." + +There was a touch of mockery in Nina's smile. + +"We shall probably be alone," she said. "My husband's business keeps him +late in the City. We have been home a week, and he has only managed to +dine with me once." + +"Isn't he here to-night?" asked Archie. + +She shook her head. + +"What an infernal shame!" he exclaimed impulsively. "Oh, I beg your +pardon! That was a slip." + +But Nina laid her hand on his sleeve. + +"You needn't apologize," she said, in a low voice. "One can't have +everything. If you marry--an outsider--for his money, you have to pay +the penalty." + +Archie looked at her with further indiscretion upon the tip of his +tongue. But he thought twice and kept it back. + +"I say, you know," he said awkwardly, "I--I'm sorry." + +"Thank you," she said gently. "Well, you will come to-morrow?" + +"Of course," he said. "What theatre shall we go to? I'll bring the +tickets with me." + +The conversation drifted away into indifferent topics and presently they +parted. Nina was almost gay of heart as she drove homeward that night. +She had begun to feel her loneliness very keenly, and Archie's society +promised to be of value. + +Her husband was waiting for her when she returned. As she entered her +own sitting-room, he started up abruptly from an arm-chair as if her +entrance had suddenly roused him from sleep. She was considerably +surprised to see him there, for he had never before intruded without her +permission. + +He glanced at the clock, but made no comment upon the lateness of the +hour. + +"I hope you have enjoyed yourself," he said somewhat formally. + +The words were as unexpected as was his presence there. Nina stood for a +moment, waiting for something further. + +Then, as he did not speak, she shrugged her shoulders and threw back her +cloak. + +"It was a tremendous crush," she said indifferently. "No, I didn't enjoy +it particularly. But it was something to do." + +"I am sorry you are feeling bored," he said gravely. + +Nina sat down in silence. She did not in the least understand what had +brought him there. + +"It is getting rather late," she remarked, after a pause. "I am just +going to have a cup of tea and then go to bed." + +A little tea-tray stood on the table at her elbow. A brass kettle was +fizzing cheerily above a spirit stove. + +"Do you want a cup?" she asked, with a careless glance upwards. + +He had remained standing, looking down at her with an expression that +puzzled her slightly. His eyes were heavy, as if they wanted sleep. + +"Thank you," he said. + +Nina threw off her wraps and sat up to brew the tea. The light from a +rose-shaded lamp poured full upon her. She looked superb and she knew +it. The knowledge deprived her for once of that secret sense of fear +that so brooded at the back of her intercourse with this man. He stood +in total silence behind her. She began to wonder what was coming. + +Having made tea, she leant back again with her hands behind her head. + +"I suppose we must give it two minutes to draw," she remarked, with a +smothered yawn. "Isn't it frightfully hot to-night? I believe there is +thunder about." + +He made no response, and she turned her eyes slowly upon him. She knew +he was watching her, but a curious sense of independence possessed her +that night. He did not disconcert her. + +Their eyes met. Hers were faintly insolent. His were inscrutable. + +At last he spoke. + +"I am sorry you have not enjoyed yourself," he said, speaking rather +stiffly. "Will you--by way of a change--come out with me to-morrow +night? I think I may anyhow promise you"--he paused slightly--"that you +shall not be bored." + +There was a short silence. Nina turned and moved the cups on the little +tray. She did not, however, seem embarrassed. + +"I happen to be engaged to-morrow evening," she said coldly at length. + +"Is it important?" he asked. "Can't you cancel the engagement?" + +She uttered a little, flippant laugh. She had not hoped for such an +opportunity as this. + +"I'm afraid I really can't," she said. "You should have asked me +earlier." + +"What are you going to do?" + +There was a new note in his voice--a hint of mastery. She resented it +instantly. + +"That is my affair," she said calmly, beginning to pour out the tea. + +He looked at her as if he scarcely believed his ears. He was silent for +some seconds, and very quietly she turned to him and handed him a cup. + +He took it from her and instantly set it aside. + +"Be good enough to answer my question!" he said. + +She heard the gathering sternness in his tone, and, tea-cup in hand, she +laughed. A curious recklessness possessed her that night. She felt as if +she had the strength to fling off the bands of tyranny. But her heart +had begun to beat very fast. She realized that this was no mere +skirmish. + +"Why should I answer you?" she asked, helping herself to some more cream +with a hand that was slightly unsteady in spite of her effort to +control it. "I do not see the necessity." + +"I think you do," he rejoined. + +Nina said no more. She swallowed her tea, nibbled at a wafer with a +species of deliberate trifling calculated to proclaim aloud her utter +fearlessness, and at length rose to go. + +In that moment her husband stepped forward and took her by the +shoulders. + +"Before you leave this room, please," he said quietly. + +She drew back from him in a blaze of indignant rebellion. + +"I will not!" she said. "Let me go instantly!" + +His hold tightened. His face was more grim than she had ever seen it. +His eyes seemed to beat hers down. Yet when he spoke he did not raise +his voice. + +"I have borne a good deal from you, Nina," he said. "But there is a +limit to every man's endurance." + +"You married me against my will," she panted. "Do you think I have not +had anything to endure, too?" + +"That accusation is false," he said. "You married me of your own accord. +Without my money, you would have passed me by with scorn. You know it." + +She began to tremble violently. + +"Do you deny that?" he insisted pitilessly. + +"At least you pressed me hard," she said. + +"I did," he replied. "I saw you meant to sell yourself. And I did not +mean you to go to any scoundrel." + +"So you bought me for yourself?" she said, with a wild laugh. + +"I did." Wingarde's voice trembled a little. "I paid your price," he +said, "and I have taken very little for it. You have offered me still +less. Now, Nina, understand! This is not going on for ever. I simply +will not bear it. You are my wife, sworn to obey me--and obey me you +shall." + +He held her fast in front of him. She could feel the nervous strength of +his hands. It thrilled her through and through. She felt like a trapped +animal in his grasp. Her resistance began to waver. + +"What are you going to do?" she asked. + +"I am going to conquer you," he said grimly. + +"You won't do it by violence," she returned quickly. + +Her words seemed to pierce through a weak place in the iron armour in +which he had clad himself. Abruptly he set her free. + +The suddenness of his action so surprised her that she tottered a +little. He made a swift move towards her; but in a second she had +recovered herself, and he drew back. She saw that his face was very +pale. + +"Are you quite sure of that?" he asked. + +She did not answer him. Shaking from head to foot, she stood facing him. +But words would not come. + +After a desperate moment the tension was relaxed. He turned on his heel. + +"Well, I have warned you," he said, and strode heavily away. + +The moment she ceased to hear his footsteps, Nina sank down into a chair +and burst into tears. + + + + +VI + +AN OFFER OF HELP + + +On the following morning Nina did not descend the stairs till she had +heard the car leave the house. The strain of the previous night's +interview had told upon her. She felt that she had not the resolution to +face such another. + +The heat was intense. She remembered with regret that she had promised +to attend a charitable bazaar in the City that afternoon. Somehow she +could summon no relish either for that or the prospect of the theatre +with Archie at night. She wondered whither her husband had proposed to +take her, half wishing she had yielded a point to go. + +She went to the bazaar, fully prepared to be bored. The first person she +saw, however, was Archie, and at once the atmosphere seemed to lighten. + +He attached himself to her without a moment's delay. + +"I say," he said, "send your car back! I'll take you home. I've got my +hansom here. It's much more exciting than a motor. We'll go and have +tea somewhere presently." + +Nina hesitated for barely a second, then did as he required. + +Archie's eyes were frankly tender. But, after all, why not? They had +known each other all their lives. She laughed at the momentary scruple +as they strolled through the bazaar together. + +Archie bought her an immense fan--"to keep off the flies," as he +elegantly expressed it; and she made a few purchases herself as in duty +bound, and conversed with several acquaintances. + +Then, her companion becoming importunate for departure, she declined tea +in the hall and went away with him. + +Archie was enjoying himself hugely. + +"Now, where would you like to go for tea?" he asked as they drove away. + +"I don't care in the least," she said, "only I'm nearly dead. Let it be +somewhere close at hand." + +Archie promptly decided in favour of a tea-shop in St. Paul's +Churchyard. + +"I suppose you have read the morning papers?" he said, as they sat down. +"I thought your husband had something up his sleeve." + +"What do you mean?" queried Nina quickly. "No, I know nothing." + +Archie laughed. + +"Don't you really? Well, he has made a few thousands sit up, I can tell +you. You've heard of the Crawley gold fields? Heaven knows where they +are, but that doesn't matter--somewhere in Australia of course. No one +knew anything about them till recently. Well, they were boomed +tremendously a little while ago. Your husband was the prime mover. He +went in for them largely. Everyone went for them. They held for a bit, +then your husband began to sell as fast as he could. And then, of +course, the shares went down to zero. People waited a bit, then +sold--for what they could get. No one knew who did the buying till +yesterday. My dear Nina, your husband has bought the lot. He has got the +whole concern into his hands for next to nothing. The gold fields have +turned up trumps. They stand three times as high as they ever did +before. He was behind the scenes. He merely sold to create a slump. If +he chose to sell again he could command almost any price he cared to +ask. Well, one man's loss is another man's gain. But he's as rich as +Croesus. They say there are a good many who would like to be at his +throat." + +Nina listened with disgust undisguised on her face. + +"How I loathe money!" she said abruptly. + +"Oh, I say!" protested Archie. "You're not such an extremist as that. +Think of the host of good things that can't be done without it." + +"What good things does he do?" she demanded contemptuously. "He simply +lives to heap up wealth." + +"You can't say for certain that he doesn't do a few decent things when +no one's looking," suggested Archie, who liked to be fair, even to those +for whom he felt no liking. "People--rich men like that--do, you know. +Why, only last night I heard of a man--he's a West End physician--who +runs a sort of private hospital somewhere in the back slums, and +actually goes and practises there when his consulting hours are over. +Pure philanthropy that, you know. And no one but the slummers any the +wiser. They say he's simply adored among them. They go to him in all +their troubles, physical or otherwise. That's only an instance. I don't +say your husband does that sort of thing. But he may." + +Nina uttered her bitter little laugh. + +"You always were romantic, Archie," she said. "But I'm afraid I'm past +the romantic age. Anyhow I'm an unbeliever." + +Archie gave her a keen look. + +"I say--" he said, and stopped. + +"Well?" Nina looked back at him questioningly. + +"I beg your pardon," he said, colouring boyishly. "You won't like what I +was going to say. I think I won't say it." + +"You needn't consider my feelings," she returned, "I assure you I am not +used to it." + +"Oh, well," he said. "I was going to say that you talk as if he were a +beast to you. Is he?" + +Nina raised her dark eyebrows and did not instantly reply. Archie +looked away from her. He felt uncomfortably that he had gone too far. + +Then slowly she made answer: + +"No, he is not. I think he has begun to realize that the battle is not +always to the strong." + +Struck by something in her tone, Archie glanced at her again. + +"Jove!" he suddenly said. "How you hate him!" + +The words were out almost before he knew it. Nina's face changed +instantly. But Archie's contrition was as swift. + +"Oh, I say, forgive me!" he broke in, with a persuasive hand on her arm. +"Do, if you can! I know it was unpardonable of me. I'm so awfully sorry. +You see, I--" + +She interrupted hastily. + +"It doesn't matter--it doesn't matter. I understand. It was quite an +excusable mistake. Please don't look so distressed! It hasn't hurt me +much. I think it would have hurt me more if it had been literally true." + +The sentences ran out rapidly. She was as agitated as he. They had the +little recess to themselves, and their voices scarcely rose above a +whisper. + +"Then it wasn't true?" Archie said, with a look of relief. + +Nina drew back. She was not prepared to go as far as that. All her life +she had sought to be honest in her dealings. + +"It hasn't come actually to that yet," she said under her breath. "But +it may--it may." + +Somehow it relieved the burden that pressed upon her to be able to speak +thus openly to her life-long comrade. But Archie looked grieved, almost +shocked. + +"What will you do if it does?" he asked. + +"I shall leave him," she said, her face growing hard. "I think he +understands that." + +There was a heavy silence between them. Then impulsively, with pure +generosity, Archie spoke. + +"Nina," he said, "if you should need--help--of any sort, you know--will +you count on me?" + +Nina hesitated for a moment. + +"Please!" said Archie gently. + +She bent her head. + +"Thank you," she said. "I will." + + + + +VII + +THE DELIVERER + + +Half-an-hour later they went out again into the blazing sunshine. + +"What do you think of my hack?" Archie asked, as they drove away +westwards. "I got him at Tattersall's the other day. I haven't driven +him before to-day. He's a bit jumpy. But I like an animal that can jump, +don't you know." + +"I know you do," laughed Nina. "I believe that is purely why you haven't +started a motor yet. They can do everything that is vicious and +extraordinary except jump. But do you really like a horse to shy at +everything he passes? Look at him now! He doesn't like that hand-cart +with red paint." + +"He's an artist," grinned Archie. "It offends his eye; and no wonder. +Don't be alarmed, though! He won't do anything outrageous. My man knows +how to manage him." + +Nina leant back. She was not, as a rule, nervous, but, as Archie's new +purchase was forced protesting past the object of his fright, she was +conscious of a very decided feeling of uneasiness. The animal looked to +her vicious as well as alarmed. + +They got safely past the hand-cart, and a brief interval of tranquillity +followed as they trotted briskly down Ludgate Hill. + +"He won't have time to look at anything now," said Archie cheerfully. + +The words had scarcely left his lips when the tire of a stationary car +they were passing exploded with a report like a rifle shot. In a second +Archie's animal leapt into the air, struck the ground with all four +hoofs together--and bolted. + +"My man's got him," said Archie. "Sit still! Nothing's going to happen." + +He put his arm in front of Nina and gripped the farther side of the +hansom. + +But Nina had not the smallest intention of losing her head. During the +first few moments her sensations were more of breathless interest than +fear. Certainly she was very far from panic. + +She saw the roadway before them clear as if by magic before their +galloping advance. She heard shouts, warning cries, yells of excitement. +She also heard, very close to her, Archie's voice, swearing so evenly +and deliberately that she was possessed by an insane desire to laugh at +him. Above everything else, she heard the furious, frantic rhythm of the +flying hoofs before them. And yet somehow inexplicably she did not at +first feel afraid. + +They tore with a speed that seemed to increase momentarily straight down +the thoroughfare that a few seconds before had seemed choked with +traffic. They shaved by vans, omnibuses, hand-barrows. Houses and shops +seemed to whirl past them, like a revolving nightmare--ever the same, +yet somehow ever different. A train was thundering over the bridge as +they galloped beneath it. The maddened horse heard and stretched himself +to his utmost speed. + +And then came tragedy--- the tragedy that Nina always felt that she had +known from the beginning of that wild gallop must come. + +As they raced on to Ludgate Circus she had a momentary glimpse of a boy +on a bicycle traversing the street before them at right angles. Archie +ceased suddenly to swear. The reins that till then had been taut sagged +down abruptly. He made a clutch at them and failed to catch them. They +slipped away sideways and dragged on the ground. + +There came a shock, a piercing cry. Nina started forward for the first +time, but Archie flung his arms round her, holding her fast. Then they +were free of the obstacle and dashing on again. + +"Let me see!" she gasped. "Let me see!" + +They bumped against a curb and nearly overturned. Then one of their +wheels caught another vehicle. The hansom was whizzed half round, but +the pitiless hoofs still tore on and almost miraculously the worst was +still averted. + +Archie's hold was close and nearly suffocated her; but over his shoulder +Nina still managed to look ahead. + +And thus looking she saw the most wonderful, and the most terrifying, +episode of the whole adventure. + +She saw a man in faultless City attire leap suddenly from the footway to +the road in front of them. For a breathless instant she saw him poised +to spring, and in her heart there ran a sudden, choking sense of +anguished recognition. She shut her eyes and cowered in Archie's arms. +Deliverance was coming. She felt it in every nerve. But how? And by +whom? + +There came a jerk and a plunge, a furious, straining effort. The fierce +galloping ceased, yet they made still for a few yards a halting, +difficult progress. + +Then they stopped altogether, and she felt the shock of hoofs upon the +splashboard. + +Another moment and that, too, ceased. They stood still, and Archie's +arms relaxed. + +Nina lifted her head and saw her husband hatless in the road, his face +set and grim, his hands gripping the reins with a strength that +evidently impressed upon the runaway the futility of opposition. In his +eyes was a look that made her tremble. + + + + +VIII + +AFTER THE ACCIDENT + + +"You had better go home in the car," Wingarde said. "It is waiting for +me in Fenwick Street. Mr. Neville, perhaps you will be good enough to +accompany my wife. Your animal is tame enough now. Your man will have no +difficulty with it, if he is to be found." + +"Ah! Exactly!" Archie said. + +He looked round vaguely. Nina was leaning on his arm. His man was +nowhere to be seen, having some minutes since abandoned a situation +which he had discovered to be beyond his powers to deal with. + +A crowd surrounded them, and a man at his elbow informed him that his +driver had thrown down the reins and jumped off before they were clear +of the railway bridge. Archie swallowed the comment upon this discreet +behaviour, that rose to his lips. + +A moment later Wingarde, who had seemed on the point of departure, +pushed his way hastily-back to him. + +"Never mind the hansom!" he said. "I believe your man has been hurt. I +will see to it. Just take my wife out of this, will you? I want to see +if that boy is alive or dead." + +He had turned again with the words, forcing his way through the crowd. +Nina pressed after him. She was as white as the dress she wore. There +was no holding her back. Archie could only accompany her. + +It was difficult to get through the gathering throng. When finally they +succeeded in doing so, they found Wingarde stooping over the unconscious +victim of the accident. He had satisfied himself that the boy lived, and +was feeling rapidly for broken bones. + +Becoming aware of Nina's presence, he looked up with a frown. Then, +seeing her piteous face, he refrained from uttering the curt rebuke that +had risen to his lips. + +"I want you to go home," he said. "I will do all that is necessary here. +Neville, take my wife home! The car is close at hand in Fenwick Street." + +"He isn't dead?" faltered Nina shakily. + +"No--certainly not." Wingarde's voice was confident. + +He turned from her to speak to a policeman; and Nina yielded to Archie's +hand on her arm. She was more upset than she had realized. + +Neither of them spoke during the drive westwards. Archie scowled a good +deal, but he gave no vent to his feelings. + +Arrived in Crofton Square, he would have taken his leave of her. But +Nina would not hear of this. + +"Please stay till Hereford comes!" she entreated. "You will want to know +what he has done. Besides, I want you." + +Archie yielded to pressure. No word was spoken by either in praise or +admiration of the man who had risked his life to save theirs. Somehow it +was a difficult subject between them. + +Nearly two hours later Wingarde arrived on foot. He reported Archie's +man only slightly the worse for his adventure. + +"It ought to have killed him," he said briefly. "But men of that sort +never are killed. I told him to drive back to stables. The horse was as +quiet as a lamb." + +"And the boy?" Nina asked eagerly. + +"Oh, the boy!" Wingarde said. "His case is more serious. He was taken to +the Wade Home. I went with him. I happen to know Wade." + +"That's the West End physician," said Archie. "He calls himself Wade, I +know, when he wants to be _incog_." + +"That's the man," said Wingarde. "But I am not acquainted with him as +the West End physician. He is purely a City acquaintance. Oh, are you +going, Neville? We shall see you again, I suppose?" + +It was not cordially spoken. Archie coloured and glanced at Nina. + +"You are coming to dinner, aren't you?" she said at once. "Please do! We +shall be alone. And you promised, didn't you?" + +Archie hesitated for a moment. Wingarde was looking at him piercingly. + +"I hope you won't allow my presence to interfere with any plans you may +have made for to-night's amusement," he remarked. "I shall be obliged to +go out myself after dinner." + +Archie drew himself up. Wingarde's tone stung. + +"You are very good," he said stiffly. "What do you say, Nina? Do you +feel up to the theatre?" + +Nina's colour also was very high. But her eyes looked softer than usual. +She turned to her husband. + +"Couldn't you come, too, for once, Hereford?" she asked. "We were +thinking of the theatre. It--it would be nice if you came too." + +The falter in the last sentence betrayed the fact that she was nervous. + +Wingarde smiled faintly, contemptuously, as he made reply. + +"Really, that's very kind of you," he said. "But I am compelled to plead +a prior engagement. You will be home by midnight, I suppose?" + +Archie made an abrupt movement. For a second he hovered on the verge of +an indignant outburst. The man's manner, rather than his words, was +insufferable. But in that second he met Wingarde's eyes, and something +he saw there checked him. He pulled himself together and somewhat +awkwardly took his leave. + +Wingarde saw him off, with the scoffing smile upon his lips. When he +returned to the drawing-room Nina was on her feet, waiting for him. She +was still unusually pale, and her eyes were very bright. She wore a +restless, startled look, as though her nerves were on the stretch. + +Wingarde glanced at her. + +"You had better go and lie down till dinner," he said. + +Nina looked back at him. Her lips quivered a little, but when she spoke +her voice was absolutely steady. She held her head resolutely high. + +"I think Archie must have forgotten to thank you," she said, "for what +you did. But I have not. Will you accept my gratitude?" + +There was proud humility in her voice. But Wingarde only shrugged his +shoulders with a sneer. + +"Your gratitude would have been more genuine if you had been saved a +widow instead of a wife," he said brutally. + +She recoiled from him. Her eyes flashed furious indignation. She felt as +if he had struck her in the face. She spoke instantly and vehemently. +Her voice shook. + +"That is a poison of your own mixing," she said. "You know it!" + +"What! It isn't true?" he asked. + +He drew suddenly close to her. His eyes gleamed also with the gleam of +a smouldering fire. She saw that he was moved. She believed him to be +angry. Trembling, yet scornful, she held her peace. + +He gripped her wrists suddenly, bending his dark face close to hers. + +"If it isn't true--" he said, and stopped. + +She drew back from him with a startled movement. For an instant her eyes +challenged his. Then abruptly their fierce resistance failed. She turned +her face aside and burst into tears. + +In a moment she was free. Her husband stood regarding her with a very +curious look in his eyes. He watched her as she moved slowly away from +him, fighting fiercely, desperately, to regain her self-control. He saw +her sit down, leaving almost the length of the room between them, and +lean her head upon her hand. + +Then the man's arrested brutality suddenly reasserted itself, and he +strode to the door. + +"Pshaw!" he exclaimed as he went. "Don't I know that you pray for a +deliverer every night of your life? And what deliverer would you have if +not death--the surest of all--in your case positively the only one +within the bounds of possibility?" + +He was gone with the words, but she would not have attempted to answer +them had he stayed. Her head was bowed almost to her knees, and she sat +quite motionless, as if he had stabbed her to the heart. + +Later she dined alone with Archie in her husband's unexplained absence, +and later still, at the theatre, her face was as gay, her laugh as +frequent, as any there. + + + + +IX + +THE END OF A MYSTERY + + +On the following afternoon Nina went to the Wade Home to see the victim +of the accident. She was received by the matron, a middle-aged, kindly +woman, who was openly pleased with the concern her visitor exhibited. + +"Oh, he's better," she said, "much better. But I'm afraid I can't let +you see him now, as he is asleep. Dr. Wade examined him himself +yesterday. And he was here again this morning. His opinion is that the +spine has been only bruised. While unconsciousness lasted, it was, of +course, difficult to tell. But the patient became conscious this +morning, and Dr. Wade said he was very well pleased with him on the +whole. He thinks we shall not have him very long. He's a bright little +chap and thoroughly likes his quarters. His father is a dock labourer. +Everyone knows the Wade Home, and all the patients consider themselves +very lucky to be here. You see, the doctor is such a favourite wherever +he goes." + +"I have never met Dr. Wade," Nina said. "I suppose he is a great man?" + +The matron's jolly face glowed with enthusiasm. + +"He is indeed," she said--"a splendid man. You probably know him by +another name. They say he is a leading physician in the West End. But we +City people know him and love him by his assumed name only. Why, only +lately he cut short his holiday on purpose to be near one of his +patients who was dying. If you could manage to come to-morrow afternoon +after four o'clock, no doubt you would see him. It is visiting-day, and +he is always here on Sunday afternoons between three and six in case the +visitors like to see him. I should be delighted to give you some tea. +And you could then see the little boy." + +"Thank you," Nina said. "I will." + +That evening she chanced to meet Archie Neville at a friend's +dinner-table and imparted to him her purpose. + +"Jove!" he said. "Good idea! I'll come with you, shall I?" + +"Please not in the hansom!" she said. + +"Not a bit of it," returned Archie. "But you needn't be nervous. I've +sacked that man. No matter! We'll go in a wheelbarrow if you think +that'll be safer." + +Nina laughed and agreed to accept his escort. Archie's society was a +very welcome distraction just then. + +To her husband she made no mention of her intention. She had established +the custom of going her own way at all times. It did not even cross her +mind to introduce the subject. He was treating her with that sarcastic +courtesy of his which was so infinitely hard to bear. It hurt her +horribly, and because of the pain she avoided him as much as she dared. + +She did not know how he spent his time on Sundays. Except for his +presence at luncheon she found she was left as completely to her own +devices as on other days. + +She had agreed to drive Archie to the Wade Home in her husband's +landaulette. + +Wingarde left the house before three and she was alone when Archie +arrived. + +The latter looked at her critically. + +"What's the matter?" he asked. + +"Nothing," she returned instantly. "Why?" + +"You're looking off colour," he said. + +Nina turned from him impatiently. + +"There is nothing the matter with me," she said. "Shall we start?" + +Archie said no more. But he glanced at her curiously from time to time. +He wondered privately if her husband's society were driving her to that +extreme which she had told him she might reach eventually. + +Visitors were being admitted to the Wade Home when they arrived. They +were directed to the ward where lay the boy in whom they were +interested. Nina presented him with flowers and a book, and sat for some +time talking with him. The little fellow was hugely flattered by her +attentions, though too embarrassed to express his pleasure in words. +Archie amused himself by making pennies appear and disappear in the +palms of his hands for the benefit of a sad-faced urchin in the next bed +who had no visitors. + +In the midst of this the matron bustled in to beg Nina and her companion +to take a cup of tea in her room. + +"Dr. Wade is here and sure to come in," she said. "I should like you to +meet him." + +Nina accordingly took leave of her _protege_, and, followed by Archie, +repaired to the matron's room. + +The windows were thrown wide open, for the afternoon was hot. They sat +down, feeling that tea was a welcome sight. + +"I have a separate brew for Dr. Wade," said the matron cheerily. "He +likes it so very strong. He almost always takes a cup. There! I hear him +coming now." + +There sounded a step in the passage and a man's quiet laugh. Nina +started slightly. + +A moment later a voice in the doorway said: + +"Ah! Here you are, Mrs. Ritchie! I have just been prescribing a piece of +sugar for this patient of ours. Her mother is waiting to take her away." + +Nina was on her feet in an instant. All the blood seemed to rush to her +heart. Its throbs felt thick and heavy. On the threshold her husband +stood, looking full at her. In his arms was a little child. + +"Dr. Wade!" smiled the matron. "You do spoil your patients, sir. There! +Let me take her! Please come in! Your tea is just ready. I was just +talking about you to Mrs. Wingarde, who came to see the boy who was +knocked down by a hansom last week. Madam, this is Dr. Wade." + +She went forward to lift the child out of Wingarde's arms. There +followed a silence, a brief, hard-strung silence. Nina stood quite +still. Her hands were unconsciously clasped together. She was white to +the lips. But she kept her eyes raised to Wingarde's face. He seemed to +be looking through her, and in his eyes was that look with which he had +regarded her when he had saved her life and Archie's two days before. + +He spoke almost before the matron had begun to notice anything unusual +in the atmosphere. + +"Ah!" he said, with a slight bow. "You know me under different +circumstances--you and Mr. Neville. You did not expect to meet me here?" + +Archie glanced at Nina and saw her agitation. He came coolly forward and +placed himself in the breach. + +"We certainly didn't," he said. "It's good sometimes to know that people +are not all they seem. I congratulate you, er--Dr. Wade." + +Wingarde turned his attention to his wife's companion. His face was very +dark. + +"Take the child to her mother, please, Mrs. Ritchie!" he said curtly, +over his shoulder. + +The matron departed discreetly, but at the door the child in her arms +began to cry. + +Wingarde turned swiftly, took the little one's face between his hands, +spoke a soft word, and kissed it. + +Then, as the matron moved away, he walked back into the room, closing +the door behind him. All the tenderness with which he had comforted the +wailing baby had vanished from his face. + +"Mr. Neville," he said shortly, "my wife will return in the car with me. +I will relieve you of your attendance upon her." + +Archie turned crimson, but he managed to control himself--more for the +sake of the girl who stood in total silence by his side than from any +idea of expediency. + +"Certainly," he said, "if Mrs. Wingarde also prefers that arrangement." + +Nina glanced at him. He saw that her lip was quivering painfully. She +did not attempt to speak. + +Archie turned to go. But almost instantly Wingarde's voice arrested him. + +"I can give you a seat in the car if you wish," he said. He spoke with +less sternness, but his face had not altered. + +Archie stopped. Again for Nina's sake he choked back his wrath and +accepted the churlishly proffered amendment. + +Wingarde drank his tea, strolling about the room. He did not again +address his wife directly. + +As for Nina, though she answered Archie when he spoke to her, it was +with very obvious effort. She glanced from time to time at her husband +as if in some uncertainty. Finally, when they took leave of the matron +and went down to the car she seemed to hail the move with relief. + +Throughout the drive westwards scarcely a word was spoken. At the end of +the journey Archie turned deliberately and addressed Wingarde. His face +was white and dogged. + +"I should like a word with you in private," he said. + +Wingarde looked at him for a moment as if he meant to refuse. Then +abruptly he gave way. + +"I am at your service," he said formally. + +And Archie marched into the house in Nina's wake. + +In the hall Wingarde touched his shoulder. + +"Come into the smoking-room!" he said quietly. + + + + +X + +TAKEN TO TASK + + +"I want to know what you mean," said Archie. + +He stood up very straight, with the summer sunlight full in his face, +and confronted Nina's husband without a hint of dismay in his bearing. + +Wingarde looked at him with a very faint smile on his grim lips. + +"You wish to take me to task?" he asked. + +"I do," said Archie decidedly. + +"For what in particular? The innocent deception practised upon an +equally innocent public? Or for something more serious than that?" + +There was an unmistakable ring of sternness behind Wingarde's +deliberately scoffing tone. + +Archie answered him instantly, with the quickness of a man who fights +for his honour. + +"For something more serious," he said. "It's nothing to me what fool +trick you may choose to play for your own amusement. But I am not going +to swallow an insult from you or any man. I want an explanation for +that." + +Wingarde stood with his back to the light and looked at him. + +"In what way have I insulted you?" he said. + +"You implied that I was not a suitable escort for your wife," Archie +said, forcing himself to speak without vehemence. + +Wingarde raised his eyebrows. + +"I apologize if I was too emphatic," he said, after a moment. "But, +considering the circumstances, I am forced to tell you that I do not +consider you a suitable escort for my wife." + +"What circumstances?" said Archie. He clenched his hands abruptly, and +Wingarde saw it. + +"Please understand," he said curtly, "that I will listen to you only so +long as you keep your temper! I believe that you know what I mean--what +circumstances I refer to. If you wish me to put them into plain language +I will do so. But I don't think you will like it." + +Archie pounced upon the words. + +"You would probably put me to the trouble of calling you a liar if you +did," he said, in a shaking voice. "I have no more intention than you +have of mincing matters. As to listening to me, you shall do that in any +case. I am going to tell you the truth, and I mean that you shall hear +it." + +He strode to the door as he spoke, and locked it, pocketing the key. + +Wingarde did not stir to prevent him. He waited with a sneer on his lips +while Archie returned and took up his stand facing him. + +"You seem very sure of yourself," he said in a quiet tone. + +"I am," Archie said doggedly. "Absolutely sure. You think I am in love +with your wife, don't you?" + +Wingarde frowned heavily. + +"Are you going to throw dust in my eyes?" he asked contemptuously. + +Archie locked his hands behind him. + +"I am going to tell you the truth," he said again, and, though his voice +still shook perceptibly there was dignity in his bearing. "Three years +ago I was in love with her." + +"Calf love?" suggested Wingarde carelessly. + +"You may call it what you like," Archie rejoined. "That is to say, +anything honourable. I was hard hit three years ago, and it lasted off +and on till her marriage to you. But she never cared for me in the same +way. That I know now. I proposed to her twice, and she refused me." + +"You weren't made of money, you see," sneered Wingarde. + +Archie's fingers gripped each other. He had never before longed so +fiercely to hurl a blow in a man's face. + +"If I had been," he said, "I am not sure that I should have made the +running with you in the field. That brings me to what I have to say to +you. I wondered for a long time how she brought herself to marry you. +When you came back from your honeymoon I began to understand. She +married you for your money; but if you had chosen, she would have +married you for love." + +He blurted out the words hastily, as though he could not trust himself +to pause lest he should not say them. + +Wingarde stood up suddenly to his full height. For once he was taken +totally by surprise and showed it. He did not speak, however, and Archie +blundered on: + +"I am not your friend. I don't say this in any way for your sake. But--I +am her's--- her friend, mind you. I don't say I haven't ever flirted +with her. I have. But I have never said to her a single word that I +should be ashamed to repeat to you--not one word. You've got to believe +that whether you want to or not." + +He paused momentarily. The frown had died away from Wingarde's face, but +his eyes were stern. He waited silently for more. Archie proceeded with +more steadiness, more self-assurance, less self-restraint. + +"You've treated her abominably," he said, going straight to the point. +"I don't care what you think of me for saying so. It's the truth. You've +deceived her, neglected her, bullied her. Deny it if you can! Oh, no, +this isn't what she has told me. It has been as plain as daylight. I +couldn't have avoided knowing it. You made her your wife, Heaven knows +why. You probably cared for her in your own brutal fashion. But you have +never taken the trouble to make her care for you. You never go out with +her. You never consider her in any way. You see her wretched, ill +almost, under your eyes; and instead of putting it down to your own +confounded churlishness, you turn round and insult me for behaving +decently to her. There! I have done. You can kick me out of the house as +soon as you like. But you won't find it so easy to forget what I've +said. You know in your heart that it's the truth." + +Archie ended his vigorous speech with the full expectation of being made +to pay the penalty by means of a damaged skin. + +Wingarde's face was uncompromising. It told nothing of his mood during +the heavy silence that followed. It was, therefore, a considerable +shock when he abruptly surrendered the citadel without striking a single +blow. + +"I am much obliged to you, Neville," he said very quietly. "And I beg to +apologize for a most unworthy suspicion. Will you shake hands?" + +Archie tumbled off his high horse with more speed than elegance. He +thrust out his hand with an inarticulate murmur of assent. Perhaps after +all the fellow had been no worse than an unmannerly bear. The next +minute he was discussing politics with the monster he had dared to beard +in his own den. + +When Nina saw her husband again he treated her with a courtesy so +scrupulous that she felt the miserable scourge of her uncertainty at +work again. She would have given much to have possessed the key to his +real feelings. With regard to his establishment of the Wade Home, he +gave her the briefest explanation. He had been originally intended for a +doctor, he said, had passed his medical examinations, and been qualified +to practise. Then, at the last minute, a chance opening had presented +itself, and he had gone into finance instead. + +"After that," he somewhat sarcastically said, "I gave myself up to the +all absorbing business of money-making. And doctoring became merely my +fad, my amusement, my recreation--whatever you please to call it." + +"I wish you had told me," Nina said, in a low voice. + +At which remark he merely shrugged his shoulders, making no rejoinder. + +She felt hurt by his manner and said no more. Only later there came to +her the memory of the man she feared, standing in the doorway of the +matron's room with a little child in his arms. Somehow that picture was +very vividly impressed upon her mind. + + + + +XI + +MONEY'S NOT EVERYTHING + + +"What! You are coming too?" + +Nina stopped short on her way to the car and gazed at her husband in +amazement. + +He had returned early from the City, and she now met him dressed to +attend a garden-party whither she herself was going. + +He bent his head in answer to her surprised question. + +"I shall give myself the pleasure of accompanying you," he said, with +much formality. + +She coloured and bit her lip. Swift as evil came the thought that he +resented her intimacy with Archie and was determined to frustrate any +attempt on their part to secure a _tete-a-tete_. + +"You take great care of me," she said, with a bitter little smile. + +Wingarde made no response; his face was quite inscrutable. + +They scarcely spoke during the drive, and she kept her face averted. +Only when he held out his hand to assist her to alight she met his eye +for an instant and wondered vaguely at the look he gave her. + +The party was a large one; the lawns were crowded. Nina took the first +opportunity that offered to slip away from him, for she felt hopelessly +ill at ease in his company. The sensation of being watched that had +oppressed her during her brief honeymoon had reawakened. + +Archie presently joined her. + +"Did I see the hero of the Crawley gold field just now?" he asked. "Or +was it hallucination?" + +Nina looked at him with a very bored expression. + +"Oh, yes, my husband is here," she said. "I suppose you had better not +stay with me or he will come up and be rude to you." + +Archie chuckled. + +"Not he! We understand one another," he said lightly. "But, I say, what +an impostor the fellow is! Everyone knows about Dr. Wade, but no one +connects him in the smallest degree with Hereford Wingarde. It shouldn't +be allowed to go on. You ought to tell the town-crier." + +Nina tried to laugh, but it was a somewhat dismal effort. + +"Come along!" said Archie cheerily. "There's my mother over there; she +has been wondering where you were." + +Nina went with him with a nervous wonder if Hereford were still watching +her, but she saw nothing of him. + +The afternoon wore away in music and gaiety. A great many of her +acquaintances were present, and to Nina the time passed quickly. + +She was sitting in a big marquee drinking the tea that Archie had +brought her when she next saw her husband. By chance she discovered him +talking with a man she did not know, not ten yards from her. The tent +was fairly full, and the buzz of conversation was continuous. + +Nina glanced at him from time to time with a curious sense of +uneasiness, and an unaccountable desire to detach him from his +acquaintance grew gradually upon her. + +The latter was a heavy-browed man with queer, furtive eyes. As Nina +stealthily watched them she saw that this man was restless and agitated. +Her husband's face was turned from her, but his attitude was one of +careless ease, into which his big limbs dropped when he was at leisure. + +Later she never knew by what impulse she acted. It was as if a voice +suddenly cried aloud in her heart that Wingarde was in deadly danger. +She gave Archie her cup and rose. + +"Just a moment!" she said hurriedly. "I see Hereford over there." + +She moved swiftly in the direction of the two men. There was disaster +in the air. She seemed to breathe it as she drew near. Her husband +straightened himself before she reached him, and half turned with his +contemptuous laugh. The next instant Nina saw his companion's hand whip +something from behind him. She shrieked aloud and sprang forward like a +terrified animal. The man's eyes maddened her more than the deadly +little weapon that flashed into view in his right hand. + +There followed prompt upon her cry the sharp explosion of a +revolver-shot, and then the din of a panic-stricken crowd. + +But Nina did not share the panic. She had flung herself in front of her +husband, had flung her whole weight upon the upraised arm that had +pointed the revolver and borne it downwards with all her strength. Those +who saw her action compared it later with the furious attack of a +tigress defending her young. + +It was all over in a few brief seconds. Men crowded round and +overpowered her adversary. Someone took the frenzied girl by the +shoulders and forced her to relinquish her clutch. + +She turned and looked straight into Wingarde's face, and at the sight +her nerves gave way and she broke into hysterical sobbing, though she +knew that he was safe. + +He put his arm around her and led her from the stifling tent. People +made way for them. Only their hostess and Archie Neville followed. + +Outside on the lawn, away from the buzzing multitude, Nina began to +recover herself. Archie brought a chair, and she dropped into it, but +she held fast to Wingarde's arm, beseeching him over and over again not +to leave her. + +Wingarde stooped over her, supporting her; but he found nothing to say +to her. He briefly ordered Archie to fetch some water, and made request +to his hostess, almost equally brief, that their car might be called in +readiness for departure. But his manner was wholly free from agitation. + +"My wife will recover better at home," he said, and the lady of the +house went away with a good deal of tact to give the order herself. + +Left alone with him, Nina still clung to her husband; but she grew +rapidly calmer in his quiet hold. After a moment he spoke to her. + +"I wonder how you knew," he said. + +Nina leant her head against him like an exhausted child. + +"I saw it coming," she said. "It was in his eyes--mad hatred. I knew he +was going to--to kill you if he could." + +She did not want to meet his eyes, but he gently compelled her. + +"And so you saved my life," he said in a quiet tone. + +"I had to," she said faintly. + +Archie here reappeared with a glass of water. + +"The fellow is in a fit," he reported. "They are taking him away. Jove, +Wingarde! You ought to be a dead man. If Nina hadn't spoilt that shot--" + +Nina was shuddering, and he broke off. + +"You'd better give up cornering gold fields," he said lightly. "It seems +he was nearly ruined over your last _coup_. You may do that sort of +thing once too often, don't you know. I shouldn't chance another throw." + +Nina stood up shakily and looked at her husband. + +"If you only would give it up!" she said, with trembling vehemence. +"I--I hate money!" + +Wingarde made no response; but Archie instantly took her up. + +"You only hate money for what it can't buy," he said. "You probably +expect too much from it. Don't blame money for that." + +Nina uttered a tremulous laugh that sounded strangely passionate. + +"You're quite right," she said. "Money's not everything. I have weighed +it in the balance and found it wanting." + +"Yes," Wingarde said in a peculiar tone. "And so have I." + + + + +XII + +AFTERWARDS--LOVE + + +An overwhelming shyness possessed Nina that night. She dined alone with +her husband, and found his silences even more oppressive than usual. +Yet, when she rose from the table, an urgent desire to keep him within +call impelled her to pause. + +"Shall you be late to-night?" she asked him, stopping nervously before +him, as he stood by the open door. + +"I am not going out to-night," he responded gravely." + +"Oh!" Nina hesitated still. She was trembling slightly. "Then--I shall +see you again?" she said. + +He bent his head. + +"I shall be with you in ten minutes," he replied. + +And she passed out quickly. + +The night was still and hot. She went into her own little sitting-room +and straight to the open window. Her heart was beating very fast as she +stood and looked across the quiet square. The roar of London hummed +busily from afar. She heard it as one hears the rushing of unseen water +among the hills. + +There was no one moving in the square. The trees in the garden looked +dim and dreamlike against a red-gold sky. + +Suddenly in the next house, from a room with an open window, there rose +the sound of a woman's voice, tender as the night. It reached the girl +who stood waiting in the silence. The melody was familiar to her, and +she leant forward breathlessly to catch the words: + + Shadows and mist and night, + Darkness around the way; + Here a cloud and there a star; + Afterwards, Day! + +There came a pause and the soft notes of a piano. Nina stood with +clasped hands, waiting for the second verse. Her cheeks were wet. + +It came, slow and exquisitely pure, as if an angel had drawn near to the +turbulent earth with a message of healing: + + Sorrow and grief and tears, + Eyes vainly raised above; + Here a thorn and there a rose; + Afterwards, Love! + +Nina turned from the open window. She was groping, for her eyes were +full of tears. From the doorway a man moved quietly to meet her. + +"Hereford!" she said in a broken whisper, and went straight into his +arms. + +He held her fast, so fast that she felt his heart beating against her +bowed head. But it was many seconds before he spoke. + +"Do you remember the wishing-gate, Nina?" he said, speaking softly. "And +how you asked for a Deliverer?" + +She stretched up her arms to clasp his neck without lifting her head. +She was crying and could not answer him. + +He put his hand upon her hair and she felt it tremble. + +"Has the Deliverer come to you, dear?" he asked her very tenderly. + +He felt for her face in the darkness, and turned it slowly upwards. She +did not resist him though she knew well what was coming. Rather she +yielded to his touch with a sudden, passionate willingness. And so their +lips met in the first kiss that had ever passed between them. + +Thus there came a Deliverer more potent than death into the heart of the +girl who had married for money, and made its surrender sweet. + + + + +The Prey of the Dragon + +I + + +"Ah! She's off!" + +A deafening blast came from the great steamship's siren, and a long sigh +went up from the crowd upon the quay. Someone raised a cheer that was +quickly drowned in the noise of escaping steam. Very slowly, almost +imperceptibly, the vessel began to move. + +A black gap appeared, and widened between her and the wharf till it +became a stretch of grey water veiled in the dank fog of a murky sea. +The fog was everywhere, floating in wreaths upon the oily swell, +blotting out all distant objects, making vague those that were near. +Very soon the crowd on the shore was swallowed up and the great vessel +was heading for the mouth, of the harbour and the wide loneliness +beyond. + +Sybil Denham hid her face in her hands for a moment and shivered. There +was something terrible to her in the thought of those thousands of miles +to be traversed alone. It cowed her. It appalled her. + +Yet when she looked up again her eyes were brave. She stood committed +now to this great step, and she was resolved to take it with a high +courage. Whatever lay before her, she must face it now without +shrinking. Yet it was horribly lonely. She turned from the deck-rail +with nervous haste. + +The next instant she caught her foot against a coil of rope and fell +headlong, with a violence that almost stunned her. A moment she lay, +then, gasping, began to raise herself. + +But as she struggled to her knees strong hands lifted her, and a man's +voice said gruffly: + +"Are you hurt?" + +She found herself in the grasp of a powerful giant with the physique of +a prize-fighter and a dark face with lowering brows that seemed to wear +an habitual scowl. + +She was too staggered to speak; the fall had unnerved her. She put her +hand vaguely behind her, feeling for the rail, looking up at him with +piteous, quivering lips. + +"You should look where you are going," he said, with scant sympathy. +"Perhaps you will another time." + +She found the rail, leaned upon it, then turned her back upon him +suddenly and burst into tears which she was too shaken to restrain. She +thought he would go away, hoped that he would; but he remained, standing +in stolid silence till she managed in a measure to regain her +self-control. + +"Where did you hurt yourself?" he asked then. + +She struggled with herself, and answered him. "I--I am not hurt." + +"Then what are you crying for?" + +The words sounded more like a rude retort than a question. + +She found them unanswerable, and suddenly, while she still stood +battling with her tears, something in the utterance touched her sense of +humour. She gulped down a sob, and gave a little strangled laugh. + +"I don't quite know," she said, drying her eyes. "Thank you for picking +me up." + +"I should have tumbled over you if I hadn't," he responded. + +Again her sense of humour quivered, finally dispelling all desire to +cry. She turned a little. + +"I'm glad you didn't!" she said with fervour. + +"So am I." + +The curt rejoinder cut clean through her depression. She broke into a +gay, spontaneous laugh. + +But the next instant she checked herself and apologized. + +"Forgive me! I'm very rude." + +"What's the joke?" he asked. + +She answered him in a voice that still quivered a little with suppressed +merriment. + +"There isn't a joke. I--I often laugh at nothing. It's a silly habit of +mine." + +His moody silence seemed to endorse this remark. She became silent also, +and after a moment made a shy movement to depart. + +He turned then and looked at her, looked full and straight into her +small, sallow face, with its shadowy eyes and pointed features, as if he +would register her likeness upon his memory. + +She gave him a faint, friendly smile. + +"I'm going below now," she said. "Good-bye!" + +He raised his hat abruptly. His head was massive as a bull's. + +"Mind how you go!" he said briefly. + +And Sybil went, feeling like a child that has been rebuked. + + + + +II + + +"Do you always walk along with your eyes shut?" asked Brett Mercer. + +Sybil gave a great start, and saw him lounging immediately in her path. +The days that had elapsed since their first meeting had placed them upon +a more or less intimate footing. He had assumed the right to speak to +her from the outset--this giant who had picked her up like an infant and +scolded her for crying. + +It was a hot morning in the Indian Ocean. She had not slept during the +night, and she was feeling weary and oppressed. But, with a woman's +instinctive reserve, she forced a hasty smile. She would not have +stopped to speak had he not risen and barred her progress. + +"Sit here!" he said. + +She looked up at him with refusal on her lips; but he forestalled her +by laying an immense hand on her shoulder and pressing her down into the +chair he had just vacated. This accomplished, he turned and hung over +the rail in silence. It seemed to be the man's habit at all times to do +rather than to speak. + +Sybil sat passive, feeling rather helpless, dumbly watching the great +lounging figure, and wondered how she should escape without hurting his +feelings. + +Suddenly, without turning his head, he spoke to her. + +"I suppose if I ask what's the matter you'll tell me to go to the +devil." + +The remark, though characteristic, was totally unexpected. Sybil stared +at him for a moment. Then, as once before, his rude address set her +sense of humour a-quivering. Depressed, miserable though she was, she +began to laugh. + +He turned, and looked at her sideways. + +"No doubt I am very funny," he observed dryly. + +She checked herself with an effort. + +"Oh, I know I'm horrid to laugh. But it's not that I am ungrateful. +There is nothing really the matter. I--I'm feeling rather like a stray +cat this morning, that's all." + +The smile still lingered about her lips as she said it. Somehow, telling +this taciturn individual of her trouble deprived it of much of its +bitterness. + +Mercer displayed no sympathy. He did not even continue to look at her. +But she did not feel that his impassivity arose from lack of interest. + +Suddenly: + +"Is it true that you are going to be married as soon as you land?" he +asked. + +Sybil was sitting forward with her chin in her hands. + +"Quite true," she said; adding, half to herself, "so far as I know." + +"What do you mean by that?" He turned squarely and looked down at her. + +She hesitated a little, but eventually she told him. + +"I thought there would have been a letter for me from Robin at Aden, but +there wasn't. It has worried me rather." + +"Robin?" he said interrogatively. + +"Robin Wentworth, the man I am going to marry," she explained. "He has a +farm at Bowker Creek, near Rollandstown. But he will meet me at the +docks. He has promised to do that. Still, I thought I should have heard +from him again." + +"But you will hear at Colombo," said Mercer. + +She raised her eyes--- those soft, dark eyes that were her only beauty. + +"I may," she said. + +"And if you don't?" + +She smiled faintly. + +"I suppose I shall worry some more." + +"Are you sure the fellow is worth it?" asked Mercer unexpectedly. + +"We have been engaged for three years," she said, "though we have been +separated." + +He frowned. + +"A man can alter a good deal in three years." + +She did not attempt to dispute the point. It was one of the many doubts +that tormented her in moments of depression. + +"And what will you do if he doesn't turn up?" proceeded Mercer. + +She gave a sharp shiver. + +"Don't--don't frighten me!" she said. + +Mercer was silent. He thrust one hand into his pocket, and absently +jingled some coins. He began to whistle under his breath, and then, +awaking to the fact, abruptly stopped himself. + +"If I were in your place," he said at length, "I should get off at +Colombo and sail home again on the next boat." + +Sybil shook her head slowly but emphatically. + +"I am quite sure you wouldn't. For one thing you would be too poor, and +for another you would be too proud." + +"Are you very poor?" he asked her point blank. + +She nodded. + +"And very proud." + +"And your people?" + +"Only my father is living, and I have quarrelled with him." + +"Can't you make it up?" + +"No," she said sharply and emphatically. "I could never return to my +father. There is no room for me now that he has married again. I would +sooner sell matches at a street corner than go back to what I have +left." + +"So that's it, is it?" said Mercer. He was looking at her very +attentively with his brows drawn down. "You are not happy at home, so +you are plunging into matrimony to get away from it all." + +"We have been engaged for three years," she protested, flushing. + +"You said that before," he remarked. "It seems to be your only argument, +and a confoundedly shaky one at that." + +She laughed rather unsteadily. + +"You are not very encouraging." + +"No," said Mercer. + +He was still looking at her somewhat sternly. Involuntarily almost she +avoided his eyes. + +"Perhaps," she said, with a touch of wistfulness, "when you see my +_fiance_ you will change your mind." + +He turned from her with obvious impatience. + +"Perhaps you will change yours," he said. + +And with that surly rejoinder of his the conversation ended. The next +moment he moved abruptly away, leaving her in possession. + + +III + +It was early morning when they came at last into port. When Sybil +appeared on deck she found it crowded with excited men, and the hubbub +was deafening. A multitude of small boats buzzed to and fro on the +tumbling waters below them, and she expected every instant to see one +swamped as the great ship floated majestically through the throng. + +She had anticipated a crowd of people on the wharf to witness their +arrival, but the knot of men gathered there scarcely numbered a score. +She scanned them eagerly, but it took only a very few seconds to +convince her that Robin Wentworth was not among them. And there had been +no letter from him at Colombo. + +"They don't allow many people on the wharf," said Mercer's voice behind +her. "There will be more on the other side of the Customs house." + +She looked up at him, bravely smiling, though her heart was throbbing +almost to suffocation and she could not speak a word. + +He passed on into the crowd and she lost sight of him. + +There followed a delay of nearly half-an-hour, during which she stood +where she was in the glaring sunshine, dumbly watching. The town, with +its many buildings, its roar of traffic; the harbour, with its ships and +its hooting sirens; the hot sky, the water that shone like molten brass; +all were stamped upon her aching brain with nightmare distinctness. She +felt as one caught in some pitiless machine that would crush her to +atoms before she could escape. + +The gangways were fixed at last, and there was a general movement. She +went with the crowd, Mercer's last words still running through her brain +with a reiteration that made them almost meaningless. On the other side +of the Customs house! Of course, of course she would find Robin there, +waiting for her! + +She said it to herself over and over as she stepped ashore, and she +began to picture their meeting. And then, suddenly, an awful doubt +assailed her. She could not recall his features. His image would not +rise before her. The memory of his face had passed completely from her +mind. It had never done so before, and she was scared. But she strove to +reassure herself with the thought that she must surely recognize him the +moment her eyes beheld him. It was but a passing weakness this, born of +her agitation. Of course, she would know him, and he would know her, +too, mightily though she felt she had changed during those three years +that they had not met. + +She moved on as one in a dream, still with that nightmare of oppression +at her heart. The crowd of hurrying strangers bewildered her. Her +loneliness appalled her. She had an insane longing to rush back to her +cabin and hide herself. But she pressed on, on into the Customs house, +following her little pile of luggage that looked so ludicrously +insignificant among all the rest. + +The babel here was incessant. She felt as if her senses would leave her. +Piteously, like a lost child, she searched every face within her scope +of vision; but she searched in vain for the face of a friend. + +Later, she found herself following an official out into an open space +like a great courtyard, that was crammed with vehicles. He was wheeling +her luggage on a trolley. Suddenly he faced round and asked her whither +she wanted to go. + +She looked at him helplessly. "I am expecting someone to meet me," she +said. + +He stared at her in some perplexity, and finally suggested that he +should set down her luggage and leave her to wait where she was. + +To this she agreed, and when he had gone she seated herself on her cabin +trunk and faced the situation. She was utterly alone, with scarcely any +money in her possession, and no knowledge whatever of the place in which +she found herself. Robin would, of course, come sooner or later, but +till he came she was helpless. + +What should she do, she wondered desperately? What could she do? All +about her, people were coming and going. She watched them dizzily. There +was not one of them who seemed to be alone. The heat and glare was +intense. The clatter of wheels sounded in her ears like the roar of +great waters. She felt as if she were sinking down, down through endless +turmoil into a void unspeakable. + +How long she had sat there she could not have said. It seemed to her +hours when someone came up to her with a firm and purposeful stride, +and stooping, touched her shoulder. She looked up dazedly, and saw +Brett Mercer. + +He said something to her, but it was as if he spoke in an unknown +language. She had not the faintest idea what he meant. His face swam +before her eyes. She shook her head at him vaguely, with quivering lips. + +He stooped lower. She felt his arm encircle her, felt him draw her to +her feet. Again he seemed to be speaking, but his words eluded her. The +roar of the great waters filled her brain. Like a lost child she turned +and clung to the supporting arm. + + + +IV + + +Later, it seemed to her that her senses must have deserted her for a +time, for she never remembered what happened to her next. A multitude of +impressions crowded upon her, but she knew nothing with distinctness +till she woke to find herself lying in a room with green blinds +half-drawn, with Mercer stooping over her, compelling her to drink a +nauseating mixture in a wine-glass. + +As soon as full consciousness returned to her she refused to take +another drop. + +"What is it? It--it's horrible." + +"It's the best stuff you ever tasted," he told her bluntly. "You needn't +get up. You are all right as you are." + +But she sat up, nevertheless, and looked at him confusedly. "Where am +I?" she said. + +He seated himself on the corner of a table that creaked loudly beneath +his weight. It seemed to her that he looked even more massive than +usual--a bed-rock of strength. His eyes met hers with a certain mastery. + +"You are in a private room in a private hotel," he said. "I brought you +here." + +"In a hotel!" She stared at him for a moment, stricken silent by the +information; then quickly she rose to her feet. "Oh, but I--I can't +stay!" she said. "I have no money." + +"I know," said Mercer. He remained seated on the table edge, his hands +in his pockets, his eyes unwaveringly upon her. "That's where I come +in," he told her, with a touch of aggressiveness, as though he sighted +difficulties ahead. "I have money--plenty of it. And you are to make use +of it." + +She stood motionless, gazing at him. His eyes never left her. She could +not quite fathom his look, but it was undoubtedly stern. + +"Mr. Mercer," she said at last, rather piteously, "I--indeed I am +grateful to you, much more than grateful. But--I can't!" + +"Rubbish!" said Mercer curtly. "If you weren't a girl, I should tell you +not to be a fool!" + +She was clasping and unclasping her hands. It was to be a battle of +wills. His rough speech revealed this to her. And she was ill-equipped +for the conflict. His dominant personality seemed to deprive her of even +the desire to fight. She remembered, with a sudden, burning flush, that +she had clung to him only a little while before in her extremity of +loneliness. Doubtless he remembered it too. + +Yet she braced herself for the struggle. He could not, after all, compel +her to accept his generosity. + +"I am sorry," she said; "I am very sorry. But, you know, there is +another way in which you can help me." + +"What is that?" said Mercer. + +"If you could tell me of some respectable lodging," she said. "I have +enough for one night if the charges are moderate. And even after +that--if Robin doesn't come--I have one or two little things I might +sell. He is sure to come soon." + +"And if he doesn't?" said Mercer. + +Her fingers gripped each other. + +"I am sure he will," she said. + +"And if he doesn't?" said Mercer again. + +His persistence became suddenly intolerable. She turned on him with +something like anger--the anger of desperation. + +"Why will you persist in trying to frighten me? I know he will come. I +know he will!" + +"You don't know," said Mercer. "I am not frightening you. You were +afraid before you ever spoke to me." + +He spoke harshly, without pity, and still his eyes dwelt resolutely upon +her. He seemed to be watching her narrowly. + +She did not attempt to deny his last words. She passed them by. + +"I shall write to Bowker Creek. He may have mistaken the date." + +"He may," said Mercer, in a tone she did not understand. "But, in the +meantime, why should you turn your back upon the only friend you have at +hand? It seems to me that you are making a fuss over nothing. You have +been brought up to it, I daresay; but it isn't the fashion here. We are +taught to take things as they come, and make the best of 'em. That's +what you have got to do. It'll come easier after a bit." + +"It will never come easily to me to--to live on charity," she protested, +rather incoherently. + +"But you can pay me back," said Brett Mercer. + +She shook her head. + +"Not if--if Robin----" + +"I tell you, you can!" he insisted stubbornly. + +"How?" She turned suddenly and faced him. There was a hint of defiance, +or, rather, daring, in her manner. She met his look with unswerving +resolution. "If there is a good chance of my being able to do that," she +said, "even if--even if Robin fails me, I will accept your help." + +"You will be able to do it," said Mercer. + +"How?" she asked again. + +"I will tell you," he said, "when you are quite sure that Robin has +failed you." + +"Tell me now!" she pleaded. "If it is some work that you can find for me +to do--and I will do anything in the world that I can--it would be such +a help to me to know of it. Won't you tell me what you mean? Please do!" + +"No," said Mercer. "It is only a chance, and you may refuse it. I can't +say. You may feel it too much for you to attempt. If you do, you will +have to endure the obligation. But you shall have the chance of paying +me back if you really want it." + +"And you won't tell me what it is?" she said. + +"No." He got to his feet, and stood looking down at her. "I can't tell +you now. I am not in a position to do so. I am going away for a few +days. You will wait here till I come back?" + +"Unless Robin comes," she said. "And then, of course, I would leave you +a message." + +He nodded. + +"Otherwise you will stay here?" + +"If you are sure you wish it," she said. + +"I do. And I am going to leave you this." He laid a packet upon the +table. "It is better for you to be independent, for the sake of +appearances." His iron mouth twitched a little. "Now, good-bye! You +won't be more miserable than you can help?" + +She smiled up at him bravely. + +"No; I won't be miserable. How long shall you be gone?" + +"Possibly a week, possibly a little more." + +"But you will come back?" she said quickly, almost beseechingly. + +"I shall certainly come back," he said. + +With the words his great hand closed firmly upon hers, and she had a +curious, vagrant feeling of insecurity that she could not attempt to +analyse. Then abruptly he let her go. An instant his eyes still held +her, and then, before she could begin to thank him, he turned to the +door and was gone. + + + + +V + + +For ten days, that seemed to her like as many years, Sybil Denham waited +in the shelter into which she had been so relentlessly thrust for an +answer to her letter to Bowker Creek, and during the whole of that time +she lived apart, exchanging scarcely a word with any one. Every day, +generally twice a day, she went down to the wharf; but, she could not +bring herself to linger. The loneliness that perpetually dogged her +footsteps was almost poignant there, and sometimes she came away with +panic at her heart. Suppose Mercer also should forsake her! She had not +the faintest idea what she would do if he did. And yet, whenever she +contemplated his return, she was afraid. There was something about the +man that she had never fathomed--something ungovernable, something +brutal--from which instinctively she shrank. + +On the evening of the tenth day she received her answer--a letter from +Rollandstown by post. The handwriting she knew so well sprawled over the +envelope which her trembling fingers could scarcely open. Relief was +her first sensation, and after it came a nameless anxiety. Why had he +written? How was it--how was it that he had not come to her? + +Trembling all over, she unfolded the letter, and read: + +"Dear Sybil,--I am infernally sorry to have brought you out for nothing, +for I find that I cannot marry you after all. Things have gone wrong +with me of late, and it would be downright folly for me to think of +matrimony under existing circumstances. I am leaving this place almost +at once, so there is no chance of hearing from you again. I hope you +will get on all right. Anyhow, you are well rid of me.--Yours, + +"ROBIN." + +Beneath the signature, scribbled very faintly, were the words, "I'm +sorry, old girl; I'm sorry." + +She read the letter once, and once only; but every word stamped itself +indelibly upon her memory, every word bit its way into her consciousness +as though it had been scored upon her quivering flesh. Robin had failed +her. That ghastly presentiment of hers had come true. She was +alone--alone, and sinking in that awful whirlpool of desolation into +which for so long she had felt herself being drawn. The great waters +swirled around her, rising higher, ever higher. And she was alone. + +Hours passed. She sat in a sort of trance of horror, Robin's letter +spread out beneath her nerveless fingers. She did not ask herself what +she should do. The blow had stunned all her faculties. She could only +sit there face to face with despair, staring blind-eyed before her, +motionless, cold as marble to the very heart of her. She fancied--she +even numbly hoped--that she was going to die. + +She never heard repeated knocking at her door, or remembered that it was +locked, till a man's shoulder burst it open. Then, indeed, she turned +stiffly and looked at the intruder. + +"You!" she said. + +She had forgotten Brett Mercer. + +He came forward quickly, stooped and looked at her; then went down on +his knee and thrust his arm about her. + +She sat upright in his hold, not yielding an inch, not looking at him. +Her eyes were glassy. + +For a little he held her; then gently but insistently he drew her to +him, pillowed her head against him, and began to rub her icy cheek. + +"I've left you alone too long," he said. + +She suffered him dumbly, scarcely knowing what she did. But presently +the blood that seemed to have frozen in her veins began to circulate +again, and the stiffness passed from her limbs. She stirred in his hold +like a frightened bird. + +"I'm sorry!" she faltered. + +He let her draw away from him, but he kept his arm about her. She looked +at him, and found him intently watching her. Her eyes fell, and rested +upon the letter which lay crumpled under her hands. + +"A dreadful thing has happened to me," she said. "Robin has written to +say--to say--that he cannot marry me!" + +"What is there dreadful in that?" said Mercer. + +She did not look up, though his words startled her a little. + +"It--has made me feel like--like a stray cat again," she said, with the +ghost of a smile about her lips. "Of course, I know I'm foolish. There +must be plenty of ways in which a woman can earn her living here. You +yourself were thinking of something that I might do, weren't you?" + +"I was," said Mercer. He laid his great hand upon hers, paused a moment, +then deliberately drew her letter from beneath them and crushed it into +a ball. "But I want you to tell me something before we go into that. The +truth, mind! It must be the truth!" + +"Yes?" she questioned, with her head bent. + +"You must look at me," he said, "or I shan't believe you." + +There was something Napoleonic about his words which placed them wholly +beyond the sphere of offensiveness. Slowly she turned her head and +looked him in the eyes. + +He took his arm abruptly away from her. + +"Heavens!" he said. "How miserable you look! Are you very miserable?" + +"I'm not very happy," she said. + +"But you always smile," he said, "even when you're crying. Ah, that's +better! I scarcely knew you before. Now, tell me! Were you in love with +the fellow?" + +She shrank a little at the direct question. He put his hand on her +shoulder. His touch was imperious. + +"Just a straight answer!" he said. "Were you?" + +She hesitated, longing yet fearing to lower her eyes. + +"I--I don't quite know," she said at length. "I used to think so." + +"You haven't thought so of late?" His eyes searched hers unsparingly, +with stern insistence. + +"I haven't been sure," she admitted. + +He released her and rose. + +"You won't regret him for long," he said. "In fact, you'll live to be +glad that you didn't have him!" + +She did not contradict him. He was too positive for that. She watched +him cross the room with a certain arrogance, and close the half-open +door. As he returned she stood up. + +"Can we get to business now?" she said. + +"Business?" said Mercer. + +With a steadiness that she found somewhat difficult of accomplishment +she made reply: + +"You thought you could find me employment--some means by which I could +pay you back." + +"You still want to pay me back?" he said. + +She glanced up half nervously. + +"I know that I can never repay your kindness to me," she said. "So far +as that goes, I am in your debt for always. But--the money part I must +and will, somehow, return." + +"Being the most important part?" he suggested, halting in front of her. + +"I didn't mean to imply that," she answered. "I think you know which I +put first. But I can only do what I can, and money is repayable." + +"So is kindness," said Mercer. + +Again shyly she glanced at him. + +"I am afraid I don't quite understand." + +He sat down once more upon the table edge to bring his eyes on a level +with hers. + +"There's nothing to be scared about," he said. + +She smiled a little. + +"Oh, no; I am not scared. I believe you think me even more foolish than +I actually am." + +"No, I don't," said Mercer. "If I did, I shouldn't say what I am going +to say. As it is, you are not to answer till you have counted up to +fifty. Is that a bargain?" + +"Yes," she said, beginning to feel more curious than afraid. + +"Here goes then," said Brett Mercer. "I want a wife, and I want you. +Will you marry me? Now, shut your eyes and count!" + +But Sybil disobeyed him. She opened her eyes wide, and stared at him in +breathless amazement. + +Mercer stared back with absolute composure. + +"I'm in dead earnest," he told her. "Never made a joke in my life. Of +course, you'll refuse me. I know that. But I shan't give you up if you +do. If you don't marry me, you won't marry any one else, for I'll lick +any other man off the ground. I come first with you now, and I mean to +stay first." + +He stopped, for amazement had given place to something else on her face. +She looked at him queerly, as if irresolute for a few seconds; but she +no longer shrank from meeting his eyes. And then quite suddenly she +broke into her funny little laugh. + +"Amusing, is it?" he said. + +She turned sharply away, with one hand pressed to her mouth, obviously +struggling with herself. + +At last: + +"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to laugh really--really. Only +you--you're such a monster, and I'm such a shrimp! Please don't be vexed +with me!" + +She put out her hand to him, without turning. + +He did not take it at once. When he did, he drew her round to face him. +There was an odd restraint about the action, determined though it was. + +"Well?" he said gruffly. "Which is it to be? Am I to go to the devil, or +stay with you?" + +She looked down at the great hand that held her. She was still half +laughing, though her lips quivered. + +"I couldn't possibly marry you yet," she said. + +"No. To-morrow!" said Mercer. + +She shook her head. + +"Not even then." + +"Listen!" he said. "If you won't marry me at once you will have to come +with me without. For I am going up-country to see my farms, and I don't +mean to leave you here." + +"Can't I wait till you come back?" she said. + +"What for?" + +He leaned forward a little, trying to peer under her drooping lids. She +was trembling slightly. + +"I think you forget," she said, "that--that we hardly know each other." + +"How are we to get any nearer if I'm up-country and you're here?" he +said. + +She looked at him unwillingly. + +"You may change your mind when you have had time to think it over," she +said, colouring deeply. + +"I'll take the risk," said Mercer. "Besides"--she saw his grim smile for +an instant--"I've been thinking of nothing else since I met you." + +She started a little. + +"I--I had no idea." + +"No," he said; "I saw that. You needn't be afraid of me on that account. +It ought to have the opposite effect." + +"I am not afraid of you," she said, with a certain dignity. "But I, +too, should have time for consideration." + +"A woman doesn't need it," he asserted. "She can make up her mind at a +moment's notice." + +"And is often sorry for ever afterwards," she said smiling faintly. + +He thrust out his jaw, as if challenging her. + +"You think I shall make you sorry?" + +"No," she answered. "But I want to be quite sure." + +"Which is another reason for marrying me to-morrow," he said. "I'm not +going to let you wait. It's only a whim. You weren't created to live +alone, and there is no reason why you should. I am here, and you will +have to take me." + +"Whether I want to or not?" she said. + +"Don't you want to?" he questioned. + +She was silent. + +He lifted the hand he held and looked at it. He spanned her wrist with +his finger and thumb. + +"That's reason enough for me," he abruptly said. "You are nothing but +skin and bone. You've been starving yourself." + +"I haven't," she protested. "I haven't, indeed." + +"I don't believe you," he retorted rudely. "You weren't such a skeleton +as this when I saw you last. Come, what's the good of fighting? You'll +have to give in." + +She smiled again faintly at the rough persuasion in his voice, but still +she hesitated. + +"I shan't eat you, you know," he proceeded, pressing his advantage. "I +shan't do anything you won't like." + +She glanced at him quickly. + +"You mean that?" + +His eyes looked straight back at her. + +"Yes, I mean it." + +"Can I trust you?" she said, almost in a whisper. + +He rose to his full height, and stood before her. And in that moment an +odd little thrill went through her. He was magnificent--the finest man +she had ever seen. She caught her breath a little, feeling awed before +the immensity of his strength. But, very curiously, she no longer felt +afraid. + +"You must ask yourself that question," he said bluntly. "You have my +word." + +And with a gasp she let herself go at last. + +"I will take you on trust," she said. + + + + +VI + + +When Sybil at length travelled up-country with her husband the shearing +season had already commenced. They went by easy stages, for the heat was +great, and she was far from strong. She knew that Mercer was anxious to +reach his property, and she would have journeyed more rapidly if he +would have permitted it, but upon this point he was firm. At every turn +he considered her, and she marvelled at the intuition with which he +divined her unspoken wishes. Curt and rough though he was, his care +surrounded her in a magic circle within which she dwelt at ease. With +all his imperiousness she did not find him domineering, and this fact +was a constant marvel to her, for she knew the mastery of his will. By +some mysterious power he curbed himself, and day by day her confidence +in him grew. + +They accomplished the greater part of the journey by rail, and then when +the railway ended came the long, long ride. They travelled for five +days, spending each night at an inn at some township upon the road. +Through dense stretches of forest, through great tracts of waste +country, and again through miles of parched pasture-land they rode, and +during the whole of that journey Mercer's care never relaxed. She never +found him communicative. He would ride for hours without uttering a +word, but yet she was subtly conscious of his close attention. She knew +that she was never out of his thoughts. + +At the inns at which they rested he always saw himself to her comfort, +and the best room was always placed at her disposal. One thing impressed +her at every halt. The innkeepers one and all stood in awe of him. Not +one of them welcomed him, but not one of them failed to attend with +alacrity to his wants. It puzzled her, for she herself had never found +him really formidable. + +On the last morning of their ride, when they set forth, she surprised a +look of deep compassion in the eyes of the innkeeper's wife as she said +good-bye, and it gave her something of a shock. Why was the woman sorry +for her? Had she heard her story by any strange chance? Or was it for +some other reason? It left an unpleasant impression upon her. She wished +she had not seen it. + +They rode that day almost exclusively through Mercer's property, which +extended for many miles. He was the owner of several farms, two of which +they passed without drawing rein. He was taking her to what he called +the Home Farm, his native place, which he still made his headquarters, +and from which he overlooked the whole of his great property. + +The brief twilight had turned to darkness before they reached it. During +the last half hour Mercer rode with his hand upon Sybil's bridle, and +she was glad to have it there. She was not accustomed to riding in the +dark. Moreover, she was very tired, and when at last they turned in +through an open gateway to one side of which a solitary lantern had been +fixed, she breathed a deep sigh of thankfulness. + +She saw the outline of the house but vaguely, but in two windows lights +were burning, and as they clattered up a door was thrown open, and a man +stood silhouetted for a moment on the threshold. + +"Hullo, Curtis! Here we are!" was Mercer's greeting. "Later than I +intended, but it's a far cry from Wallarroo, and we had to take it +easy." + +"The best way," the other said. + +He went forward and quietly helped Sybil to dismount. He did not speak +to her as he did so, and she wondered a little at the reserve of his +manner. But the next moment she forgot him at the sight of a hideous +young negro who had suddenly appeared at the horses' heads. + +"It's only Beelzebub," said the man at her side, in a tired voice, as if +it were an effort to speak at all. + +She realized that the explanation was intended to be reassuring, and +laughed rather tremulously. Finding Mercer at her side she slipped her +hand into his. + +He gave it a terrific squeeze. "Come inside!" he said. "You are tired." + +They went in, Curtis following. + +In a room with a sanded floor that looked pleasantly homely to her +English eyes a meal was spread. The place and everything it contained +shone in the lamplight. She looked around her with a smile of pleasure, +notwithstanding her weariness. And then her eyes fell upon Curtis, and +found his fixed upon her. + +He averted them instantly, but she had read their expression at a +glance--surprise and compassion--and her heart gave a curious little +throb of dismay. + +She turned nevertheless without a pause to Mercer. + +"Won't you introduce me to your friend?" she said. + +"What?" said Mercer. "Oh, that's Curtis, my foreman. Curtis, this is my +wife." + +Curtis bowed stiffly, but Sybil held out her hand. + +"How nice everything looks!" she said. "I am sure we have you to thank +for it." + +"Beelzebub and me," he said; and again she was struck by the utter lack +of animation in his voice. + +He was a man of about forty, lean and brown, with an unmistakable air of +breeding about him that put her at her ease at once. His quiet manner +was a supreme contrast to Mercer's roughness. She was quite sure that he +was not colonial born. + +He sat at table with them, and waited also, but he did not utter a word +except now and again in answer to some brief query from Mercer. When the +meal was over he cleared the table and disappeared. + +She looked at Mercer in some surprise as the door closed upon him. + +"He's a useful chap," Mercer said. "I'm sorry there isn't a woman in the +house, but you'll find Beelzebub better than a dozen. And this fellow is +always at hand for anything you may want in the evening." + +"He is a gentleman," she said almost involuntarily. + +Mercer looked at her. + +"Do you object to having a gentleman to wait on you?" he asked curtly. + +She did not quite understand his tone, but she was very far just then +from understanding the man himself. His question demanded no answer, and +she gave none. + +After a moment she got up, and, conscious of an oppression in the +atmosphere, took off her hat and pushed back the hair from her face. +She knew that Mercer was watching her, felt his eyes upon her, and +wished intensely that he would speak, but he did not utter a word. There +seemed to her to be something stubborn in his silence, and it affected +her strangely. + +For a while she stood also silent, then suddenly with a little smile she +looked across at him. + +"Aren't you going to show me everything?" she said. + +"Not to-night," he said. "I will show you your bedroom if you are too +tired to stay up any longer." + +She considered the matter for a few seconds, then quietly crossed the +room to his side. She laid a hand that trembled slightly on his +shoulder. + +"You have been very good to me," she said. + +He stiffened at her touch. + +"You had better go to bed," he said gruffly, and made as if he would +rise. + +But she checked him with a dignity all her own. + +"Wait, please; I want to speak to you." + +"Not to thank me, I hope," he said. + +"No, not to thank you." She paused an instant, and seemed to hesitate. +"I--I really want to ask you something," she said at length. + +He reached up and removed her hand from his shoulder. + +"Well?" he questioned. + +"Don't hold me at arms' length!" she pleaded gently. "It makes things so +difficult." + +"What is it you want to know?" he asked without relaxing. + +She stood silent for a few seconds as if summoning all her courage. Then +at length, her voice very low, she spoke. + +"When you said that you wanted me for your wife, did you mean that +you--loved me?" + +He made an abrupt movement, and his fingers closed tightly upon her +wrist. For a moment or more he sat in tense silence, then he got to his +feet. + +"Why do you want to know?" he demanded harshly. + +She stood before him with bent head. + +"Because," she said, and there was a piteous quiver in her voice, "I am +lonely, and I have a very empty heart. And--and--if you love me it will +not frighten me to know it. It will only--make me--glad." + +He put his hand on her shoulder. "Do you know what you are saying?" he +questioned. + +"Yes," she said under her breath. + +"Are you sure?" he persisted. + +She raised her head impulsively, and, with a gesture most winning, most +confident, she stretched up her arms to him. + +"Yes," she said. "I mean it! I mean it! I want--to be loved!" + +His arms were close about her as she ended, and she uttered the last +words chokingly with her face against his breast. The effort had cost +her all her strength, and she clung to him panting, almost fainting, +while panic--wild, unreasoning panic--swept over her. What was this man +to whom she had thus impulsively given herself--this man whom all men +feared? + +Nevertheless, she grew calmer at last, awaking to the fact that though +his hold was tense and passionate, he still retained his self-control. +She commanded herself, and turned her face upwards. + +"Then you do love me?" she said tremulously. + +His eyes shone into hers, red as the inner, intolerable glow of a +furnace. He did not attempt to make reply in words. He seemed at that +moment incapable of speech. He only bent and kissed her fiercely, +burningly, even brutally, upon the lips. And so she had her answer. + + + +VII + + +It was a curious establishment over which Sybil found herself called +upon to preside. The native, Beelzebub, was her only domestic, and, as +Mercer had predicted, she found him very willing if not always +efficient. One thing she speedily discovered regarding him. He went in +deadly fear of his master, and invariably crept about like a whipped +cur in his presence. + +"Why is it?" she said to Curtis once. + +But Curtis only shrugged his shoulders in reply. + +He was a continual puzzle to her, this man. There was no servility about +him, but she had a feeling that he, too, was in some fashion under +Mercer's heel. He made himself exceedingly useful to her in his silent, +unobtrusive way; but he seldom spoke on his own initiative, and it was +some time before she felt herself to be on terms of intimacy with him. +He was an excellent cook; and he and Beelzebub between them made her +duties remarkably light. In fact, she spent most of her time riding with +her husband, who was fully occupied just then in overlooking the +shearers' work. She also was keenly interested, but he never suffered +her to go among the men. Once, when she had grown tired of waiting for +him, and followed him into one of the sheds, he was actually angry with +her--a new experience, which, if it did not seriously scare her, made +her nervous in his presence for some time afterwards. + +She had come to regard him as a man whose will was bound to be +respected, a man who possessed the power of impressing his personality +indelibly upon all with whom he came in contact. There were times when +he touched and set vibrating the very pulse of her being, times when her +heart quivered and expanded in the heat of his passion as a flower that +opens to the sun. But there were also times when he filled her with a +nameless dread, when the very foundations of her confidence were shaken, +and she felt as a prisoner behind iron bars. She did not know him, that +was her trouble. There were in him depths that she could not reach, +could scarcely even realize. He was slow to reveal himself to her, and +she had but the vaguest indications to guide her. She even felt +sometimes that he deliberately kept back from her that which she felt to +be almost the essential part of him. This she knew that time must +remedy. Living his life, she was bound ultimately to know whereof he was +made, and she tried to assure herself that when that knowledge came to +her she would not be dismayed. And yet she had occasional glimpses of +him that made her tremble. + +One evening, after they had spent the entire day in the saddle, he went +after supper to look at one of the horses that was suffering from a +cracked hock. Curtis was busy in the kitchen, and Sybil betook herself +to the step to wait for her husband. She often sat in the starlight +while he smoked his pipe. She knew that he liked to have her there. + +She was drowsy after her long exercise, and must have dozed with her +head against the door-post, when suddenly she became conscious of a +curious sound. It came from the direction of the stable which was on the +other side of the house. But for the absolute stillness of the night she +would not have heard it. She started upright in alarm, and listened +intently. + +It came again--a terrible wailing, unlike anything she had ever heard, +ending in a staccato shriek that made her blood run cold. + +She sprang up and turned into the house, almost running into Curtis, who +had just appeared in the passage behind her. + +"Oh, what is it?" she cried. "What is it? Something terrible is +happening! Did you hear?" + +She would have turned into the kitchen, that being the shortest route to +the stable, but he stretched an arm in front of her. + +"I shouldn't go if I were you," he said. "You can't do any good." + +She stood and stared at him, a ghastly fear clutching her heart. +"What--what do you mean?" she gasped. + +"It's only Beelzebub," he said, "getting hammered for his sins." + +She gripped her hands tightly over her breast. "You mean that--that my +husband--?" + +He nodded. "It won't go on much longer. I should go to bed if I were +you." + +He meant it kindly, but the words sounded to her most hideously callous. +She turned from him, sobbing hysterically, and sprang for the open door. + +The next moment she was running swiftly round the house to the stable. +Turning the corner, she heard a sound like a pistol-shot. It was +followed instantly by a scream so utterly inhuman that even then she +almost wheeled and fled. But she mastered the impulse. She reached the +stable-door, fumbled at the latch, finally burst inwards as it swung +open. + +A lantern hung on a nail immediately within. By its light she discovered +her husband--a gigantic figure--towering over something she could not +see, something that crouched, writhing and moaning, in a corner. He was +armed with a horsewhip, and even as she entered she saw him raise it and +bring it downwards with a horrible precision upon the thing at his feet. +She heard again that awful shriek of anguish, and a sick shudder went +through her. Unconsciously, a cry broke from her own lips, and, as +Mercer's arm went up again, she flung herself forward and tried to catch +it. + +In her agitation she failed. The heavy end of the whip fell upon her +outstretched arm, numbing; it to the shoulder. She heard Mercer utter a +frightful oath, and with a gasp she fell. + + +VIII + +When she came to herself she was lying on her bed. Someone--Curtis--was +bathing her arm in warm water. He did not speak to her or raise his: +eyes from his occupation. She thought he looked very grim. + +"Where is--Brett?" she whispered. + +Curtis did not answer her, but a moment later she looked beyond him and +saw Mercer leaning upon the bed-rail. His eyes were fixed upon her and +held her own. She sought to avoid them, but could not. And suddenly she +knew that he was angry with her, not merely displeased, but furiously +angry. + +She made an effort to rise, but at that Curtis laid a restraining hand +upon her, and spoke. + +"Go away, Mercer!" he said. "Haven't you done harm enough for one +night?" + +The words amazed her. She had never thought that he would dare to use +such a tone to her husband. She trembled for the result, for Mercer's +face just then was terrible, but Curtis did not so much as glance in his +direction. + +Mercer's eyes remained mercilessly fixed upon her. + +"Do you wish me to go?" he said. + +"No," she murmured faintly. + +Her arm was beginning to hurt her horribly, and she shuddered +uncontrollably once or twice. But that unvarying scrutiny was harder to +bear, and at last, in desperation, she made a quivering appeal. + +"Come and help me!" she begged. "Come and lift me up!" + +For an instant he did not stir, and she even thought he would refuse. +Then, stiffly, he straightened himself and moved round to her side. + +Stooping, he raised and supported her. But his expression did not alter; +the murderous glare was still in his eyes. She turned her face into his +breast and lay still. + +After what seemed a very long interval Curtis spoke. + +"That's all I can do for the present. I will dress it again in the +morning, and it had better be in a sling. Mercer, I should like a word +with you outside." + +Sybil stirred sharply at the brief demand. Her nerves were on edge, and +a quaking doubt shot through her as to what Mercer might do if Curtis +presumed too far. + +She laid an imploring hand on her husband's arm. + +"Stay with me!" she begged him faintly. + +He did not move or speak. + +Curtis stood up. + +"Presently, then!" he said, and she heard him move away. + +At the door he paused, and she thought he made some rapid sign to +Mercer. But the next moment she heard the door close softly, and knew +that he had gone. + +She lay quite still thereafter, her heart fluttering too much for +speech. What would he say to her, she wondered; how would he break his +silence? She had no weapon to oppose against his anger. She was as +powerless before it as Beelzebub had been. + +Suddenly he moved. He turned her head back upon his arm and looked +straight down into her eyes. She did not shrink. She would not. But her +heart died within her. She felt as if she were gazing into hell, +watching a soul in torment. + +"Well?" he said at last. "Are you satisfied?" + +"Satisfied?" she faltered. + +"As to the sort of monster you have married," he explained, with savage +bitterness. "You've been putting out feelers ever since you came here. +Did you think I didn't know? Well, you've found out a little more than +you wanted, this time. Perhaps it will be a lesson to you. +Perhaps"--sheer cruelty shone red in his eyes--"when you see what I've +done to you, you will remember that I am not a man to play with, and +that any one, man or woman, who interferes with me, must pay the price." + +"I don't know what you mean," she answered with an effort. "What +happened was an accident." + +"Was it?" he said brutally. "Was it?" + +Still she did not shrink from him. + +"Yes," she said. "It was an accident." + +"How do you know?" he asked. + +She answered him instantly. She had not realized till then that she was +fighting the flames for his soul. The knowledge came upon her suddenly, +and it gave her strength. + +"Because I know that you love me," she said. "Because--because--though +you are cruel, and though you may be wicked--I love you, too." + +She said it with absolute sincerity, but it was the hardest thing she +had ever done in her life. To tell this man who was half animal and half +fiend that he had not somehow touched the woman's heart in her seemed +almost a desecration. She saw the flare of passion leap up in his eyes, +and she was conscious for one sick moment of a feeling of downright +repulsion. If she had only succeeded in turning his savagery into +another channel she had spoken in vain; or, worse, she had made a +mistake that could never be remedied. + +Abruptly she felt her courage waver. She shrank at last. + +"I want you to understand," she faltered; and again, "I want you to +understand." + +But she could get no further. She hid her face against him and began to +sob. + +There followed a silence, tense and terrible, which she dared not break. + +Then she felt him bend lower, and suddenly his arms were under her. He +lifted her like a little child and sat down, holding her. His hand +pressed her head against his neck, fondling, soothing, consoling. And +she knew, with an overwhelming thankfulness, that she had not offered +herself in vain. She had drawn him out of his hell by the magic of her +love. + + +IX + +When morning came Mercer departed alone, and Curtis was left in charge. +Sybil lay in her room half dressed, while the latter treated her injured +arm. + +"You ought not to be up at all," he remarked, as he uncovered it. "Have +you had any sleep?" + +"Not much," she was obliged to confess. + +"Why didn't you stay in bed?" + +"I don't want--my husband--to think me very bad," she said, flushing a +little. + +"Why not?" said Curtis. And then he glanced at her, saw the flush, and +said no more. + +She watched his bandaging with interest. + +"You look so professional," she said. + +He uttered a short laugh. + +"Do I?" + +"I mean," she said, unaccountably embarrassed, "that you do it so +nicely." + +"I have done a good deal of veterinary work," he said rather coldly. And +then suddenly he seemed to change his mind. "I was a professional once," +he said, without looking at her. "I made a mistake--a bad one--and it +broke me. That's all." + +"Oh," she said impulsively, "I am so sorry." + +"Thank you," he said quietly. + +Not till he was about to leave her did she manage to ask the question +that had been uppermost in her mind since his entrance. + +"Have you seen Beelzebub yet?" + +He paused--somewhat unwillingly, she thought. + +"Yes," he answered. + +"Is he"--she hesitated--"is he very bad?" + +"He isn't going to die, if that is what you mean," said Curtis. + +She felt her heart contract. + +"Please tell me!" she urged rather faintly. "I want to know." + +With the air of a man submitting to the inevitable Curtis proceeded to +inform her. + +"He is lying in the loft over the stable, like a sick dog. He is rather +badly mauled, and whimpers a good deal. I shall take him some soup +across presently, but I don't suppose he'll touch it." + +"Ok, dear!" she said. "What shall you do then?" + +"Mercer will have to lend a hand if I can't manage him," Curtis +answered. "But I shall do my best." + +She suppressed a shudder. + +"I hope you will be successful." + +"So do I," said Curtis, departing. + +When she saw him again she asked anxiously for news; but he had none of +a cheering nature to give her. Beelzebub would not look at food. + +"I knew he wouldn't," he said. "He has been like this before." + +"Mr. Curtis!" she exclaimed. + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"It's Mercer's way. He regards the boy as his own personal property, and +so he is, more or less. He picked him up in the bush when he wasn't more +than a few days old. The mother was dead. Mercer took him, and he was +brought up among the farm men. He's a queer young animal, more like a +dog than a human being. He needs hammering now and then. I kick him +occasionally myself. But Mercer goes too far." + +"What had he done?" questioned Sybil. + +"Oh, it was some neglect of the horses. I don't know exactly what. +Mercer isn't precisely patient, you know. And when the fellow gets +thoroughly scared he's like a rabbit; he can't move. Mercer thinks him +obstinate, and the rest follows as a natural consequence. I must ask you +to excuse me. I have work to do." + +"One moment!" Sybil laid a nervous hand on his arm. "Mr. Curtis, if--if +you can't persuade the poor boy to take any food, how will my husband do +so?" + +"He won't," said Curtis. "He'll hold him down while I drench him, that's +all." + +"That must be very bad for him," she said. + +"Of course it is. But we can't let him die, you know." He looked at her +suddenly. "Don't you worry yourself, Mrs. Mercer," he said kindly. "He +isn't quite the same as a white man, though it may offend your Western +prejudices to hear me say so. Beelzebub will pull through all right. +They are wonderfully tough, these chaps." + +"I wonder if I could persuade him to take something," she said. + +He shook his head. + +"I don't suppose you could. In any case, you mustn't try. It is against +orders." + +"Whose orders?" she asked quickly. + +"Your husband's," he answered. "His last words to me were that I was on +no account to let you go near him." + +"Oh, why?" she protested. "And I might be able to help." + +"It isn't at all likely," he said. "And he's not a very pretty thing to +look at." + +"As if that matters!" she exclaimed. + +"Well, it does matter, because I don't want to have you in hysterics, as +much for my own sake as for yours." He smiled a little. "Also, if Mercer +finds he has been disobeyed it will make him savage again, and perhaps I +shall be the next victim." + +"He would never touch you!" she exclaimed. + +"He might. Why shouldn't he?" + +"He never would!" she reiterated. "You are not afraid of him." + +He looked contemptuous for a second; and then his expression changed. + +"You are right," he said. "That is my chief safeguard; and, permit me to +say, yours also. It may be worth remembering." + +"You think him a coward!" she said. + +He considered a little. + +"No, not a coward," he said then. "There is nothing mean about him, so +far as I can see. He suffers from too much raw material, that's all. +They call him Brute Mercer in these parts. But perhaps you will be able +to tame him some day." + +"I!" she said, and turned away with a mournful little smile. + +She might charm him once or even twice out of a savage mood, but the +conviction was strong upon her that he would overwhelm her in the end. + + +X + +For nearly an hour after Curtis had left her she sat still, thinking of +Beelzebub. The afternoon sunlight lay blindingly upon all things. The +heat of it hung laden in the air. But she could not sleep or even try to +rest. Her arm throbbed and burned with a ceaseless pain, and ever the +thought of Beelzebub, lying in the loft "like a sick dog," oppressed her +like an evil dream. + +The shadows had begun to lengthen a little when at last she rose. She +could bear it no longer. Whatever the consequences, she could endure +them more easily than this torture of inactivity. As for Curtis she +believed him fully capable of taking care of himself. + +She went to the kitchen and was relieved to find him absent. Searching, +she presently found the bowl of soup Beelzebub had refused. She turned +it into a saucepan and hung over the fire, scarcely conscious of the +heat in her pressing desire to be of use. + +Finally, armed with the hot liquor, she stole across the yard to the +stable. The place was deserted, save for the horse she usually rode, who +whinnied softly to her as she passed. At the foot of the loft ladder +she stood awhile, listening, and presently heard a heavy groan. + +She had to make the ascent very slowly, using her injured arm to support +herself. When she emerged at last she found herself in a twilight which +for a time her dazzled eyes could not pierce. The heat was intolerable, +and the place hummed with flies. + +"Beelzebub!" she said softly at length. "Beelzebub, where are you?" + +There was a movement in what she dimly discerned to be a heap of straw, +and she heard a feeble whimpering as of an animal in pain. + +Her heart throbbed with pity as she crept across the littered floor. She +was beginning to see more distinctly, and by sundry chinks she +discovered the loft door. She went to it, fumbled for the latch, and +opened it. Instantly the place was flooded with light, and turning +round, she beheld Beelzebub. + +He was lying in a twisted heap in the straw, half naked, looking like +some monstrous reptile. In all her life she had never beheld anything so +horrible. His black flesh was scored over and over with long purple +stripes; even his face was swollen almost beyond recognition, and out of +it the whites of his eyes gleamed, bloodshot and terrible. + +For a few moments she was possessed by an almost overpowering desire to +flee from the awful sight; and then again he stirred and whimpered, and +pity--element most divine--came to her aid. + +She went to the poor, whining creature, and knelt beside him. + +"See!" she said. "I have brought you some soup. Do try and take a +little! It will do you good." + +There was a note of entreaty in her voice, but Beelzebub's eyes stared +as though they would leap out of his head. + +He writhed away from her into the straw. "Go 'way, missis!" he hissed at +her, with lips drawn back in terror. "Go 'way, or Boss'll come and beat +Beelzebub!" + +He spoke the white man's language; it was the only one he knew, but +there was something curiously unfamiliar, something almost bestial in +the way he spat his words. + +Again Sybil was conscious of a wild desire to escape before sheer horror +paralysed her limbs, but she fought and conquered the impulse. + +"Boss won't beat you any more," she said. "And I want you to be a good +boy and drink this before I go. I brought it myself, because I knew you +would take it to please me. You will, won't you, Beelzebub?" + +But Beelzebub was not to be easily persuaded. He cried and moaned and +writhed at every word she spoke. But Sybil had mastered herself, and she +was very patient. She coaxed him as though he had been in truth the sick +dog to which Curtis had likened him. And at last, by sheer persistence, +she managed to insert the spoon between his chattering teeth. + +He let her feed him then, lying passive, still whimpering between every +gulp, while she talked soothingly, scarcely knowing what she said in the +resolute effort to keep her ever-recurring horror at bay. When the bowl +was empty she rose. + +"Perhaps you will go to sleep now," she said kindly. "Suppose you try!" + +He stared up at her from his lair with rolling, uneasy eyes. Suddenly he +pointed to her bandaged arm. + +"Boss did that!" he croaked. + +She turned to close the door again, feeling the blood rise in her face. + +"Boss didn't mean to," she answered with as much steadiness as she could +muster. "And he didn't mean to hurt you so badly, either, Beelzebub. He +was sorry afterwards." + +She saw his teeth gleam in the twilight like the bared fangs of a wolf, +and knew that he grinned in derision of this statement. She picked up +her bowl and turned to go. At the same instant he spoke in a piercing +whisper out of the darkness. + +"Boss kill a white man once, missis!" + +She stood still, rooted to the spot. "Beelzebub!" + +He shrank away, whimpering. + +"No, no! Boss'll kill poor Beelzebub! Missis won't tell Boss?" + +To her horror his hand shot out and fastened upon her skirt. But she +could not have moved in any case. She stood staring down at him, +cold--cold to the very heart with foreboding. + +"No," she said at last, and it was as if she stood apart and listened to +another woman, very calm and collected, speaking on her behalf. "I will +never tell him, Beelzebub. You will be quite safe with me. So tell me +what you mean! Don't be afraid! Speak plainly! When did Boss kill a +white man?" + +There must have been something of compulsion in her manner, for, albeit +quaveringly and with obvious terror, the negro answered her. + +"Down by Bowker Creek, missis, 'fore you come. Boss and the white man +fight--a dam' big fight. Beelzebub run away. Afterwards, Boss, come on +alone. So Beelzebub know that Boss kill' the white man." + +"Oh, then you didn't see him killed! You don't know?" + +Was it her own lips uttering the words? They felt quite stiff and +powerless. + +"Beelzebub run away," she heard him repeating rather vacantly. + +"What did they fight with?" she said. + +"They fight with their hands," he told her. "White man from Bowker Creek +try to shoot Boss, and make Boss very angry." + +"But perhaps he wasn't killed," she insisted to herself. "Of course--of +course, he wasn't. You shouldn't say such things, Beelzebub. You +weren't there to see." + +Beelzebub shuffled in the straw and whined depreciatingly. + +"Tell me," she heard the other woman say peremptorily, "what was the +white man's name?" + +But Beelzebub only moaned, and she was forced to conclude that he did +not know. + +"Where is Bowker Creek?" she asked next. + +He could not tell her. His intelligence seemed to have utterly deserted +him. + +She stood silent, considering, while he coiled about revoltingly in the +straw at her feet. + +Suddenly through the afternoon silence there came the sound of a horse's +hoofs. She started, and listened. + +Beelzebub frantically clutched at her shoes. + +"Missis won't tell Boss!" he implored again. "Missis won't----" + +She stepped desperately out of his reach. + +"Hush!" she said. "Hush! He will hear you. I must go. I must go at +once." + +Emergency gave her strength. She moved to the trap-door, and, she knew +not how, found the ladder with her feet. + +Grey-faced, dazed, and cold as marble, she descended. Yet she did not +stumble. Her limbs moved mechanically, unfalteringly. + +When she reached the bottom she turned with absolute steadiness and +found Brett Mercer standing in the doorway watching her. + +XI + +He stood looking at her in silence as she came forward. She did not stop +to ascertain if he were angry or not. Somehow it did not seem to matter. +She only dealt with the urgent necessity for averting his suspicion. + +"I just ran across with some soup for Beelzebub," she said, her pale +face raised unflinchingly. "I am glad to say he has taken it. Please +don't go up! I want him to get to sleep." + +She spoke, with a wholly unconscious authority. The supreme effort she +was making seemed to place her upon a different footing. She laid a +quiet hand upon his arm and drew him out of the stable. + +He went with her as one surprised into submission. One of the farm men +who had taken his horse stared after them in amazement. + +As they crossed the yard together Mercer found his voice. + +"I told Curtis you weren't to go near Beelzebub." + +"I know," she answered. "Mr. Curtis told me." + +He cracked his whip savagely. + +"Where is Curtis?" + +"I don't know," she answered. "But, Brett, if you are angry because I +went you must deal with me, not with Mr. Curtis. He had nothing whatever +to do with it." + +Mercer was silent, and she divined with no sense of elation that he +would not turn his anger against her. + +They entered the house together, and he strode through the passage, +calling for Curtis. But when the latter appeared in answer to the +summons, to her surprise Mercer began to speak upon a totally different +subject. + +"I have just seen Stevens from Wallarroo. They are all in a mortal funk +there. He was on his way over here to ask you to go and look at a man +who is very bad with something that looks like smallpox. You can please +yourself about going; though, if you take my advice, you'll stay away." + +Curtis did not at once reply. He gravely took the empty bowl from +Sybil's hand, and it was upon her that his eyes rested as he finally +said, "Do you think you could manage without me?" + +She looked up with perfect steadiness. + +"Certainly I could. Please do as you think right!" + +"What about Beelzebub?" he said. + +Mercer made a restless movement. + +"He will be on his legs again in a day or two. One of the men must look +after him." + +"I shall look after him," Sybil said, with a calmness of resolution that +astounded both her hearers. + +Mercer put his hand on her shoulder, but said nothing. It was Curtis who +spoke with the voice of authority. + +"You will have to take care of her," he said bluntly. "Bear in mind what +I said to you last night! I will show you how to treat the arm. And then +I think I had better go. It may prevent an epidemic." + +Thereafter he assumed so businesslike an air that he seemed to Sybil to +be completely transformed. There never had been much deference in his +attitude towards Mercer, but he treated him now without the smallest +ceremony. He was as a man suddenly awakened from a long lethargy. From +that moment to the moment of his departure his activity was unceasing. + +Sybil and Mercer watched him finally ride away, and it was not till he +was actually gone that the fact that she was left absolutely alone with +her husband came home to her. + +With a sense of shock she realized it, and those words of +Beelzebub's--the words that she had been so resolutely forcing into the +back of her mind--came crowding back upon her with a vividness and +persistence that were wholly beyond her control. + +What was she going to do, she wondered? What could she do with this +awful, this unspeakable doubt pressing ever upon her? It might all be a +mistake, a hideous mistake on Beelzebub's part. She had no great faith +in his intelligence. It might be that by some evil chance his muddled +brain had registered the name of Bowker Creek in connection with the +fight which she did not for a moment doubt had at some time taken +place. Beelzebub was never reliable in the matter of details, and he +had not been able to answer her question regarding the place. + +Over and over again she tried to convince herself that her fear was +groundless, and over and over again the words came back to her, refusing +to be forgotten or ignored--"the white man from Bowker Creek." Who was +this white man whom Mercer had fought, this man who had tried to shoot +him? She shuddered whenever she pictured the conflict. She was horribly +afraid. + +Yet she played her part unfalteringly, and Mercer never suspected the +seething anguish of suspense and uncertainty that underlay her steadfast +composure. He thought her quieter than usual, deemed her shy; and he +treated her in consequence with a tenderness of which she had not +believed him capable--a tenderness that wrung her heart. + +She was thankful when the morning came, and he left her, for the strain +was almost more than she could endure. + +But in the interval of solitude that ensued she began to build up her +strength anew. Alone with her doubts, she faced the fact that she would +probably never know the truth. She could not rely upon Beelzebub for +accuracy, and she could not refer to her husband. The only course open +to her was to bury the evil thing as deeply as might be, to turn her +face resolutely away from it, to forget--oh, Heaven, if she could but +forget! + +All through that day Beelzebub slept, curled up in the straw. She +visited him several times, but he needed nothing. Nature had provided +her own medicine for his tortured body. In the evening a man came with a +note from Curtis. The case was undoubtedly one of smallpox, he wrote, +and he did not think his patient would recover. There was a good deal of +panic at Wallarroo, and he had removed the man to a cattle-shed at some +distance from the township where they were isolated. There were one or +two things he needed which he desired Mercer to send on the following +day to a place he described, whence he himself would fetch them. + +"Beelzebub can go," said Mercer. + +"If he is well enough!" said Sybil. + +He frowned. + +"You don't seem to realize what these niggers are made of. Of course, he +will be well enough." + +She said no more, for she saw that the topic was unwelcome; but she +determined to make a stand on Beelzebub's behalf the next day, unless +his condition were very materially improved. + + +XII + +It was with surprise and relief that upon entering the kitchen on the +following morning Sybil found Beelzebub back in his accustomed place. He +greeted her with a wider grin than usual, which she took for an +expression of gratitude. He seemed to have made a complete recovery, for +which she was profoundly thankful. + +She herself was feeling better that day. Her arm pained her less, and +she no longer carried it in a sling. She had breakfasted in bed, Mercer +himself waiting upon her. + +She was amazed to hear him speak with kindness to Beelzebub, and even +ask the boy if he thought he could manage the ride to Wallarroo. +Beelzebub, abjectly eager to return to favour, professed himself ready +to start at once. And so presently Sybil found herself alone. + +The long day passed without event. The loneliness did not oppress her. +She busied herself with preparing delicacies for the sick man, which +Beelzebub could take on the following day. Beelzebub had had smallpox, +and knew no fear. + +He did not return from his errand till the afternoon was well advanced. +She went to the door to hear his news, but he was in his least +intelligent mood, and seemed able to tell her very little. By dint of +close questioning she elicited that he had seen Curtis, who had told him +that the man was worse. Beyond this, Beelzebub appeared to know nothing; +and yet there was something about him that excited her attention. He +seemed more than once to be upon the point of saying something, and to +fail at the last moment, as though either his wits or his courage were +unequal to the effort. She could not have said what conveyed this +impression, but it was curiously strong. She tried hard to elicit +further information, but Beelzebub only became more idiotic in response, +and she was obliged to relinquish the attempt. + +Mercer came in soon after, and she dismissed the matter from her mind. +But a vivid dream recalled it. She started up in the night, agitated, +incoherent, crying that someone wanted her, someone who could not wait, +and she must go. She could not tell her husband what the dream had been +and in the morning all memory of it had vanished. But it left a vague +disquietude behind, a haunting anxiety that hung heavily upon her. She +could not feel at peace. + +Mercer left that morning. He had to go a considerable distance to an +outlying farm. She saw him off from the gate, and then went back into +the house, still with that inexplicable sense of oppression weighing her +down. + +She prepared the parcel that she purposed to send to Curtis, and went in +search of Beelzebub. He was sweeping the kitchen. + +"I shall want you to go to Wallarroo again to-day," she said. "You had +better start soon, as I should like Mr. Curtis to get this in good +time." + +Beelzebub stopped sweeping, and cringed before her. + +"Boss gone?" he questioned cautiously. + +"Yes," she answered, wondering what was coming. + +He drew a little nearer to her, still cringing. + +"Missis," he whispered piercingly, "Beelzebub see the white man +yesterday." + +She stared at him. + +"What white man, Beelzebub? What do you mean?" + +"White man from Bowker Creek," said Beelzebub. + +Her breathing stopped suddenly. She felt as if she had been stabbed. +"Where!" she managed to gasp. + +Beelzebub looked vacant. There was evidently something that she was +expected to understand. She forced her startled brain into activity. + +"Is he the man who is ill--the man Mr. Curtis is taking care of?" + +Beelzebub looked intelligent again. + +"White man very bad," he said. + +"But--but--how was it you saw him? You were told to leave the parcel by +the fence for Mr. Curtis to fetch." + +Beelzebub exerted himself to explain. + +"Mr. Curtis away, so Beelzebub creep up close and look in. But the white +man see Beelzebub and curse; so Beelzebub go away again." + +"And that is the man you thought Boss killed?" Sybil questioned, relief +and fear strangely mingled within her. + +Her brain was beginning to whirl, but with all her strength she +controlled it. Now or never would she know the truth. + +Beelzebub was scared by the question. + +"Missis won't tell Boss?" he begged. + +"No, no," she said impatiently. "When will you learn that I never repeat +things? Now, Beelzebub, I want you to do something for me. Can you +remember? You are to ask Mr. Curtis to tell you the white man's name. +Say that Boss--do you understand?--say that Boss wants to know! And then +come back as fast as you possibly can, before Boss gets home to-night, +and tell me!" + +She repeated these instructions many times over till it seemed +impossible that he could make any mistake. And then she watched him go, +and set herself with a heart like lead to face the interminable day. + +She thought the hours would never pass, so restless was she, so +continuous the torment of doubt that vexed her soul. There were times +when she felt that if the thing she feared were true, it would kill her. +If her husband--the man whom, in spite of almost every instinct, she had +learnt to love--had deceived her, if he had played a double game to win +her, if, in short, the man he had fought at Bowker Creek were Robin +Wentworth, then she felt as if life for her were over. She might +continue to exist, indeed, but the heart within her would be dead. There +would be nothing left her but the grey ruins of that which had scarcely +begun to be happiness. + +She tried hard to compose herself, but all her strength could not still +the wild fluttering of her nerves through the long-drawn-out suspense +of that dreadful day. At every sound she hastened to the door to look +for Beelzebub, long before he could possibly return. At the striking of +every hour she strained her ears to listen. + +But when at last she heard the hoof-beats that told of the negro's +approach she felt that she could not go again; she lacked the physical +strength to seek him and hear the truth. + +For a time she sat quite still, gathering all her forces for the ordeal. +Then at length she compelled herself, and rose. + +Beelzebub was grooming his horse. He looked up at her approach and +grinned. + +"Well, Beelzebub," she said through her white lips, "have you seen Mr. +Curtis?" + +"Yes, missis." Beelzebub rolled his eyes intelligently. He seemed +unaware of the tragedy in the English girl's drawn face. + +"And the white man?" she said. + +"Mr. Curtis think the white man die soon," said Beelzebub. + +"Ah!" She pressed her hand tightly against her heart. She felt as if its +throbbing would choke her. "And--his name?" she said. + +Beelzebub paused and opened his eyes to their widest extent. He was +making a supreme effort, and the result was monstrous. But Sybil did not +quail; she scarcely saw him. + +"His name?" she said; and again, raising her voice, "His name?" + +The whole world seemed to rock while she waited, but she stood firm in +the midst of chaos. Her whole soul was concentrated upon Beelzebub's +reply. + +It came at last with the effect of something uttered from an immense +distance that was yet piercingly distinct. + +"Went--" said Beelzebub, and paused; then, with renewed effort, +"Wentworth." + +And Sybil turned from him, shrinking as though something evil had +touched her, and walked stiffly back into the house. She had known it +all day long! + + + +XIII + + +She never knew afterwards how long a time elapsed between the +confirmation of her doubts and the sudden starting to life of a new +resolution within her. It came upon her unexpectedly, striking through +the numbness of her despair, nerving her to action--the memory of her +dream and whence that dream had sprung. Robin Wentworth still lived. It +might be he would know her. It might even be that he was wanting her. +She would go to him. + +It was the only thing left for her to do. Of the risk to herself she did +not think, nor would it have deterred her had it presented itself to her +mind. She felt as though he had called to her, and she had not +answered. + +To Beelzebub's abject entreaties she paid no heed. There were two fresh +horses in the stable, and she ordered him to saddle them both. He did +not dare to disobey her in the matter, but she knew that no power on +earth would have induced him to remain alone at the farm till Mercer's +coming. + +She left no word to explain her absence. There seemed no time for any +written message, nor was she in a state of mind to frame one. She was +driven by a consuming fever that urged her to perpetual movement. It did +not seem to matter how the tidings of her going came to Mercer. + +Not till she was in the saddle and riding, riding hard, did she know a +moment's relief. The physical exertion eased the inward tumult, but she +would not slacken for an instant. She felt that to do so would be to +lose her reason. Beelzebub, galloping after her, thought her demented +already. + +Through the long, long pastures she travelled, never drawing rein, +looking neither to right nor left. The animal she rode knew the way to +Wallarroo, and followed it undeviatingly. The sun was beginning to +slant, and the shadows to lengthen. + +Mile after mile of rolling grassland they left behind them, and still +they pressed forward. At last came the twilight, brief as the soft +sinking of a curtain, and then the dark. But the night was ablaze with +stars, and the road was clear. + +Sybil rode as one in a nightmare, straining forward eternally. She did +not urge her horse, but he bore her so gallantly that she did not need +to do so. Beelzebub had increasing difficulty in keeping up with her. + +At last, after what seemed like the passage of many hours, they sighted +from afar the lights of Wallarroo. Sybil drew rein, and waited for +Beelzebub. + +"Which way?" she said. + +He pointed to a group of trees upon a knoll some distance from the road, +and thither she turned her horse's head. Beelzebub rode up beside her. + +They left the knoll on one side, and, skirting it, came to a dip in the +hill-side. And here they came at length to the end of their journey--a +journey that to Sybil had seemed endless--and halted before a wooden +shed that had been built for cattle. A flap of canvas had been nailed +above the entrance, behind which a dim light burned. Sybil dismounted +and drew near. + +At first she heard no sound; then, as she stood hesitating and +uncertain, there came a man's voice that uttered low, disjointed words. +She thought for a second that someone was praying, and then, with a +thrill of horror, she knew otherwise. The voice was uttering the most +fearful curses she had ever heard. + +Scarcely knowing what she did, but unable to stand there passively +listening, she drew aside the canvas flap and looked in. + +In an instant the voice ceased. There fell a silence, followed by a +wild, half-strangled cry. She had a glimpse of a prone figure in a +corner struggling upwards, and then Curtis was before her--Curtis +haggard and agitated as she had never seen him--pushing her back out of +the dim place into the clean starlight without. + +"Mrs. Mercer! Are you mad?" she heard him say. + +She resisted his compelling hands; she was strangely composed and +undismayed. + +"I am coming in," she said. "Nothing on earth will keep me back. That +man--Robin Wentworth--is a friend of mine. I am going to see him and +speak to him." + +"Impossible!" Curtis said. + +But she withstood him unfalteringly. + +"It is not impossible. You must let me pass. I mean to go to him, and +you cannot prevent it." + +He saw the hopelessness of opposing her. Her eyes told him that it was +no whim but steadfast purpose that had brought her there. He looked +beyond her to Beelzebub, but gathered no inspiration in that quarter. + +"Let me pass, Mr. Curtis!" said Sybil gently. "I shall take no harm. I +must see him before he dies." + +And Curtis yielded. He was worn out by long and fruitless watching, and +he could not cope with this fresh emergency. He yielded to her +insistence, and suffered her to pass him. + +"He is very far gone," he said. + + + + +XIV + + +As Sybil entered she heard again that strange, choked cry. The sick man +was struggling to rise, but could not. + +She went straight to the narrow pallet on which he lay and bent over +him. + +"Robin!" she said. + +He gave a great start, and became intensely still, lying face downwards, +his body twisted, his head on his arm. + +She stooped lower. She touched him. A superhuman strength was hers. + +"Robin," she said, "do you know me?" + +He turned his face a little, and she saw the malignant horror of the +disease that gripped him. It was a sight that would have turned her sick +at any other time. But to-night she knew no weakness. + +"Who are you?" he said, in a gasping whisper. + +"I am Sybil," she answered steadfastly. "Don't you remember me?" + +He lay motionless for a little, his breathing sharp and short. At +length: + +"You had better get away from this pestilent hole," he panted out. "It's +no place for a woman." + +"I have come to nurse you," she said. + +"You!" He seemed to collect himself with an effort. He turned his face +fully towards her. "Didn't you marry that devil Mercer, after all?" he +gasped, gazing up at her with glassy eyes. + +Only by his eyes would she have known him--this man whom once long ago +she had fancied that she loved--and even they were strained and +unfamiliar. She bent her head in answer. "Yes, Robin, I married him." + +He began to curse inarticulately, spasmodically; but that she would not +have. She knelt down suddenly by his side, and took his hand in hers. +The terrible, disfigured countenance did not appal her, though the +memory of it would haunt her all her life. + +"Robin, listen!" she said earnestly. "We may not have very long +together. Let us make the most of what time we have! Don't waste your +strength! Try to tell me quietly what happened, how it was you gave me +up! I want to understand it all. I have never yet heard the truth." + +Her quiet words, the steady pressure of her hand, calmed him. He lay +still for a space, gazing at her. + +"You're not afraid?" he muttered at last. + +"No," she said. + +He continued to stare at her. + +"Is he--good to you?" he said. + +The words came with difficulty. She saw his throat working with the +convulsive effort to produce sound. + +Curtis touched her arm. "Give him this!" + +She took a cup from his hand, and held it to the swollen lips. But he +could not swallow. The liquid trickled down into his beard. + +"He's past it," murmured Curtis. + +"Sybil!" The words came with a hard, rending sound. "Is he--good to +you?" + +She was wiping away the spilt drops with infinite, unfaltering +tenderness. + +"Yes, dear," she answered. "He is very good to me." + +He uttered a great gasping sigh. + +"That's--all--that matters," he said, and fell silent, still gazing at +her with eyes that seemed too fixed to take her in. + +In the long, long silence that followed no one moved. But for those wild +eyes Sybil would have thought him sleeping. + +Minutes passed, and at last Curtis spoke under his breath. + +"You had better go. You can't do any more." + +But she would not stir. She had a feeling that Robin still wanted her. + +Suddenly through the night silence there came a sound--the hoof-beats of +a galloping horse. + +She turned her head and listened. "What is that?" + +As if in answer, Beelzebub's black face appeared in the entrance. His +eyes were distended with fright. + +"Missis!" he hissed in a guttural whisper. + +"Here's Boss comin'!" and disappeared again like a monstrous goblin. + +Sybil glanced up at Curtis. "Don't let him come here!" she said. + +But for once he seemed to be at a loss. He made no response to her +appeal. While they waited, the hoofs drew steadily nearer, thudding over +the grass. + +"Mr. Curtis!" she said urgently. + +He made a sharp, despairing gesture. "I can't help it," he said. "You +must go. For Heaven's sake, don't let him touch you, and burn the +clothes you have on as soon as possible! I am going to set fire to this +place immediately." + +"Going to--set fire to it?" She stared at him in surprise, still +scarcely understanding. + +"The poor chap is dead," he said. "It's the only thing to do." + +She turned back to the face upon the pillow with its staring, sightless +eyes. She raised a pitying hand to close them, but Curtis intervened. + +He drew her to her feet. "Go!" he said. "Go! Keep Mercer away, that's +all!" + +She heard the jingling of a horse's bit and knew that the rider was very +near. Mechanically almost, she turned from the place of death and went +to meet him. + + + +XV + + +He was off his horse and striding for the entrance when she encountered +him. The starlight on his face showed it livid and terrible. At sight +of her he stopped short. + +"Are you mad?" he said. + +They were the identical words that Curtis had used; but his voice, +hoarse, unnatural, told her that he was in a dangerous mood. + +She backed away from him. "Don't come near me!" she said quickly. +"He--he is just dead. And I have been with him." + +"He?" he flung at her furiously, and she knew by his tone that he +suspected the truth. + +She tried to answer him steadily, but her strength was beginning to fail +her. The long strain was telling upon her at last. She was uncertain of +herself. + +"It--was Robin Wentworth," she said. + +He took a swift stride towards her. His face was convulsed with passion. +"You came here to see that soddened cur?" he said. + +She shrank away from him. The tempest of his anger overwhelmed her. She +could not stand against it. For the first time she quailed. + +"I have seen him," she said. "And he is dead. Ah, don't--don't touch +me!" + +He paid no attention to her cry. He seized her by the shoulders and +almost swung her from his path. + +"It would have been better for you," he said between his teeth, "if he +had died before you got here. You have begun to repent already, and +you'll go on repenting for the rest of your life." + +"What are you going to do?" she cried, seeing him turn. "Brett, don't go +in there! Don't! Don't! You must not! You shall not!" + +In a frenzy of fear she threw herself upon him, struggling with all her +puny strength to hold him back. + +"I tell you he is dead!" she gasped. "Why do you want to go in?" + +"I am going to see for myself," he said stubbornly, putting her away. + +"No!" she cried. "No!" + +His eyes gleamed red with a savage fury as she clung to him afresh. He +caught her wrists, forcing her backwards. + +"I don't believe he is dead!" he snarled. + +"He is! He is! Mr. Curtis told me so." + +"If he isn't, I'll murder him!" Brett Mercer vowed, and flung her +fiercely from him. + +She fell with violence and lay half-stunned, while he, blinded with +rage, possessed by devils, strode forward into that silent place, +leaving her prone. + +She thought later that she must have fainted, for the next thing she +knew--and it must have been after the passage of several minutes--was +Mercer kneeling beside her and lifting her. His touch was perfectly +gentle, but she dared not look into his face. She cowered in his arms in +mortal fear. He had crushed her at last. + +"Have I hurt you?" he said. + +She did not answer. Her voice was gone. She was as powerless as an +infant. He raised her and bore her steadily away. + +When he paused finally, it was to speak to Beelzebub, who was holding +the horses. And then, without a word to her, he lifted her up on to a +saddle, and mounted himself behind her. She lay against his breast as +one dazed, incapable of speech or action. And so, with his arm about +her, moving slowly through a world of shadows, they began the long, long +journey back. + +They travelled so for the greater part of the night, and during the +whole of that time Mercer never uttered a word. The horse he rode was +jaded, and he did not press it. Beelzebub, with the other two, rode far +ahead. + +It was still dark when at last they turned in to the Home Farm, and, +still in that awful silence, Mercer dismounted and lifted his wife to +the ground. + +He set her on her feet, but her limbs trembled so much that she could +scarcely stand. He kept his arm around her, and led her into the house. + +He took her to her room and left her there; but in a few minutes he +returned with food on a tray which he set before her without raising his +eyes, and again departed. She did not see him again for many hours. + + + +XVI + + +From sheer exhaustion she slept at last, but her sleep was broken and +unrefreshing. She turned and tossed, dozing and waking in utter +weariness of mind and body till the day was far advanced. Finally, too +restless to lie any longer, she arose and dressed. + +The sound of voices took her to her window before she left her room, and +she saw her husband on horseback with Curtis standing by his side. A +sense of relief shot through her at sight of the latter. She had come to +rely upon him more than she knew. While she watched, Mercer raised his +bridle and rode slowly away without a backward glance. And again she was +conscious of relief. + +Curtis stood looking after him for a few seconds, then turned and +entered the house. + +She met him in the passage outside her room. He greeted her gravely. + +"I was just coming to see if I could do anything for you," he said. + +"Thank you," she answered nervously. "I am better now. Where has my +husband gone?" + +He did not answer her immediately. He turned aside to the room in which +she generally sat, standing back for her to pass him. "I have something +to say to you," he said. + +She glanced at him anxiously as she took the chair he offered her. + +"In the first place," he said, "you will be wise if you keep absolutely +quiet for the next few days. There will be nothing to disturb you. +Mercer is not returning at present. He has left you in my charge." + +"Oh, why?" she said. + +Her hands were locked together. She had begun to tremble from head to +foot. + +Curtis was watching her quietly. + +"I think," he said, "that he is better away from you for a time, and he +agrees with me." + +"Why?" she said again, lifting her piteous eyes. "Is he so angry with +me?" + +"With you? No. He has come to his senses in that respect. But he is not +in a particularly safe mood, and he knows it. He has gone to fight it +out by himself." + +Curtis paused, but Sybil did not speak. Her attitude had relaxed. He +read unmistakble relief in every line. + +"Well, now," he said deliberately, "I am going to tell you the exact +truth of this business, as Mercer himself has told it to me." + +"He wishes me to know it?" she asked quickly. + +"He is willing that I should tell you," Curtis answered. "In fact, until +he saw me to-day he believed that you knew it already. That was the +primary cause of his savagery last night. You have probably formed a +very shrewd suspicion of what happened, but it is better for you to know +things as they actually stand. If it makes you hate him--well, it's no +more than he deserves." + +"Ah, but I have to live with him," she broke in, with sudden passion. +"It is easy for you to talk of hating him, but I--I am his wife. I must +go on living by his side, whatever I may feel." + +"Yes, I know," Curtis said. "But it won't make it any easier for either +of you to feel that there is this thing between you. Even he sees that. +You can't forgive him if you don't know what he has done." + +"Then why doesn't he tell me himself?" she said. + +"Because," Curtis answered, looking at her steadily, "it will be easier +for you to hear it from me. He saw that, too." + +She could not deny it, but for some reason it hurt her to hear him say +so. She had a feeling that it was to Curtis's insistence, rather than to +her husband's consideration, that she owed this present respite. + +"I will listen to you, then," she said. + +Curtis began to walk up and down the room. + +"First, with regard to Wentworth," he said. "There was a time once when +he occupied very much the position that I now hold. He was Mercer's +right-hand man. But he took to drink, and that did for him. I am afraid +he was never very sound. Anyhow, Mercer gave him up, and he disappeared. + +"After he had gone, after I took his place, we found out one or two +things he had done which might have landed him in prison if Mercer had +followed them up. However, the man was gone, and it didn't seem worth +while to track him. It was not till afterwards that we heard he was at +Bowker Creek, and Mercer was then on the point of starting for England, +and decided to leave him alone. + +"It's a poor place--Bowker Creek. He had got a job there as boundary +rider. I suppose he counted on the shearing season to set him up. But he +wasn't the sort of chap who ever gets on. And when Mercer met you on his +way out from the old country it was something of a shock to him to hear +that you were on your way to marry Robin Wentworth. + +"Of course, he ought to have told you the truth, but instead of that he +made up his mind to take the business into his own hands and marry you +himself. He cabled from Colombo to Wentworth to wait for him at Bowker +Creek, hinted that if he went to the coast he would have him arrested, +and said something vague about coming to an understanding which induced +Wentworth to obey orders. + +"Then he came straight here and pressed on to Rollandstown, taking +Beelzebub with him to show him the short cuts. It's a hard day's ride in +any case. He reached Bowker Creek the day after, and had it out with +Wentworth. The man had been drinking, was unreasonable, furious, finally +tried to shoot him. + +"Well, you know Mercer. He won't stand that sort of thing. He thrashed +him within an inch of his life, and then made him write and give you up. +It was a despicable affair from start to finish. Mercer's only excuse +was that Wentworth was not the sort of man to make any woman happy. +Finally, when he had got what he wanted, Mercer left him, after swearing +eternal vengeance on him if he ever came within reach of you. The rest +you know." + +Yes, Sybil knew the rest. She understood the whole story from beginning +to end, realized with what unscrupulous ingenuity she had been trapped +and wondered bitterly if she would ever endure her husband's presence +again without the shuddering sense of nausea which now overcame her at +the bare thought of him. + +She sat in stony silence, till at last Curtis paused beside her. + +"I want you to rest," he said. "I think, if you don't, the consequences +may be serious." + +She looked up at him uncomprehendingly. + +"Come, Mrs. Mercer!" he said. + +She shrank at the name. + +"Don't call me that!" she said, and stumbled uncertainly to her feet. +"I--I am going away." + +He put a steadying hand on her shoulder. + +"You can't," he said quietly. "You are not fit for it. Besides, there is +nowhere for you to go to. But I will get Mrs. Stevens, the innkeeper's +wife at Wallarroo, to come to you for a time. She is a good sort, you +can count on her. As for Mercer, he will not return unless you--or +I--send for him." + +She shivered violently, uncontrollably. + +"You will never send for him?" + +"Never," he answered, "unless you need him." + +She glanced around her wildly. Her eyes were hunted. + +"Why do you say that?" she gasped. + +"I think you know why I say it," said Curtis very steadily. + +Her hands were clenched. + +"No!" she cried back sharply. "No!" + +Curtis was silent. There was deep compassion in his eyes. + +She glanced around her wildly. Her eyes were on his eyes. + +She shuddered again, shuddered from head to foot. + +"If I thought that," she whispered, "if I thought that, I would----" + +"Hush!" he interposed gently. "Don't say it! Go and lie down! You will +see things differently by and bye." + +She knew that he was right, and worn out, broken as she was, she moved +to obey him. But before she reached the door her little strength was +gone. She felt herself sinking swiftly into a silence that she hoped and +even prayed was death. She did not know when Curtis lifted her. + + + +XVII + + +During many days Sybil lay in her darkened room, facing, in weariness of +body and bitterness of soul, the problem of life. She was not actually +ill, but there were times when she longed intensely, passionately, for +death. She was weak, physically and mentally, after the long strain. +Courage and endurance had alike given way at last. She had no strength +with which to face what lay before her. + +So far as outward circumstances went, she was in good hands. Curtis +watched over her with a care that never flagged, and the innkeeper's +wife from Wallarroo, large and slow and patient, was her constant +attendant. But neither of them could touch or in any way soothe the +perpetual pain that throbbed night and day in the girl's heart, giving +her no rest. + +She left her bed at length after many days, but it was only to wander +aimlessly about the house, lacking the energy to employ herself. Her +nerves were quieter, but she still started at any sudden sound, and +would sit as one listening yet dreading to hear. Her husband's name +never passed her lips, and Curtis never made the vaguest reference to +him. He knew that sooner or later a change would come, that the long +suffering that lined her face must draw at last to a climax; but he +would do nothing to hasten it. He believed that Nature would eventually +find her own remedy. + +But Nature is ever slow, and sometimes the wheel of life moves too +quickly for her methods to take effect. + +Sybil was sitting one day by an open window when Beelzebub dashed +suddenly into view. He was on horseback, riding barebacked, and was +evidently in a ferment of excitement. He bawled some incoherent words as +he passed the window, words which Sybil could not distinguish, but which +nevertheless sent a sharp sense of foreboding through her heart. Had +he--or had he not--yelled something to her about "Boss"? She could not +possibly have said, but the suspicion was sufficiently strong to rouse +her to lean out of the window and try to catch something of what the boy +was saying. + +He had reached the yard, and had flung himself off the sweating animal. +As she peered forth she caught sight of Curtis coming out of the stable. +Beelzebub saw him too, and broke out afresh with his wild cry. This +time, straining her ears to listen, she caught the words, all jumbled +together though they were. + +"Boss got smallpox!" + +She saw Curtis stop dead, and she wondered if his heart, like hers, had +ceased to beat. The next instant he moved forward, and for the first +time she saw him deliberately punch the gesticulating negro's woolly +head. Beelzebub cried out like a whipped dog and slunk back. Then, very +calmly, Curtis took him by the scruff of his neck, and began to question +him. + +Sybil stood, gripping the curtain, and watched it all as one watches a +scene on the stage. Somehow, though she knew herself to be vitally +concerned, she felt no agitation. It was as if the blood had ceased to +run in her veins. + +At length she saw Curtis release the palpitating Beelzebub, and turn +towards the house. Quite calmly she also turned. + +They met in the passage. + +"You needn't trouble to keep it from me," she said. "I know." + +He gave her a keen look. + +"I am going to him at once," was all he said. + +She stood quite still, facing him; and suddenly she was conscious of a +great glow pulsing through her, as though some arrested force had been +set free. She knew that her heart was beating again, strongly, steadily, +fearlessly. + +"I shall come with you," she said. + +She saw his face change. + +"I am sorry," he said, "but that is out of the question. You must know +it." + +She answered him instantly, unhesitatingly, with some of the old, quick +spirit that had won Brett Mercer's heart. + +"There you are wrong. I know it to be the only thing possible for me to +do." + +Curtis looked at her for a second as if he scarcely knew her, and then +abruptly abandoned the argument. + +"I will not be responsible," he said, turning aside. + +And she answered him unfalteringly: + +"I will take the responsibility." + +XVIII + + +Slowly Brett Mercer raised himself and tried to peer through his swollen +eyelids at the door. + +"Don't bring any woman here!" he mumbled. + +The effort to see was fruitless. He sank back, blind and tortured, upon +the pillow. He had been taken ill at one of his own outlying farms, and +here he had lain for days--a giant bereft of his strength, waiting for +death. + +His only attendant was a farm-hand who had had the disease, but knew +nothing of its treatment, who was, moreover, afraid to go near him. + +Curtis took in the whole situation at a glance as he bent over him. + +"Why didn't you send for me?" he said. + +"That you?" gasped Mercer. "Man, I'm in hell! Can't you give me +something to put me out of my misery?" + +Curtis was already at work over him. + +"No," he said briefly. "I'm going to pull you through. You're wanted." + +"You lie!" gasped back Mercer, and said no more. + +Some hours after, starting suddenly from fevered sleep, he asked an +abrupt question: + +"Does my wife know?" + +"Yes, she knows," Curtis answered. + +He flung his arms wide with a bitter gesture. "She'll soon be free," he +said. + +"Not if I know it," said Curtis, in his quiet, unemotional style. + +"You can't make me live against my will," muttered Mercer. + +"Don't talk like a fool!" responded Curtis. + +Late that night a hand that was not Curtis's smoothed the sick man's +pillow, and presently gave him nourishment. He noticed the difference +instantly, though he could not open his eyes; but he said nothing at the +time, and she fancied he did not know her. + +But presently, when she thought him sleeping, he spoke. + +"When did you come?" + +Even then she was not sure that he was in his right mind. His face was +so swollen and disfigured that it told her nothing. She answered him +very softly: + +"I came with Mr. Curtis." + +"Why?" That one word told her that he was in full possession of his +senses. He moved his head to and fro on the pillow as one vainly seeking +rest. "Did you want to see me in hell?" he questioned harshly. + +She leaned towards him. She was sitting by his bed. + +"No," she said, speaking under her breath. "I came because--because it +was the only way out--for us both." + +"What?" he said, and the old impatient frown drew his forehead. "You +came to see me die, then?" + +"I came," she answered, "to try and make you live." + +He drew a breath that was a groan. + +"You won't succeed," he said. + +"Why not?" she asked. + +Again feverishly he moved his head, and she smoothed his pillow afresh +with hands that trembled. + +"Don't touch me!" he said sharply. "What was Curtis dreaming of to bring +you here?" + +"Mr. Curtis couldn't help it," she answered, with more assurance. "I +came." And then after a moment, "Are you--sorry--I came?" + +"Yes," he muttered. + +"Oh, why?" she said. + +"I would sooner die--without you looking on," he said, forcing out his +words through set teeth. + +"Oh, why?" she said again. "Don't you believe--can't you believe--that I +want you to live?" + +"No," he groaned. + +"Not if I swear it?" she asked, her voice sunk very low. + +"No!" He flung the word with something of his ancient ferocity. She was +torturing him past endurance. He even madly hoped that he could scare +her away. + +But Sybil made no move to go. She sat quite still for a few seconds. +Then slowly she went down upon her knees beside his pillow. + +"Brett," she said, and he felt her breath quick and tremulous upon his +face as she spoke, "you may refuse to believe what I say. But--I can +convince you without words." + +And before he knew her meaning, she had pressed her quivering lips to +his. + +He recoiled, with an anguished sound that was half of protest and half +of unutterable pain. + +"Do you want to die too?" he said. "Or don't you know the risk?" + +"Yes, I know it," she answered. "I know it," and in her voice was such a +thrill of passion as he had never heard or thought to hear from her. +"But I know this, too, and I mean that you shall know it. My life is +nothing to me--do you understand?--nothing, unless you share it. +Now--will you believe me?" + +Yes, he believed her then. He had no choice. The knowledge was as a +sword cutting its way straight to his heart. He tried to answer her, +tried desperately hard, because he knew that she was waiting for him to +speak, that his silence would hurt her who from that day forward he +would never hurt again. + +But no words would come. He could not force his utterance. The power of +speech was gone from him. He turned his face away from her in choking +tears. + +And Sybil knew that the victory was hers. Those tears were more to her +than words. She knew that he would live--if he could--for her sake. + +XIX + + +It was more than six weeks later that Brett Mercer and his wife turned +in at the Home Farm, as they had turned in on that memorable night that +he had brought his bride from Wallarroo. + +Now, as then, Curtis was ready for them in the open doorway, and +Beelzebub advanced grinning to take the horses. But there the +resemblance ceased. The woman who entered with her husband leaning on +her shoulder was no nervous, shrinking stranger, but a wife entering her +home with gladness, bearing her burden with rejoicing. The woman from +Wallarroo looked at her with a doubtful sort of sympathy. She also +looked at the gaunt, bowed man who accompanied her, and questioned with +herself if this were indeed Brett Mercer. + +Brett Mercer it undoubtedly was, nor could she have said, save for his +slow, stooping gait, wherein lay the change that so amazed her. + +Perhaps it was more apparent in Sybil than in the man himself as she +raised her face on entering, and murmured: + +"So good to get home again, isn't it, dear?" + +He did not speak in answer. He scarcely spoke at all that night. But his +silence satisfied her. + +It was not till the following morning that he stretched out a great, +bony hand to her as she waited on him, and drew her down to his side. + +"There has been enough of this," he said, with a touch of his old +imperiousness. "You have worked too hard already, harder than I ever +meant you to work. You are to take a rest, and get strong." + +She uttered her gay little laugh. + +"My dearest Brett, I am strong." + +He lay staring at her in his most direct, disconcerting fashion. She +endured his look for a moment, and then averted her eyes. She would have +risen, but he prevented her. + +"Sybil!" he said abruptly. + +"Yes?" she answered, with her head bent. + +"Are you afraid of me?" he said. + +She shook her head instantly. + +"Don't be absurd!" + +"Then look at me!" he said. + +She raised her eyes slowly, not very willingly. But, having raised them, +she kept them so, for there was that in his look which no longer made +her shy. + +He made a slight gesture towards her that was rather of invitation than +insistence. + +"Don't you think I'm nearly well enough to be let into the secret?" he +said. + +His action, his tone, above all his look, broke down the last of the +barrier between them. She went into his arms with a shaky little laugh, +and hid her face against him. + +"I would have told you long ago," she whispered, "only somehow--I +couldn't. Besides, I was so sure that you knew." + +"Oh, yes, I knew," said Mercer. "Curtis saw to that; literally flayed me +with it till I took his advice and cleared out. You know, I've often +wondered since if it was that that made you want me, after all." + +She shook her head, still with her face against his breast. + +"No, dear, it wasn't. It--it made things worse at first. It was only +when I heard you were ill that--that I found--quite suddenly--that I +couldn't possibly go on without you. It was as if--as if something bound +round my heart had suddenly given way, and I could breathe again. When I +saw you I knew how terribly I wanted you." + +"And that was how you came to kiss me with that loathsome disease upon +me?" he whispered. "That was what made you follow me down to hell to +bring me back?" + +She turned her face upwards. Her eyes were shining. + +"My dear," she said, and in her voice was a thrill like the first sweet +notes of a bird in the dawning, "you don't need to ask me why did these +things. For you know--you know. It was simply and only because I loved +you." + +"Heaven knows why," he said, as he bent to kiss her. + +"Heavens knows," she answered, and softly laughed as she surrendered her +lips to his. + + + + +The Secret Service Man + + +I + +A TIGHT PLACE + + +"Shoulder to shoulder, boys! Give it 'em straight! There's no going back +this journey." And the speaker slapped his thigh and laughed. + +He was penned in a hot corner with a handful of grinning little +Goorkhas, as ready and exultant as himself. He had no earthly business +in that particular spot. But he had won his way there in a hand-to-hand +combat, which had rendered that bit of ground the most desirable +abiding-place on the face of the earth. And being there he meant to +stay. + +He was established with the inimitable effrontery of British insolence. +He had pushed on through the dark, fired by the enthusiasm which is born +of hard resistence. It had been no slight matter, but neither he nor his +men were to be easily dismayed. Moreover, their patience had been +severely tried for many tedious hours, and the removal of the curb had +gone to their heads like wine. + +Young Derrick Rose, war correspondent, was hot of head and ready of +hand. He had a knack also of getting into tight places and extricating +himself therefrom with amazing agility; which knack served to procure +for him the admiration of his friends and the respect of his enemies. It +was his first Frontier campaign, but it was not apparently destined to +be his last, for he bore a charmed life. And he went his way with a +cheery recklessness that seemed its own security. + +On the present occasion he had planted himself, with a serene assumption +of authority, at the head of a handful of Goorkhas who had been pressed +forward too far by an over-zealous officer in the darkness, and had lost +their leader in consequence. + +Derrick had stumbled on the group and had forthwith taken upon himself +to direct them to a position which, with a good deal of astuteness, he +had marked out in his own mind earlier in the day as a desirable +acquisition. + +There had been a hand-to-hand scuffle in the darkness, and then the +tribesmen had fallen back, believing themselves overwhelmed by superior +numbers. + +Derrick and his Goorkhas had promptly taken possession of the rocky +eminence which was the object of their desire, and now prepared, with +commendable determination, to maintain themselves at the post thus +captured; an impossible feat in consideration of the paucity of their +numbers, which fact a wily enemy had already begun to suspect. + +That the main force could by any means fail them was a possibility over +which for long neither Derrick nor his followers wasted a thought. +Nevertheless half-an-hour of mad turmoil passed, and no help came. + +Derrick charitably set down its non-appearance to ignorance of his state +and whereabouts, and he began at length to wonder within himself how the +place was to be defended throughout the night. Retreat he would not +think of, for he was game to the finger-tips. But even he could not fail +to see that, when the moon rose, he and his followers would be in a very +tight fix. + +"Confound their caution! What are they thinking of?" he muttered +savagely. "If they only came straight ahead they would be bound to find +us." + +And then a yelling crowd of dim figures breasted the rocks and dashed +forward with the force of a hurricane upon the little body of Goorkhas. +In a second Derrick was fighting in the dark with mad enthusiasm for +bare foothold, and shouting at the top of his voice exhortations to his +men to keep together. + +It was a desperate struggle, but once more the little party of invaders +held their ground. And Derrick, yelling encouragement to his friends and +defiance to his foes, became vaguely conscious of a new element in the +strife. + +Someone, not a Goorkha, was standing beside him, fighting as he fought, +but in grim silence. + +Derrick wondered considerably, but was too busy to ask questions. Only +when he missed his footing, and a strong hand shot out and dragged him +up, his wonder turned to admiration. Here was evidently a mighty +fighting-man! + +The tribesmen drew off at length baffled, to wait for the moon to rise. +They were pretty sure of their prey despite the determined resistance +they had encountered. They did not know of the new force that had come +to strengthen that forsaken little knot of men. Had they known, their +estimate of the task before them would have undergone a very material +amendment. + +"Hullo!" said Derrick, rubbing his sleeve across his forehead. "Where on +earth did you spring from?" + +A steady voice answered him out of the gloom. "I came up from the +valley. The troops are halted at the entrance of the ravine. There will +be no further advance to-night." + +Derrick swore a sudden, fierce oath. + +"No further advance! Do you mean that? Then Carlyon doesn't know we are +here." + +"Oh, yes, he knows," answered the man indifferently. "But he says very +reasonably that he didn't order you to come up here, and he can't +sacrifice twice the number of men here to get you down again. +Unfortunate for you, of course; but we all have to swallow bad luck at +one time or another. Make the best of it!" + +Derrick swore again with less violence and greater resolution. + +"And who, in wonder, may you be?" he broke off to enquire. "I'm a war +correspondent myself." + +There was a vein of humour in the quiet reply. + +"Oh, I'm a non-combatant, too. It's always the non-combatants that do +the work. Have you got a revolver? Good! Any cartridges? That's right. +Now, look here, it's out of the question to remain in this place till +moonrise." + +"I won't go back," said Derrick doggedly. "I'll see Carlyon hang first." + +"Quite right. I wasn't going to propose that. It's impossible, in the +first place. Perhaps it is only fair to Colonel Carlyon to mention that +he had no notion that there is anything so important as a newspaper man +at the head of this expedition. It's a detail, of course. Still, if you +get through, it is just as well that you should know the rights of the +case." + +Derrick broke into an involuntary laugh. + +"Did Carlyon get you to come and tell me so?" He turned and peered +through the darkness at the man beside him. "You never got up here +alone?" he said incredulously. + +"Oh, yes. It wasn't difficult. I was guided by the noise you made. How +many men have you?" + +"Ten or twelve; not more--all Goorkhas." + +"Good! We must quit this place at once. It will be a death-trap when the +moon rises. There are some boulders higher up, away to the right. We +can occupy them till morning and fight back to back if they try to rush +us. There ought to be plenty of shelter among those rocks." + +The man's cool speech caught Derrick's fancy. He spoke as quietly as if +he were sitting at an English dinner-table. + +"You had better take command," said Derrick. + +"No, thanks; you are going to pull this through. Are you ready to move? +Pass the word to the men! And then all together! It is now or never!" + +A few seconds later they were stumbling in an indistinguishable mass +towards the haven indicated by the latest comer. It was a difficult +scramble, not the least difficult part of it being the task of keeping +in touch with each other. But Derrick's spirits returned at a bound with +this further adventure, and he began to rejoice somewhat prematurely in +his triumph over Carlyon's caution. + +The man who had come to his assistance kept at his elbow throughout the +climb. Not a word was spoken. The men moved like cats through the +dimness. Below them was a confused din of rifle-firing. Their advance +had evidently not been detected. + +"Silly owls! Wasting their ammunition!" murmured Derrick to the man +beside him. He received no response. A warning hand closed with a grip +on his elbow. And Derrick subsided. + +When the moon rose, magnificent and glowing from behind the mountains, +Derrick and his men looked down from a high perch on the hillside, and +watched a furious party of tribesmen charge and occupy their abandoned +position. + +"Now, this is good!" said Derrick, and he was in the act of firing his +revolver into the thick of the crowd below him when again the sinewy +hand of his unknown friend checked him. + +"Hold your fire, man!" the man said, in his quiet, unmoved voice. "You +will want it presently." + +But the stranger's hold tightened. He was standing in the shadow +slightly behind Derrick. + +"Wait!" he said. "They will find you soon enough. You are not in a +position to take the offensive." + +Derrick swung round with a restless word. And then he pulled up short. +He was facing a tribesman, gaunt and tall, with odd, light eyes that +glittered strangely in the moonlight. Derrick stared at the apparition, +dumbfounded. After a pause the man took his hand from the +correspondent's arm. + +"Don't give the show away for want of a little caution!" he said. "There +are your men to think of, remember. This is no picnic." + +Derrick was still staring hard at the strange figure before him. + +"I say," he said at length, "what in the name of wonder are you?" + +He heard a faint, contemptuous laugh. The unknown drew the end of his +_chuddah_ farther across his face. + +"You are marvellously guileless for a war correspondent," he said. And +he turned on his heel and stalked away into the shadows. + +Derrick stood gazing after him in stupefaction. + +"A Secret Service agent, is he?" he murmured at length to himself. "By +Jove! What a marvellous fake! On Carlyon's business, I suppose. Confound +Carlyon! I'll tell him what I think of him if I come through this all +right." + +Carlyon, in times of peace, was one of Derrick Rose's most intimate +friends. That Carlyon, upon whom he relied as upon a tower of strength +should fail him at such a pinch as this, and for motives of caution +alone, was a circumstance so preposterous and unheard-of that Derrick's +credulity was hardly equal to the strain. + +He began to wonder if this stranger who had guided him into safety, from +what he now realized to be a positive death-trap, had given him a wholly +unexaggerated account of Carlyon's attitude. + +He waited awhile, thinking the matter over with rising indignation; and +at length, as the noise below him subsided, he moved from his shelter to +find his informant. It was a rash thing to do, but prudence was not his +strong point. Moreover, the Secret Service man had aroused his +curiosity. He wanted to see more of this fellow. So, with an +indifference to danger, foolhardy, though too genuine to be +contemptible, he strolled across an unprotected space of moonlight to +join him. + +Two seconds later he was lying on his face, struggling with the futile, +convulsive effort of a stricken man to recover his footing. And even +while he struggled, he lost consciousness. + +He awoke at length as one awakes from a troublous dream, and looked +about him with a dazed consciousness of great tumult. + +The space in which he lay was no longer wide and empty. The white world +was peopled with demons that leapt and surged around his prostrate body. +And someone, a man in white, with naked, uplifted arms, stood above him +and quelled the tumult. + +Derrick saw it all, heard the mad yells lessen and die down, watched +with a dumb amazement the melting away of the fierce crowd. + +And then the man who stood over him turned suddenly and, kneeling, +lifted him from his prostrate position. It was a man in native dress +whose eyes held for Derrick an odd, half-familiar fascination. + +Where had he met those eyes before? Ah, he remembered. It was the Secret +Service man. And that was strange, too. For Carlyon always scoffed at +Secret Service men. Still, this was a small matter which, no doubt, +would right itself. Everything looked a little peculiar and distorted on +this night of wonders. Carlyon himself had sadly degenerated in his +opinion since the morning. Bother Carlyon! + +Suddenly a great sigh burst from Derrick, and the moonlight broke up +into tiny, dazzling fragments. The darkness was full of them, alive +with them. + +"Fire-flies!" gasped Derrick, and began to cough, at first slowly, with +pauses for breath, then quickly, spasmodically, convulsively. For breath +had finally failed him. + +The arm behind him raised him with the steady strength of iron muscles, +and a hand pressed his chest. But the coughing did not cease. It was the +anguished strife of wounded Nature to assert her damaged authority; the +wild, last effort to clutch and hold fast the elusive torch that, +flickering in the midst of darkness, is called life--the one priceless +possession of our little mortal treasury. + +And while he coughed and fought with the demon of suffocation Derrick +was strongly aware of the eyes that watched him, burning like two +brilliant blue points out of the darkness. Wonderful eyes! Steady, +strong, unflinching. The eyes of a friend--a true friend--not such an +one as Carlyon--Carlyon who had failed him. + +A thick, unexplored darkness fell upon Derrick as he thought of +Carlyon's desertion; and he forgot at length to wonder at the +strangeness of the night. + + + + +II + +A BROKEN FRIENDSHIP + + +By and bye, when the light dawned in his eyes, Derrick began to dream of +many strange things. + +But he came back at last out of the shadows, weak and faint and weary. +And then he found that he was in hospital and had been there for weeks. + +The discovery was rather staggering. Somehow he had never quite rid +himself of the impression that he was still lying on the great, rocky +boulder where the Secret Service man had so magically scattered his +enemies. But as life and full consciousness returned to him he became +aware that this had for weeks been no more than a fevered illusion. + +When he was at length fairly out of danger he was dispatched southwards +on the first stage of the homeward journey. + +He sailed for Home with his resentment against Carlyon yet strong upon +him. He had no parents. In his reckless young days, during the last +three years of his minority, Carlyon had been this boy's guardian. But +Derrick had been his own master for nearly four years, and the conscious +joy of independence was yet dear to his heart. He had no settled home of +his own, but he had plenty of money. And that, after all, was the +essential thing. + +He had been brought up with the daughter of a clergyman in whose home he +had lived all his early life. The two had grown up together in close +companionship. They had been comrades all their lives. + +Only of recent years, at the end of an uneventful college career, had +Derrick awakened to the astounding fact that Averil Eversley, his little +playmate, was a maiden sweet and comely whom he wanted badly for his +very own. She was three years younger than himself, but she had always +taken the lead in all their exploits. + +Derrick discovered for the first time that this was not a proper state +of affairs. He had tried, not over tactfully, to show her that man was, +after all, the superior animal. Averil had first stared at his efforts, +and then laughed with uncontrollable mirth. + +Then Derrick had set to work with splendid energy, and achieved in two +years a certain amount of literary success. Averil had praised him for +this; which reward of merit had so turned his head that he had at once +clumsily proposed to her. Averil had not laughed at that. She had +rejected him instantly, with so severe a scolding that Derrick had lost +his temper, and gone away to sulk. Later, he had turned his attention +again to journalistic work, hoping thereby to recover favour. + +Then, and this had brought him to the previous winter, he had returned +to find Averil going in for a little innocent hero-worship on her own +account. And Carlyon, his own particular friend and adviser, had +happened to be the hero. + +Whether Carlyon were aware of the state of affairs or not, Derrick in +his wrath had not stopped to enquire. He had simply and blindly gone +direct to the attack, with the result that Averil had been deeply and +irreconcilably offended, and Carlyon had so nearly kicked him for making +such a fool of himself that Derrick had retired in disgust from the +fray, had clamoured for and, with infinite difficulty, obtained a post +as war-correspondent in the ensuing Frontier campaign, and had departed +on his adventurous way, sulking hard. + +Later, Carlyon had sought him out, had shaken hands with him, called him +an impetuous young ass, and had enjoined him to stick to himself during +the expedition in which Derrick was thus recklessly determined to take +part. They had, in fact, been entirely reconciled, avoiding by mutual +consent the delicate ground of their dispute. Carlyon was a man of +considerable reputation on the Frontier, and Derrick Rose was secretly +proud of the friendship that existed between them. + +Now, however, the friendship had split to its very foundation. Carlyon +had failed him when life itself had been in the balance. + +Impetuous as he was, Derrick was not one to forgive quickly so gross an +injury as this. He did not think, moreover, that Averil herself would +continue to offer homage before so obvious a piece of clay as her idol +had proved himself to be. Derrick was beginning to apply to Carlyon the +most odious of all epithets--that of coward. + +He had set his heart upon a reconciliation with Averil, and earnestly he +hoped she would see the matter with his eyes. + + + + +III + +DERRICK'S PARADISE + + +"So it was the Secret Service man who saved your life," said Averil, +with flushed cheeks. "Really, Dick, how splendid of him!" + +"Finest chap I ever saw!" declared Derrick. "He looked about eight feet +high in native dress. I shall have to find that man some day, and tell +him what I think of him." + +"Yes, indeed!" agreed Averil. "I expect, you know, it was really Colonel +Carlyon who sent him." + +"Being too great a--strategist to advance himself," said Derrick. + +"But he didn't know you were at the head of the Goorkhas," Averil +reminded him. + +"Perhaps not," said Derrick. "But he knew I was there. And, putting me +out of the question altogether, what can you think of an officer who +will coolly leave a party of his men to be slaughtered like sheep in a +butcher's yard because the poor beggars happen to have got into a tight +place?" + +Derrick spoke with strong indignation, and Averil was silent awhile. +Presently, however, she spoke again, slowly. + +"I can't help thinking, Dick," she said, "that there is an explanation +somewhere. We ought not--it would not be fair--to say Colonel Carlyon +acted unworthily before he has had a chance of justifying himself." + +There was justice in this remark. Derrick, who was lying at the girl's +feet on the hearthrug in the Rectory drawing-room, reached up a bony +hand and took possession of one of hers. For Averil had received him +with a warmer welcome than he had deemed possible in his most sanguine +moments, and he was very happy in consequence. + +"All right," he said equably. "We'll shunt Carlyon for a bit, and talk +about ourselves. Shall we?" + +Averil drew the bony hand on to her lap and looked at it critically. + +"Poor old boy!" she said. "It is thin." + +Derrick drew himself up to a sitting position. There was an air of +mastery about him as he raised a determined face to hers. + +"Averil," he said suddenly, "you aren't going to send me to the +right-about again, are you?" + +"Oh, don't let us squabble on your first night!'" said Averil hastily. + +"Squabble!" the boy exclaimed, springing to his feet vigorously. "Do you +call--that--squabbling?" + +Averil stood up, too, tall and straight, and slightly defiant. + +"I don't want you to go away, Dick," she said, "if you can stay and +behave nicely. I thought it was horribly selfish of you to go off as you +did last winter. I think so still. If you had got killed, I should have +been very--very--" + +"What?" demanded Derrick impatiently. "Sorry? Angry--what?" + +"Angry," said Averil, with great decision. "I should never have forgiven +you. I am not sure that I shall, as it is." + +Derrick uttered a sudden passionate laugh. Then abruptly his mood +changed. He held out his hands to her. + +"Averil!" he said. "Averil! Can't you see how I want you--how I love +you? Why do you treat me like this? I've thought about you, dreamt about +you, day after day, night after night, ever since I went away. You +thought it beastly selfish of me to go. But it hasn't been such fun, +after all. All the weeks I was in hospital I felt sick for the sight of +you. It was worse than starvation. Can't you see what it is to me? Can't +you see that I--I worship you?" + +"My dear Dick!" Averil put her hands into his, but her gesture was one +of restraint. "You mustn't talk so wildly," she said. "And, dear boy, do +try not to be quite so impulsive--so headstrong. You know, you--you--" + +She broke off. Derrick, with a set jaw and burning eyes, was drawing her +to him, strongly, irresistibly. + +"Derrick!" she said, with a flash of anger. + +"I can't help it!" Derrick said passionately. "I've been counting on +this, living for this. Averil I--I--you can call me mad if you like, +but if you send me away again--I believe I shall shoot myself." + +"What nonsense!" exclaimed Averil, half-angry, half-scornful. + +He dropped her hands and stood quite still for the space of a few +seconds, his face white and twitching. And then, to her utter amazement, +he sank heavily into a chair and covered his face with his hands. + +"Dick!" she ejaculated. + +Silence followed the word, a breathless silence. Derrick sat perfectly +motionless, his fingers gripping his hair. At last Averil moved up to +him, a little frightened by his stillness, and very intensely +compassionate. She bent and touched his shoulder. + +"Dick!" she said. "Dick! Don't!" + +He stirred under her hand, but did not raise his head. "Get away, +Averil!" he muttered. "You don't understand." + +And quite suddenly Averil was transported back to the far, receding +schooldays, when Derrick had got into trouble for smoking his first +cigar. The memory unconsciously influenced her speech. + +"But, Dick," she said persuasively, "don't you think you are the least +bit in the world unreasonable? It's true I don't quite understand. We've +been such splendid chums all our lives, I really don't see why we should +begin to be anything different now. Besides, Dick"--there was appeal in +her voice--"I don't truly want to get married. It seems such a silly +thing to go and do when one had such really jolly times without. It does +spoil things so." + +Derrick sat up. He was still absurdly boyish, despite his +four-and-twenty years. + +"Look here, Averil!" he said doggedly. "If you won't have me, I'm not +going to hang about after you like a tame monkey. It's going to be one +thing or the other. I've made a big enough fool of myself over you. We +can't be chums, as you call it"--a passionate ring crept into his +voice--"when all the while you're holding me off at arm's length as if +I'd got the plague. So"--rising abruptly and facing her--"which is it to +be?" + +Averil looked at him. His face was still white, but his lips were +sternly compressed. He was weak no longer. She was conscious of a sudden +thrill of admiration banishing her pity. After all, was he indeed only a +boy? He scarcely seemed so at that moment. He was, moreover, straight +and handsome despite his gaunt appearance. + +"Answer me, Averil!" he said with determination. + +But Averil had no answer ready. She stood silent. + +Derrick laid his hand on her arm. It was a light touch, but somehow it +conveyed to her the fact that he was holding himself in with a tighter +rein than ever before. + +"Don't torture me!" he said, speaking quickly, nervously. "Tell me +either to stay or--go!" His voice dropped on the last word, and for a +second Averil saw the torture on his face. + +It was too much for her resolution. All her life she had been this boy's +chosen companion and confidante. She felt she could not turn from him +now in his distress, and deliberately break his heart. Yet for one +tumultuous second she battled with her impulse. Then--she yielded. +Somehow that look in Derrick's eyes compelled her. + +She put her hands on his shoulders. + +"Dick--stay!" she said. + +His arms closed round her in a second. "You mean--" he said, under his +breath. + +"Yes, Dick," she answered bravely, "I do mean. Dear boy, don't ever look +like that again! You have hurt me horribly." + +Derrick turned her face up to his own and kissed her repeatedly and +passionately. + +"You shall never regret it, my darling," he said. "You have turned my +world into a paradise. I will do the same for yours." + +"It doesn't take much to make me happy," Averil said, leaning her +forehead against his shoulder. "I hope you will be a kind master, Dick, +and let me have my own way sometimes." + +"Master?" scoffed Derrick, kissing her hair. "You know you can lead me +by the nose from world's end to world's end." + +"I wonder," said Averil, with a little sigh. "Do you know, Dick, I'm not +quite sure of that." + +"What!" said Derrick softly. "Not--quite--sure!" + +"Not when you look as you did thirty seconds ago," Averil explained. +"Never mind, dear old boy! I'm glad you can look like that, though, +mind, you must never, never do it again if you live to be a hundred." + +She looked up at him suddenly and clasped her hands behind his neck. +"You do love me, don't you, Dick?" she said. + +"My darling, I worship you!" Derrick answered very solemnly. + +And Averil drew his head down with a quivering smile and kissed him on +the lips. + + + + +IV + +CARLYON DEFENDS HIMSELF + + +"Ah, Derrick! I thought I could not be mistaken." + +Derrick turned swiftly at the touch of a hand on his shoulder, and +nearly tumbled into the roadway. He had been sauntering somewhat +aimlessly down the Strand till pulled up in this rather summary fashion. +He now found himself staring at a tall man who had come up behind him--a +man with a lined face and drooping eyelids, and a settled weariness +about his whole demeanour which, somehow, conveyed the impression that, +in his opinion, at least, there was nothing on earth worth striving for. + +Derrick recovered his balance and stood still before him. Speech, +however, quite unexpectedly failed him. The quiet greeting had scattered +his ideas momentarily. + +The hand that had touched his shoulder was deliberately transferred to +his elbow. + +"Come!" said his acquaintance, smiling a little. "We are blocking the +gangway. I am staying at the Grand. If you are at liberty you might dine +with me. By the way, how are you, old fellow?" + +He spoke very quietly and wholly without affectation. There was a touch +of tenderness in his last sentence that quite restored Derrick's +faculties. + +He shook his arm free from the other's hand with a vehemence of action +that was unmistakably hostile. + +"No, thanks, Colonel Carlyon!" he said, speaking fast and feverishly. +"If I were starving, I wouldn't accept hospitality from you!" + +"Don't be a fool!" said Carlyon. + +His tone was still quiet, but it was also stern. He pushed a determined +hand through Derrick's arm. "If you won't come my way," he said, "I +shall come yours." + +Derrick swore under his breath. But he yielded. "Very well," he said +aloud. "I'll come. But I swear I won't touch anything." + +"You needn't swear," said Carlyon; "it's unnecessary." + +And Derrick bit his lip nearly through, being exasperated. He did not, +however, resist the compelling hand a second time, realizing the +futility of such a proceeding. + +So in dead silence they reached the Grand and entered. Then Carlyon +spoke again. + +"Come up to my room first!" he said. + +Derrick went with him unprotesting. + +In his own room Carlyon turned round and took him by the shoulders. +"Now," he said, "are you ill or merely sulky? Just tell me which, and I +shall know how to treat you!" + +"It's no thanks to you I'm not dead!" exclaimed Derrick stormily. "I +didn't want to meet you, but, by Heaven, since I have, and since you +have forced an interview upon me, I'll go ahead and tell you what I +think of you." + +Carlyon turned away from him and sat down. "Do, by all means," he said, +"if it will get you into a healthier frame of mind!" + +But Derrick's flow of eloquence unexpectedly failed him at this +juncture, and he stood awkwardly silent. + +Carlyon turned round at last and looked at him. "Sit down, Dick," he +said patiently, "and stop being an ass! I'm a difficult man to quarrel +with, as you know. So sit down and state your grievance, and have done +with it!" + +"You know very well what's wrong!" Derrick burst out fiercely, +beginning to prowl to and fro. + +"Do I?" said Carlyon. He got up deliberately and intercepted Derrick. +"Just stop tramping," he said, with sudden sternness, "and listen to me! +You have your wound alone to thank for keeping you out of the worst mess +you ever got into. If you hadn't gone back in a hospital truck, you +would have gone back under escort. Do you understand that?" + +"Why?" flashed Derrick. + +"Why?" echoed Carlyon, striking him abruptly on the shoulder. "Tell me +your own opinion of a hot-headed, meddling young fool who not only got +into mischief himself at a most critical moment, but led half-a-score of +valuable men into what was practically a death-trap, for the sake of, I +suppose he would call it, an hour's sport. On my soul, Derrick," he +ended, with a species of quiet vigour that carried considerable weight +behind it, "if you weren't such a skeleton I'd give you a sound +thrashing for your sins. As it is, you will be wise to get off that high +horse of yours and take a back seat. I never have put up with this sort +of thing from you. And I never mean to." + +Derrick had no answer ready. He stood still, considering these things. + +Colonel Carlyon turned his back on him and cut the end of a cigar. "Do +you grasp my meaning?" he enquired at length, as Derrick remained +silent. + +Derrick moved to a chair and sat down. Somehow Carlyon had taken the +backbone out of his indignation. He spoke at last, but without anger. +"Even if it were as you say," he said, "I don't consider you treated me +decently." + +Carlyon suddenly laughed. "Even if by some odd chance I have actually +spoken the truth," he said, "I shall not, and do not, feel called upon +to justify my action for your benefit." + +"I think you owe me that," Derrick said quickly. + +"I disagree with you," Carlyon rejoined. "I owe you nothing whatever +except the aforementioned thrashing which must, unfortunately, under the +circumstances, remain a debt for the present." + +Derrick leant forward suddenly + +"Stop rotting, Carlyon!" he said, with impulsive earnestness. "I can't +help talking seriously. You didn't know, surely, what a tight fix we +were in? You couldn't have intended us to--to--die in the dark like +that?" + +"Intended!" said Carlyon sharply. "I never intended you to occupy that +position at all, remember." + +"Yes; but--since we were in that position, since--if you choose to put +it so--I exceeded all bounds and intentions and took those splendid +little Goorkhas into a death-trap; I may have been a headstrong, idiotic +fool to do it; but, granted all that, you did not deliberately and +knowingly leave us to be massacred? You couldn't have done actually +that." + +Carlyon laid his cigar-case on the table at Derrick's elbow, and lighted +his own cigar with great deliberation. + +"You may remember, Dick," he said quietly, after a pause, "that once +upon a time you wrote--and published--a book. It had its merits and it +had its faults. But a fool of a critic took it into his head to give you +a thorough slating. You were furious, weren't you? I remember giving you +a bit of sound advice over that book. Probably you have forgotten it. +But it chances to be one of the guiding principles of my life. It is +this: Never answer your critics! Go straight ahead!" + +He paused. + +"I remember," said Derrick. "Well?" + +"Well," said Carlyon gravely, "that is what I have done all my life, +what I mean to do now. You are in full possession of the facts of the +case. You have defined my position fairly accurately. I did know you +were in an impossible corner. I did know that you and the men with you +were in all probability doomed. And--I did not think good to send a +rescue. You do not understand the game of war. You merely went in for it +for the sake of sport, I for the sake of the stakes. There is a +difference. More than that I do not mean to say." + +He sat down opposite Derrick as he ended and began to smoke with an air +of indifference. But his eyes were on the boy's face. They had been +close friends for years. + +Derrick still sat forward. He was staring at the ground heavily, +silently Carlyon had given him a shock. Somehow he had not expected from +him this cool acknowledgment of an action from which he himself shrank +with unspeakable abhorrence. + +To leave a friend in the lurch was, in Derrick's eyes, an act so +infamous that he would have cut his own throat sooner than be guilty of +it. It did not occur to him that Carlyon might have urged extenuating +circumstances, but had rather scornfully abstained from doing so. + +He did not even consider the fact that, as commanding-officer, Carlyon's +responsibility for the lives in his charge was a burden not to be +ignored or lightly borne. He did not consider the risk to these same +valuable lives that a rescue in force would have involved. + +He saw only himself fighting for a forlorn hope, his grinning little +Goorkhas gallantly and intrepidly following wherever he would lead, and +he saw the awful darkness down which his feet had stumbled, a terrible +chasm that had yawned to engulf them all. + +He sat up at last and looked straight at Carlyon. He spoke slowly, with +an effort. + +"If it had been only myself," he said, "I--perhaps, I might have found +it easier. But there were the men, my men. You could not alter your +plans by one hair's-breadth to save their gallant lives. I can't get +over that. I never shall. You left us to die like rats in a hole. But +for a total stranger--a spy, a Secret Service man--we should have been +cut to pieces, every one of us. You did not, I suppose, send that man to +help us out?" + +Carlyon blew a cloud of smoke upwards. He frowned a little, but his look +was more one of boredom than annoyance. + +"What exactly are you talking about?" he said. "I don't employ spies. As +to Secret Service agents, I think you have heard my opinion of them +before." + +"Yes," said Derrick. He rose with an air of finality. His young face was +very stern. "He was probably attached to General Harford's division. He +found us in a fix, and he helped us out of it. He knew the land. We +didn't. He was the most splendid fighting-man I ever saw. He tried to +stick up for you, too--said you didn't know. That, of course, was a +mistake. You did know, and are not ashamed to own it." + +"Not in the least," said Carlyon. + +"The men couldn't have held out without him," Derrick continued. "After +I was hit, he stood by them. He only took himself off just before +morning came and you ventured to move to our assistance." + +"He had no possible right to do it," observed Carlyon thoughtfully +ignoring the bitter ring of sarcasm in the boy's tone. + +"Oh, none whatever," said Derrick. He spoke hastily, jerkily, as a man +not sure of himself. "No doubt his life was Government property, and he +had no right to risk it. Still he did it, and I am weak-minded enough to +be grateful. My own life may be worthless; at least, it was then. And I +would not have survived my Goorkhas. But he saved them, too. That, odd +as it may seem to you, made all the difference to me." + +"Is your life more valuable now than it was a few months ago?" enquired +Carlyon, in a casual tone. + +"Yes," said Derrick shorty. + +"Has Averil accepted you?" Carlyon asked him point-blank. + +"Yes," said Derrick again. + +There was a momentary pause. Then: "Permit me to offer my +felicitations!" said Carlyon, through a haze of tobacco-smoke. + +Derrick started as if stung. "I beg you won't do anything of the sort!" +he said with vehemence. "I don't want your good wishes. I would rather +be without them. I may be a hare-brained fool. I won't deny it. But as +for you--you are a blackguard--the worst sort of blackguard! I hope I +shall never speak to you again!" + +Carlyon, lying back in his chair, neither stirred nor spoke. He looked +up at Derrick from beneath steady eyelids. But he offered him nothing in +return for his insulting words. + +Derrick waited for seconds. Then patience and resolution alike failed +him. He swung round abruptly on his heel and walked out of the room. + +As for Colonel Carlyon, he did not rise from his chair till he had +conscientiously finished his cigar. He had stuck to his principles. He +had not answered his critic. Incidentally he had borne more from that +critic than any man had ever before dared to offer him, more than he had +told Derrick himself that he would bear. Yet Derrick had gone away from +the encounter with a whole skin in order that Colonel Carlyon might +stick to his principles. Carlyon's forbearance was a plant of peculiar +growth. + + + + +V + +A WOMAN'S FORGIVENESS + + +"Colonel Carlyon," said Averil, turning to face him fully, her eyes very +bright, "will you take the trouble to make me understand about Derrick? +I have been awaiting an opportunity to ask you ever since I heard about +it." + +Carlyon paused. They chanced to be staying simultaneously in the house +of a mutual friend. He had arrived only the previous evening, and till +that moment had scarcely spoken to the girl. + +Carlyon smothered an involuntary sigh. He could have wished that this +girl, with her straight eyes and honest speech, would have spared him +the explanation which she had made such speed to demand of him. + +"Make you understand, Miss Eversley!" he said, halting deliberately +before a bookcase. "What exactly is it that you do not understand?" + +"Everything," Averil said, with a comprehensive gesture. "I have always +believed that you thought more of Derrick than anything else in the +world." + +"Ah!" said Carlyon quietly. "That is probably the root of the +misunderstanding. Correct that, and the rest will be comparatively +easy." + +He took a book from the shelf before him and ran a quick eye through its +pages. After a brief pause he put the volume back and joined the girl on +the hearthrug. + +"Is my behaviour still an enigma?" he said, with a slight smile. + +She turned to him impulsively. "Of course," she said, colouring vividly, +"I am aware that to a celebrated man like you the opinion of a nobody +like myself cannot matter one straw. But--" + +"Pardon me!" Carlyon gravely. "Even celebrated men are human, you know. +They have their feelings like the rest of mankind. I shall be sorry to +forfeit your good opinion. But I have no means of retaining it. Derrick +cannot see my point of view. You, of course, will share his +difficulties." + +"That does not follow, does it?" said Averil. + +"I should say so," said Carlyon. "You see, Miss Eversley, you have +already told me that you do not understand my action. Non-comprehension +in such a matter is synonymous with disapproval. You are, no doubt, in +full possession of the facts. More than the bare facts I cannot give +you. I will not attempt to justify myself where I admit no guilt." + +"No," Averil said. "Pray don't think I am asking you to do anything of +the sort! Only, Colonel Carlyon," she laid a pleading hand on his arm +and lifted a very anxious face, "you remember we used to be friends, if +you will allow the presumption of such a term. Won't you even try to +show me your point of view in this matter? I think I could understand. I +want to understand." + +Carlyon leant his elbow on the mantelpiece and looked very gravely into +the girl's troubled eyes. + +"You are very generous, Averil," he said. + +"Generous," she echoed, with a touch of impatience. "No; I only want to +be just--for my own sake. I hate to take a narrow, cramped view of +things. I hate that Dick should. A few words from you would set us both +right, and we could all be friends again." + +"Ah!" said Carlyon. "But suppose--I have nothing to say?" + +"You must have something!" she declared vehemently. "You never do +anything without a reason." + +"Generous again!" said Carlyon. + +"Oh, don't laugh at me!" cried Averil, stung by the quiet unconcern of +his words. + +He straightened himself instantly, his face suddenly stern. "At least +you wrong me there!" he said, and before the curt reproof of his tone +she felt humbled and ashamed. "Listen to me a moment! You want my point +of view clearly stated. You shall have it. + +"I am employed by a blundering Government to do a certain task which +bigger men shirk. Carlyon of the Frontier, they say, will stick at no +dirty job. I undertake the task. I lay my plans--subtle plans which you, +with your blind British generosity, would neither understand nor +approve. I proceed to carry them out. I am within sight of the end and +success, when an idiotic fool of a boy, who is not so much as a +combatant himself, blunders into the business and throws the whole +scheme out of gear. He assumes the leadership of a dozen stranded +Goorkhas, and instead of bringing them back he drags them forward into +an impossible position, and then expects a rescue. + +"I meanwhile have my own work to do. I am responsible to the Government +for the lives of my men. I cannot expend them on other than Government +work. + +"On one side of the scale is this same Government and the plans made in +its interest; on the other the life of a boy, strategically speaking, +worth nothing, and the lives of half-a-score of fighting men, already +accounted a loss. It may astonish you to know that the Government turned +the scale. Those who had incurred the penalty of rashness were left to +pay it. That, Miss Eversley, is all I have to say. You will be good +enough to remember that I have said it at your request and not in my own +defence." + +He ceased to speak as abruptly as he had begun. He was standing at his +full height, and, tall though she was, Averil felt unaccountably small +and insignificant before him. Curtly, almost rudely, as he had spoken, +she admired him immensely for the stern code of honour he professed. + +She did not utter a word for several seconds. He had impressed her very +strongly. She stayed to weigh his words in the balance of her own +judgment. + +"It is a man's point of view," she said slowly at last, "not a woman's." + +"Even so," said Carlyon, dropping back suddenly to his former attitude. + +She looked at him very earnestly, her brows drawn together. + +"You have not told me about the Secret Service man," she said at length. +"You sent him, did you not, on the forlorn chance of saving Dick?" + +Carlyon shook his head in a grim disclaimer. + +"Derrick's information was the first I heard of the individual," he +said. "I was unaware of the existence of a Secret Service agent within a +radius of fifty miles. I believe General Harford encourages the breed. I +do the precise opposite. I have no faith in professional spies in that +part of the world. Russian territory is too near, and Russian gold too +tempting." + +Averil's face fell. "Colonel Carlyon," she said, in a very small voice, +"forgive me, but--but--you cannot be so hard as you sound. You are fond +of Dick, surely?" + +"Yes," he said deliberately. "I am fond of you both, if I may be +permitted to say so." + +Averil coloured a little. "Thank you," she said. "I shall try presently +to make him understand." + +"Understand what?" said Carlyon curiously. + +"Your feeling in the matter." + +"My what?" he said roughly. Then hastily, "I beg your pardon, Miss +Eversley. But are you sure you understand it yourself?" + +"I am doing my best," she said, in a low voice. + +"But you are sorely disappointed, nevertheless," he said, in a more +kindly tone. "You expected something different. Well, it can't be +helped. I should leave Dick's convictions alone, if I were you. At least +he has no illusions left with regard to Carlyon of the Frontier." + +There was an involuntary touch of sadness in the man's quiet speech. He +no longer looked at Averil, and his face in repose wore an expression of +unutterable weariness. + +Averil held out her hand with an abrupt, childlike impulse. + +"Colonel Carlyon," she said, speaking very rapidly, "you are right. I +don't understand. I think you hold too stern a view of your +responsibilities. I believe no woman could think otherwise. But at the +same time I do still believe you are a good man. I shall always believe +it." + +Carlyon glanced at her quickly. Her face was flushed, her eyes very +eager. He looked away again almost instantly, but he took her +outstretched hand. + +"Thank you, Averil," he said gravely. "I believe under the circumstances +few women would have said the same. Tell me! Did I hear a rumour that +you are going out to India yourself very shortly?" + +She nodded. "I have almost promised to go," she said. "I have a married +sister at Sharapura. I wrote to her of my engagement, and she wrote +back, begging me to go to her if I could. She and her husband have been +disappointed several times about coming home, and it is still uncertain +when they will manage it. She wants to see me before I marry and settle +down, she says." + +"And you want to go?" + +"Of course I do," said Averil, with enthusiasm. "It has always been a +standing promise that I should go some day." + +"And what does Derrick say to it?" + +"Oh, Dick! He was very cross at first. But I have propitiated him by +promising to marry him as soon as I get back, which will be probably +this time next year." + +Averil's face grew suddenly grave. + +"I hope you will both be very happy," said Carlyon, rather formally. + +"Thank you," said Averil, looking up at him. "It would make me much +happier if--you and Dick could be friends before then." + +"Would it?" said Carlyon thoughtfully. "I wonder why." + +"I should like my friends to be Dick's friends," she said, with slight +hesitation. + +Carlyon smiled a little. "Forgive me, Miss Eversley, for being +monotonous!" he said.... "But, once more--how generous!" + +Averil turned sharply away, inexplicably hurt by what she considered the +note of mockery in his voice, and went out, leaving him alone before the +fire. Emphatically this man was entirely beyond her understanding. + +But, nevertheless, when they met again, she had forgiven him. + + + + +VI + +FIEND OR KING? + + +"Hullo, doctor! What news?" sang out a curly-haired subaltern on the +steps of the club, a newly-erected, wooden bungalow of which the little +Frontier station was immensely proud. "You're looking infernally +serious. What's the matter?" + +Dr. Seddon rolled stoutly off his steaming pony and went to join his +questioner. + +"What do you think you're doing, Toby?" he said, with a glance at an +enormous pair of scissors in the boy's hand. + +"I'm making lamp-shades," Toby responded, leading the way within. +"What's your drink? Nothing? What a horribly dry beast you are! Yes, +lamp-shades--for the ball, you know. Got to be ready by to-morrow night. +We're doing them with crinkly paper. Miss Eversley promised to come and +help me. But she hasn't turned up." + +"What?" exclaimed Seddon. "Not come back yet?" + +Toby dropped his scissors with a clatter, and dived for them under the +reading-room table. + +"Don't make me jump, I say, doctor!" he said pathetically. "I'm quite +upset enough as it is. That lazy lout, Soames, won't stir a finger. The +other chaps are on duty. And Miss Eversley has proved faithless. Why +can't you turn to and help?" + +But Seddon was already striding to the door again in hot haste. + +"That idiot of a girl must have crossed the Frontier!" he said, as he +went. "There was a fellow shot on sentry-go last night. It's infernally +dangerous, I tell you!" + +Toby raced after him swearing inarticulately. A couple of subalterns +just entering were nearly overwhelmed by their vigorous exit. They +recovered themselves and followed to the tune of Toby's excited +questioning. But none of the party got beyond the veranda steps, for +there the sound of clattering hoofs arrested them, and a jaded horse +bearing a dishevelled rider was pulled up short in front of the club. + +"Miss Eversley herself!" cried Toby, making a dash forward. + +A native servant slipped unobtrusively to the sweating horse's bridle. +Averil was on the ground in a moment and turned to ascend the steps of +the club-house. + +"Is my brother-in-law here?" she said to Toby, accepting the hand he +offered. + +"Who? Raymond? No; he's in the North Camp somewhere. Do you want him? +Anything wrong? By Jove, Miss Eversley, you've given us an awful +fright!" + +Averil went up the steps with so palpable an effort that Seddon hastily +dragged forward a chair. Her lips, as she answered Toby, were quite +colourless. + +"I have had a fright myself," she said. Then she looked round at the +other men with a shaky laugh. "I have been riding for my life," she said +a little breathlessly. "I have never done that before. It--it's very +exciting--almost more so than riding to hounds. I have often wondered +how the fox felt. Now I know." + +She ignored the chair Seddon placed for her, turning to the boy called +Toby with great resolution. + +"Those lamp-shades, Mr. Carey," she said. "I'm sorry I'm so late. You +must have thought I was never coming. In fact"--the colour was returning +to her face, and her smile became more natural--"I thought so myself a +few minutes ago. Let us set to work at once!" + +Toby burst into a rude whoop of admiration and flung a ball of string +into the air. + +"Miss Eversley, well done! Well done!" he gasped. "You--you deserve a +V.C.!" + +"Indeed I don't," she returned. "I have been running away hard." + +"Tell us all about it, Miss Eversley!" urged one of her listeners. "You +have been across the Frontier, now, haven't you? What happened? Someone +tried to snipe you from afar?" + +But Miss Eversley refused to be communicative. "I am much too busy," she +said, "to discuss anything so unimportant. Come, Mr. Carey, the +lamp-shades!" + +Toby bore her off in triumph to inspect his works of art. There was a +good deal of understanding in Toby's head despite its curls which he +kept so resolutely cropped. He attended to business without a hint of +surprise or inattention. And he was presently rewarded for his good +behaviour. + +Averil, raising her eyes for a moment from one of the shades which she +was tacking together while he held it in shape, said presently: + +"A very peculiar thing happened to me this morning, Mr. Carey." + +"Yes?" he replied, trying to keep the note of expectancy out of his +voice. + +Averil nodded gravely. "I crossed the Frontier," she said, "and rode +into the mountains. I thought I heard a child crying. I lost my way and +fell among thieves." + +"Yes?" said Toby again. He looked up, frankly interested this time. + +"I was shot at," she resumed. "It was my own fault, of course. I +shouldn't have gone. My brother-in-law warned me very seriously against +going an inch beyond the Frontier only last night. Well, one buys one's +experience. I certainly shall never go again, not for a hundred wailing +babies." + +"Probably a bird," remarked Toby practically. + +"Probably," assented Averil, equally practical. "To continue: I didn't +know what to do. I was horribly frightened. I had lost my bearings. And +then out of the very midst of my enemies there came a friend." + +"Ah!" said Toby quickly. "The right sort?" + +"There is only one sort," she said, with a touch of dignity. + +"And what did he do?" said Toby, with eager interest. + +"He simply took my bridle and ran by my side till we were out of +danger," Averil said, a sudden soft glow creeping up over her face. + +Toby looked at her very seriously. "In native rig, I suppose?" he said. + +"Yes," said Averil. + +"Carlyon of the Frontier," said Toby, with abrupt decision. + +She nodded. "I did not know he had left England," she said. + +"He hasn't--officially speaking," said Toby. He was watching her +steadily. "Do you know, Miss Eversley," he said, "I think I wouldn't +mention your discovery to any one else?" + +"I am not going to," she said. + +"No? Then why did you tell me?" he asked, with a tinge of rude suspicion +in his voice. + +Averil looked him suddenly and steadily in the face. It was a very +innocent face that Toby Carey presented to a serenely credulous world. + +"Because," said Averil slowly, "he told me to tell you alone. 'Tell Toby +Carey only,' he said, 'to watch when the beasts go down to drink.' They +were his last words." + +"Good!" said Toby unconcernedly. "Then he knew you recognized him?" + +"Yes," Averil said; "he knew." She smiled faintly as she said it. "He +told me he was in no danger," she added. + +"Is he a friend of yours?" asked Toby sharply. + +"Yes," said Averil, with pride. + +"I'm sorry to hear it," said Toby bluntly. + +"Why?" she asked, with a swift flash of anger. + +"Why?" he echoed vehemently. "Ask your brother-in-law, ask Seddon, ask +any one! The man is a fiend!" + +Averil sprang to her feet in sudden fury. + +"How dare you!" she cried passionately. "He is a king!" + +Toby stared for a moment, then grew calm. "We are not talking about the +same man, Miss Eversley," he said shortly. "The man I know is a fiend +among fiends. The man you know is, no doubt--different." + +But Averil swept from the club-room without a word. She was very angry +with Toby Carey. + + + + +VII + +THE REAL COLONEL CARLYON + + +Averil rode back to her brother-in-law's bungalow, vexed with herself, +weary at heart, troubled. She had arrived at the station among the +mountains on the Frontier two months before, and had spent a very happy +time there with the sister whom she had not seen for years. The ladies +of the station numbered a very scanty minority, but there was no lack of +gaiety and merriment on that account. + +That the hills beyond the Great Frontier were peopled by tribes in a +seething state of discontent was a matter known, but little recked of, +by the majority of the community. Officers went their several ways, +fully awake to threatening rumours, but counting them of small +importance. They went to their sport; to their polo, their racing, +their gymkhanas, with light hearts and in perfect security. They lay +down in the dread shadow of a mighty Empire and slept secure in the very +jaws of danger. + +The fierce and fanatical hatred that raged over the Frontier was less +than nothing to most of them. The power that sheltered them was wholly +sufficient for their confidence. + +The toughness of the good northern breed is of a quality untearable, +made to endure in all climates, under all conditions. Ordered to carry +revolvers, they stuffed them unloaded into side-pockets, or left them in +the hands of _syces_ to bear behind them. + +Proof positive of their total failure to realize the danger that +threatened from amidst the frowning, grey-cragged mountains was the fact +that their womenkind were allowed to remain at the station, and even +rode and drove forth unattended on the rocky, mountain roads. + +True, they were warned against crossing the Frontier. A few officers, of +whom Captain Raymond, who was Averil's brother-in-law, and Toby Carey, +the innocent-faced subaltern, were two, saw the rising wave from afar; +but they saw it vaguely as inevitable but not imminent. Captain Raymond +planned to himself to send his wife and her sister to Simla before the +monsoon broke up the fine weather. + +And this was all he accomplished beyond administering a severe reprimand +to his young sister-in-law for running into danger among the hills. + +"There are always thieves waiting to bag anyone foolish enough to show +his nose over the border," he said. "Isn't the Indian Empire large +enough for you that you must needs go trespassing among savages?" + +Averil heard him out with the patience of a slightly wandering +attention. She had not recounted the whole of her experience for his +benefit, nor did she intend to do so. She was still wondering what the +mysterious message she had delivered to Toby Carey might be held to +mean. + +When Captain Raymond had exhausted himself she went away to her own room +and sat for a long while gazing towards the great mountains, thinking, +thinking. + +Her sister presently joined her. Mrs. Raymond was a dark-eyed, +merry-hearted little woman, the gay originator of many a frolic, and an +immense favourite with men and women alike. + +"Poor darling! I declare Harry has made you look quite miserable!" was +her exclamation, as she ran lightly in and seated herself on the arm of +Averil's chair. + +"Harry!" echoed Averil, in a tone of such genuine scorn that Mrs. +Raymond laughed aloud. + +"You're very rude," she said. "Still, I'm glad Harry isn't the offender. +Who is it, I wonder? But, never mind! I have a splendid piece of news +for you, dear. Shut your eyes and guess!" + +"Oh, I can't indeed!" protested Averil. "I am much too tired." + +Mrs. Raymond looked at her with laughing eyes. + +"There! She shan't be teased!" she cried gaily. "It's the loveliest +surprise you ever had, darling; but I can't keep it a secret any longer. +I wanted to see him now that he is grown up, and quite satisfy myself +that he is really good enough for you. So, dear, I wrote to him and +begged him to join us here. And the result is--now guess!" + +Averil had turned sharply to look at her. + +"Do you mean you have asked Dick to come here?" she said, in a quick, +startled way. + +"Exactly, dear; I actually have," said Mrs. Raymond. "More--we had a +wire this morning. He will be here to dinner." + +"Oh!" said Averil. She rose hastily, so hastily that her sister was left +sitting on the arm of the bamboo chair, which instantly overturned on +the top of her. + +Averil extricated her with many laughing apologies, and, by the time +Mrs. Raymond had recovered her equilibrium, the younger girl had lost +her expression of astonishment and was looking as bright and eager as +her sister could desire. + +"Only Dick is such a madcap," she said. "How shall we keep him from +getting up to mischief in No Man's Land precisely as I have done?" + +Mrs. Raymond opined that Averil ought by then to have discovered the +secret of managing the young man, and they went to _tiffin_ on the +veranda in excellent spirits. + +Dr. Seddon was there and young Steele, one of Raymond's subalterns. +Averil found herself next to the doctor, who, rather to her surprise, +forebore to twit her with her early morning adventure. He was, in fact, +very grave, and she wondered why. + +Steele, strolling by her side in the shady compound, by and bye +volunteered information. + +"Poor old Seddon is in a mortal funk," he said, "which accounts for his +wretched appetite. He has been wasting steadily ever since Carlyon went +away. He thinks Carlyon is the only fellow capable of taking care of +him. No one else is monster enough." + +"Is Colonel Carlyon expected out here?" Averil asked, in a casual tone. + +One of Steele's eyelids contracted a little as if it wanted to wink. He +answered her in a low voice: "Carlyon is never expected before his +arrival, Miss Eversley." + +"No?" said Averil indifferently. "And, why, please do you call him a +monster?" + +Steele laughed a little. "Didn't you know?" he said. "Why, he is the +King of Evil in these parts!" + +Averil felt her face slowly flushing. "I don't understand," she said. + +"Don't you?" said Steele. "Honestly now?" + +The flush heightened. "Of course I don't," she said. "Otherwise why +should I tell you so?" + +"Pardon!" said Steele, unabashed. "Well, then, you must know that we are +all frightened of Carlyon of the Frontier. We hate him badly, but he has +the whip-hand of us, and so we have to do the tame trot for him. Over +there"--he jerked his head towards the mountains--"they would lie down +in a row miles long and let him walk over their necks. And not a single +blackguard among them would dare to stab upwards, because Carlyon is +immortal, as everyone knows, and it wouldn't be worth the blackguard's +while to survive the deed. + +"They don't call him Carlyon in the mountains, but it's the same man, +for all that. He is a prophet, a deity, among them. They believe in him +blindly as a special messenger from Heaven. And he plays with them, +barters them, betrays them, every single day he spends among them. He is +strong, he is unscrupulous, he is merciless. He respects no friendship. +He keeps no oath. He betrays, he tortures, he slays. Even we, the +enlightened race, shrink from him as if he were the very fiend +incarnate. + +"But he is a valuable man. The information he obtains is priceless. But +he trades with blood. He lives on treachery. He is more subtle than the +subtlest Pathan. He would betray any one or all of us to death if it +were to the interest of the Empire that we should be sacrified. That, +you know, in reason, is all very well. But, personally, I would sooner +tread barefoot on a scorpion than get entangled in Carlyon's web. He is +more false and more cruel than a serpent. At least, that is his +reputation among us. And those heathen beggars trust him so utterly." + +Steele stopped abruptly. He had spoken with strong passion. His honest +face was glowing with indignation. He was British to the backbone, and +he loathed all treachery instinctively. + +Suddenly he saw that the girl beside him had turned very white. He +paused in his walk with an awkward sense of having spoken unadvisedly. + +"Of course," he said, with a boyish effort to recover his ground, "it +has to be done. Someone must do the dirty work. But that doesn't make +you like the man who does it a bit the better. One wouldn't brush +shoulders with the hangman if one knew it." + +Averil was standing still. Her hands were clenched. + +"Are you talking of Colonel Carlyon--my friend?" she said slowly. + +Steele turned sharply away from the wide gaze of her grey eyes. + +"I hope not, Miss Eversley," he said. "The man I mean is not fit to be +the friend of any woman." + + + + +VIII + +THE STRANGER ON THE VERANDA + + +It was to all outward seeming a very gay crowd that assembled at the +club-house on the following night for the first dance of the season. +For some unexplained reason sentries had been doubled on all sides of +the Camp, but no one seemed to have any anxiety on that account. + +"We ought to feel all the safer," laughed Mrs. Raymond when she heard. +"No one ever took such care of us before." + +"It must be all rot," said Derrick who had arrived the previous evening +in excellent spirits. "If there were the smallest danger of a rising you +wouldn't be here." + +"Quite true," laughed Mrs. Raymond, "unless the road to Fort Akbar is +considered unsafe." + +"I never saw a single border thief all the way here!" declared Derrick, +departing to look for Averil. + +He claimed the first waltz imperiously, and she gave it to him. She was +the prettiest girl in the room, and she danced with a queenly grace of +movement. Derrick was delighted. He did not like giving her up, but +Steele was insistent on this point. He had made Derrick's acquaintance +in the Frontier campaign of a year before, and he parted the two without +scruple, declaring he would not stand by and see a good chap like +Derrick make a selfish beast of himself on such an occasion. + +Derrick gave place with a laugh and sought other partners. In the middle +of the evening Toby Carey strolled up to Averil and bent down in a +conversational attitude. He was not dancing himself. She gave him a +somewhat cold welcome. + +After a few commonplace words he took her fan from her hand and +whispered to her behind it: + +"There's a fellow on the veranda waiting to speak to you," he said. +"Calls himself a friend." + +Her heart leapt at the murmured words. She glanced hurriedly round. +Everyone in the room was dancing. She had pleaded fatigue. She rose +quietly and stepped to the window, Toby following. + +She stood a moment on the threshold of the night and then passed slowly +out. All about her was dark. + +"Go on to the steps!" murmured Toby behind her. "I shall keep watch." + +She went on with gathering speed. At the head of the veranda-steps she +dimly discerned a figure waiting for her, a figure clothed in some +white, muffling garment that seemed to cover the face. And yet she knew +by all her bounding pulses whom she had found. + +"Colonel Carlyon!" she said, and on the impulse of the moment she gave +him both her hands. + +His quiet voice answered her out of the strange folds. "Come into the +garden a moment!" he said. + +She went with him unquestioning, with the confidence of a child. He led +her with silent, stealthy tread into the deepest gloom the compound +afforded. Then he stopped and faced her with a question that sent a +sudden tumult of doubt racing through her brain. + +"Will you take a message to Fort Akbar for me, Averil?" he said. "A +matter of life and death." + +A message! Averil's heart stood suddenly-still. All the evil report that +she had heard of this man raised its head like a serpent roused from +slumber, a serpent that had hidden in her breast, and a terrible agony +of fear took the place of her confidence. + +Carlyon waited for her answer without a sign of impatience. Through her +mind, as it were on wheels of fire, Steele's passionate words were +running: "He lives on treachery. He would betray any one or all of us to +death if it were to the interest of the Empire that we should be +sacrificed." And again: "I would sooner tread barefoot on a scorpion +than get entangled in Carlyon's web." + +All this she would once have dismissed as vilest calumny. But Carlyon's +abandonment of Derrick, and his subsequent explanation thereof, were +terribly overwhelming evidence against him. And now this man, this spy, +wanted to use her as an instrument to accomplish some secret end of his. + +A matter of life or death, he said. And for which of these did he +purpose to use her efforts? Averil sickened at the possibilities the +question raised in her mind. And still Carlyon waited for her answer. + +"Why do you ask me?" she said at last, in a quivering whisper. "What is +the message you want to send?" + +"You delivered a message for me only yesterday without a single +question," he said. + +She wrung her hands together in the darkness. "I know. I know," she +said; "but then I did not realize." + +"You saved the camp from destruction," he went on. "Will you not do the +same to-night?" + +"How shall I know?" she sobbed in anguish. + +"What have they been telling you?" + +The quiet voice came in strange contrast to the agitated uncertainty of +her tones. Carlyon laid steady hands on her shoulders. In the dim light +his eyes had leapt to blue flame, sudden, intense. She hid her face from +their searching; ashamed, horrified at her own doubts--yet still +doubting. + +"Your friendship has stood a heavier strain than this," Carlyon said, +with grave reproach. + +But she could not answer him. She dared scarcely face her own thoughts +privately, much less utter them to him. + +What if he were urging the tribes to rise to give the Government a +pretext for war? She had heard him say that peace had come too soon, +that war alone could remedy the evil of constantly recurring outrages +along that troublous Frontier. + +What if he counted the lives of a few women and their gallant protectors +as but a little price to pay for the accomplishment of this end? + +What if he purposed to make this awful sacrifice in the interests of the +Empire, and only asked this thing of her because no other would +undertake it? + +She lifted her face. He was still looking at her with those strange, +burning eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul. + +"Averil," he said, "you may do a great thing for the Empire to-night--if +you will." + +The Empire! Ah, what fearful things would he not do behind that mask! +Yet she stood silent, bound by the spell of his presence. + +Carlyon went on. "There is going to be a rising, but we shall hold our +own, I hope without loss. You can ride a horse, and I can trust you. +This message must be delivered to-night. There is not an officer at +liberty. I would not send one if there were. Every man will be wanted. +Averil, will you go for me?" + +He was holding her very gently between his hands. He seemed to be +pleading with her. Her resolution began to waver. They had shattered her +idol, yet she clung fast to the crumbling shrine. + +"You will not let them be killed?" she whispered piteously. "Oh, promise +me!" + +"No one belonging to this camp will be killed if I can help it," he +said. "You will tell them at Fort Akbar that we are prepared here. +General Harford is marching to join them from Fort Wara. Whatever they +may hear they must not dream of moving to join us till he reaches them. +They are not strong enough. They would be cut to pieces. That is the +message you are going to take for me. Their garrison is too small to be +split up, and Fort Akbar must be protected at all costs. It is a more +important post than this even." + +"But there are women here," Averil whispered. + +"They are under my protection," said Carlyon quietly. "I want you to +start at once--before we shut the gates." + +"Have they taken you by surprise, then?" she asked, with a sharp, +involuntary shiver. + +"No," Carlyon said. "They have taken the Government by surprise. That's +all." He spoke with strong bitterness. For he was the watchman who had +awaked in vain. + +A moment later he was drawing her with him along the shadowy path. + +"You need have no fear," he whispered to her. "The road is open all the +way. I have a horse waiting that will carry you safely. It is barely ten +miles. You have done it before." + +"Am I to go just as I am?" she asked him, carried away by his +unfaltering resolution. + +"Yes," said Carlyon, "except for this." He loosened the _chuddah_ from +his own head and stooped to muffle it about hers. "I have provided for +your going," he said. "You will see no one. You know the way. Go hard!" + +He moved on again. His arm was round her shoulders. + +"And you?" she said, with sudden misgiving. + +"I shall go back to the camp," he said, "when I have seen you go." + +They went a little farther, ghostly, white figures gliding side by +side. Wildly as her heart was beating, Averil felt that it was all +strangely unreal, felt that the man beside her was a being unknown and +mysterious, almost supernatural. And yet, strangely, she did not fear +him. As she had once said to him, she believed he was a good man. She +would always believe it. And yet was that awful doubt hammering through +her brain. + +They reached the bounds of the club compound and Carlyon stopped again. +From the building behind them there floated the notes of a waltz, weird, +dream-like, sweet as the earth after rain in summer. + +"I want to know," Carlyon said steadily, "if you trust me." + +She stretched up her hands like a child and laid them against his +breast. She answered him with piteous entreaty in which passion +strangely mingled. + +"Colonel Carlyon," she whispered brokenly, "promise me that when this is +over you will give it up! You were not made to spy and betray! You were +made an honourable, true-hearted man--God's greatest and best creation. +You were never meant to be twisted and warped to an evil use. Ah, tell +me you will give it up! How can I go away and leave you toiling in the +dungeons?" + +"Hush!" said Carlyon. "You do not understand." + +Later, she remembered with what tenderness he gathered her hands again +into his own, holding them reverently. At the time she realized nothing +but the monstrous pity of his wasted life. + +"It isn't true!" she sobbed. "You would not sacrifice your friends?" + +"Never!" said Carlyon sharply. + +He paused. Then--"You must go, Averil," he said. "There are two sentries +on the Buddhist road, and the password is 'Empire.' After that-straight +to Akbar. The moon is rising, and no one will speak to you or attempt to +stop you. You will not be afraid?" + +"I trust you," she said very earnestly. + +Ten minutes later, as the moon shot the first silver streak above the +frowning mountains, a white horse flashed out on the road beyond the +camp--a white horse bearing a white-robed rider. + +On the edge of the camp one sentry turned to another with wonder on his +face. + +"That messenger's journey will be soon over," he remarked. "An easy +target for the black fiends!" + +In the mountains a dusky-faced hillman turned glittering, awe-struck +eyes upon the flying white figure. + +"Behold!" he said. "The Heaven-sent rides to the moonrise even as he +foretold. The time draws near." + +And Carlyon, walking back in strange garb to join his own people, +muttered to himself as he went: "One woman, at least, is safe!" + + + + +IX + +A FIGHT IN THE NIGHT + + +An hour before daybreak the gathering wave broke upon the camp. It was +Toby Carey who ran hurriedly in upon the dancers in the club-room when +they were about to disperse and briefly announced that there was going +to be a fight. He added that Carlyon was at the mess-house, and desired +all the men to join him there. The women were to remain at the club, +which was already surrounded by a party of Sikhs and Goorkhas. Toby +begged them to believe they were in no danger. + +"Where is Averil?" cried Mrs. Raymond distractedly. + +"Carlyon has already provided for her safety," Toby assured her, as he +raced off again. + +Five minutes later Carlyon, issuing rapid orders in the veranda of the +mess-house, turned at the grip of a hand on his shoulder, and saw +Derrick, behind him, wild-eyed and desperate. + +"What have you done with Averil?" the boy said through white lips. + +"She is safe at Akbar," Carlyon briefly replied. Then, as Derrick +instantly wheeled, he caught him swiftly by the arm. + +"You wait, Dick!" he said. "I have work for you." + +"Let me go!" flashed Derrick fiercely. + +But Carlyon maintained his hold. He knew what was in the lad's mind. + +"It can't be done," he said. "It would be certain death if you attempted +it. We are cut off for the present." + +He interrupted himself to speak to an officer who was awaiting an order +then turned again to Derrick. + +"I tell you the truth, Dick," he said, a sudden note of kindliness in +his voice. "She is safe. I had the opportunity--for one only. I took +it--for her. You can't follow her. You have forfeited your right to +throw away your life. Don't forget it, boy, ever! You have got to live +for her and let the blackguards take the risks." + +He ended with a faint smile, and Derrick fell back abashed, an unwilling +admiration struggling with the sullenness of his submission. + +Later, at Carlyon's order, he joined the party that had been detailed to +watch over the club-house, the most precious and the safest position in +the whole station. He chafed sorely at the inaction, but he repressed +his feelings. + +Carlyon's words had touched him in the right place. Though fiercely +restless still, his manhood had been stirred, and gradually the +strength, the unflinching resolution that had dominated Averil, took the +place of his feverish excitement. Derrick, the impulsive and headstrong, +became the mainstay as well as the undismayed protector of the women +during that night scare of the Frontier. + +There was sharp fighting down in the camp. They heard the firing and the +shouts; but with the sunrise there came a lull. The women turned white +faces to one another and wondered if it could be over. + +Presently Derrick entered with the latest news. The tribesmen had been +temporarily beaten off, he said, but the hills were full of them. Their +own losses during the night amounted to two wounded sepoys. Fighting +during the day was not anticipated. + +Carlyon, snatching hasty refreshment in a hut near the scene of the +hottest fighting, turned grimly to Raymond, his second in command, as +gradual quiet descended upon the camp. + +"You will see strange things to-night," he said. + +Raymond, whose right wrist had been grazed by a bullet, was trying +clumsily to bandage it with his handkerchief. + +"How long is it going to last?" he said. + +"To-night will see the end of it," said Carlyon, quietly going to his +assistance. "The rising has been brewing for some time. The tribesmen +need a lesson, so does the Government. It is just a bubble--this. It +will explode to-night. To be honest for once"--Carlyon smiled a little +over his bandaging--"I did not expect this attack so soon. A Heaven-sent +messenger has been among the tribesmen. They revere him almost as much +as the great prophet himself. He has been listening to their +murmurings." + +Carlyon paused. Raymond was watching him intently, but the quiet face +bent over his wound told him nothing. + +"Had I known what was coming," Carlyon said, "so much as three days ago, +the women would not now be in the station. As things are, it would have +been impossible to weaken the garrison to supply them with an escort to +Akbar." + +Raymond stifled a deep curse in his throat. Had they but known indeed! + +Carlyon went on in his deliberate way: "I shall leave you in command +here to-night. I have other work to do. General Harford will be here at +dawn. The attacking force will be on the east of the camp. You will +crush them between you! You will stamp them down without mercy. Let them +see the Empire is ready for them! They will not trouble us again for +perhaps a few years." + +Again he paused. Raymond asked no question. Better than most he knew +Carlyon of the Frontier. + +"It will be a hard blow," Carlyon said. "The tribesmen are very +confident. Last night they watched a messenger ride eastwards on a white +horse. It was an omen foretold by the Heaven-sent when he left them to +carry the message through the hills to other tribes." + +Raymond gave a great start. "The girl!" he said. + +For a second Carlyon's eyes met his look. They were intensely blue, with +the blueness of a flame. + +"She is safe at Akbar," he said, returning without emotion to the +knotting of the bandage. "The road was open for the messenger. The horse +was swift. There is one woman less to take the risk." + +"I see," said Raymond quietly. He was frowning a little, but not at +Carlyon's strategy. + +"The rest," Carlyon continued, "must be fought for. The moon is full +to-night. The Great Fakir will come out of the hills in his zeal and +lead the tribes himself. Guard the east!" + +Raymond drew a sharp breath. But Carlyon's hand on his shoulder silenced +the astounded question on his lips. + +"We have got to protect the women," Carlyon said. "Relief will come at +dawn." + + + + +X + +SAVED A SECOND TIME + + +All through the day quiet reigned. An occasional sword-glint in the +mountains, an occasional gleam of white against the brown hillside; +these were the only evidences of an active enemy. + +The women were released from durance in the club-house, with strict +orders to return in the early evening. + +Derrick went restlessly through the camp, seeking Carlyon. He found him +superintending the throwing-up of earthworks. The most exposed part of +the camp was to be abandoned. Derrick joined him in silence. Somehow +this man's personality attracted him strongly. Though he had defied him, +quarrelled with him, insulted him, the spell of his presence was +irresistible. + +Carlyon paid small attention to him till he turned to leave that part of +the camp's defences. Then, with a careless hand through Derrick's arm, +he said: + +"You will have your fill of stiff fighting to-night, boy. But, remember, +you are not to throw yourself away." + +As evening fell, the attack was resumed, and it continued throughout the +night. Tribesmen charged up to the very breastworks themselves and fell +before the awful fire of the defenders' rifles. Death had no terrors for +them. They strove for the mastery with fanatical zeal. But they strove +in vain. A greater force than they possessed, the force of discipline +and organized resistance--kept them at bay. Behind the splendid courage +of the Indian soldiers were the resource and the resolution of a handful +of Englishmen. The spirit of the conquering race, unquenchable, +irresistible, weighed down the balance. + +In the middle of the night Captain Raymond was hit in the shoulder and +carried, fainting, to the closely guarded club-house, where his wife was +waiting. + +The command devolved upon Lieutenant Steele, who took up the task +undismayed. Down in the hastily dug trenches Toby Carey was fiercely +holding his men to their work. + +And Derrick Rose was with him, unrestrained for that night at least. + +"Relief at dawn!" Toby said to him once. + +And Derrick responded with a wild laugh. + +"Relief be damned! We can hold our own without it." + + * * * * * + +Relief came with the dawn, at a moment when the tribesmen were spurring +themselves to the greatest effort of all, sustained by the knowledge +that their Great Fakir was among them. + +General Harford, with guides, Sikhs, Goorkhas, came down like a +hurricane from the south-east, cut off a great body of tribesmen from +their fellows, and drove them headlong, with deadly force, upon the +defences they had striven so furiously to take. + +The defenders sallied out to meet them with fixed bayonets. The brief +siege, if siege it could be called, was over. + +In the early light Derrick found himself fighting, fighting furiously, +sword to sword. And the terrible joy of the conflict ran in his blood +like fire. + +"Ah!" he gasped. "It's good! It's good!" + +And then he found another fighting beside him--a mighty fighting man, +grim, terrible, silent. They thrust together; they withdrew together; +they charged together. + +Once an enemy seized Derrick's sword and he found himself vainly +struggling against the awful, wild-faced fanatic's sinewy grasp. He saw +the man's upraised arm, and knew with horrible certainty that he was +helpless, helpless. + +Then there shot out a swift, rescuing hand. A straight and deadly blow +was struck. And Derrick, flinging a laugh over his shoulder, beheld a +man dressed as a tribesman fall headlong over his enemy's body, struck +to the earth by another swordsman. + +Like lightning there flashed through his brain the memory of a man who +had saved his life more than a year before on this same tumultuous +Frontier--a man in tribesman's dress, with blue eyes of a strange, keen +friendliness. He had it now. This was the Secret Service man. Derrick +planted himself squarely over the prostrate body, and there stood while +the fight surged on about him to the deadly and inevitable end. + + + + +XI + +THE SECRET OUT + + +"All Carlyon's doing!" General Harford said a little later. "He has +pulled the strings throughout, from their very midst. Carlyon the +ubiquitous, Carlyon the silent, Carlyon the watchful! He has averted a +horrible catastrophe. The Indian Government must be made to understand +that he is a servant worth having. They say he personally led the +tribesmen to their death. They certainly walked very willingly into the +trap arranged for them. Now, where is Carlyon?" + +No one knew. In the plain outside the camp wounded men were being +collected. The General was relieved to hear that Carlyon was not among +them. He sat down to make his report, a highly eulogistic report, of +this man's splendid services. And then he went to late breakfast at the +club-house. + +In the evening Averil rode back to the station with an escort. The +terrible traces of the struggle were not wholly removed. They rode round +by a longer route to avoid the sight. + +Seddon was the first of her friends who saw her. He was standing inside +the mess-house. He went hurriedly forward and gave her brief details of +the fight. Then, while they were talking, Derrick himself came running +up. He greeted her with less of his boyish effusion than was customary. + +"How is the Secret Service man?" he asked abruptly of Seddon. "Is he +badly damaged?" + +The latter looked at him hard for a second. + +"You can come in and see him," he said, and led the way into the mess. + +Averil and Derrick followed him hand in hand. In a few low words the boy +told her of his old friend's reappearance. + +"He has saved my life twice over," he said. + +"He has saved more lives than yours," Seddon remarked abruptly, over his +shoulder. + +He led the way "to the little ante-room where, stretched on a sofa, lay +Derrick's Secret Service man. He was dressed in white, his face half +covered with a fold of his head-dress. But the eyes were open--blue, +alert, beneath drooping lids. He was speaking, softly, quickly, as a man +asleep. + +"The women must be protected," he said. "Let the blackguards take the +risks!" + +Averil started forward with a cry, and in a moment was kneeling by his +side. The strange eyes were turned upon her instantly. They were +watchful still and exceeding tender--the eyes of the hero she loved. +They faintly smiled at her. To his death he would keep up the farce. To +his death he would never show her the secret he had borne so long. + +"Ah! The message!" he said, with an effort. "You gave it?" + +"There was no need of a message," Averil cried. "You invented it to get +me away, to make me escape from danger. You knew that otherwise I would +not have gone. It was your only reason for sending me." + +He did not answer her. The smile died slowly out. His eyes passed to +Derrick. He looked at him very earnestly, and there was unutterable +pleading in the look. + +The boy stooped forward. Shocked by the sudden discovery, he yet +answered as it were involuntarily to the man's unspoken wish. He knelt +down beside the girl, his arm about her shoulders. His voice came with a +great sob. + +"The Secret Service man and Carlyon of the Frontier in one!" he said. "A +man who does not forsake his friends. I might have known." + +There was a pause, a great silence. Then Carlyon of the Frontier spoke +softly, thoughtfully, with grave satisfaction it seemed. He looked at +neither of them, but beyond them both. His eyes were steady and +fearless. + +"A blackguard--a spy--yet faithful to his friends--even so," he said; +and died. + +The boy and girl were left to each other. He had meant it to be so--had +worked for it, suffered for it. In the end Carlyon of the Frontier had +done that which he had set himself to do, at a cost which none other +would ever know--not even the girl who had loved him. + + + + +The Penalty + +I + + +"Now then, you fellows, step out there! Step out like the men you are! +Left--right! Left--right! That's the way! Holy Jupiter! Call those chaps +savages! They're gentlemen, every jack one of 'em. That's it, my +hearties! Salute the old flag! By Jove, Monty, a British squad couldn't +have done it better!" + +The speaker pushed back his helmet to wipe his forehead. He was very +much in earnest. The African sun blazing down on his bronzed face +revealed that. The blue eyes glittered out of the lean, tanned +countenance. They were full of resolution, indomitable resolution, and +good British pluck. + +As the little company of black men swung by, with the rhythmic pad of +their bare feet, he suddenly snatched out his sword and waved it high in +the smiting sunlight. + +"Halt!" he cried. + +They stood as one man, all gleaming eyes and gleaming teeth. They were +all a good head taller than the Englishman who commanded them, but they +looked upon him with reverence, as a being half divine. + +"Now, cheer, you beggars, cheer!" he cried. "Three cheers for the King! +Hip, hip--" + +"Hooray!" came in hoarse chorus from the assembled troop. It sounded +like a war cry. + +"Hip, hip--" yelled the Englishman again. + +And again "Hooray!" came the answering yell. + +"Hip, hip--" for the third time from the man with the sword. + +And for the third time, "Hooray!" from the deep-chested troopers halted +in the blazing sunshine. + +The British officer turned about with an odd smile quivering at the +corners of his mouth. There was an almost maternal tenderness about it. + +He sheathed his sword. + +"You beauties!" he murmured softly. "You beauties!" Then aloud, "Very +good, sergeant! Dismiss them! Come along, Monty! Let's go and have a +drink." + +He linked his arm in that of the silent onlooker, and drew him into the +little hut of rough-hewn timber which was dignified by the name, printed +in white letters over the door, of "Officers' Quarters." + +"What do you think of them?" he demanded, as they entered. "Aren't they +soldiers? Aren't they men?" + +"I think, Duncannon," the other answered slowly, "that you have worked +wonders." + +"Ah, you'll tell the Chief so? Won't he be astounded? He swore I should +never do it; declared they'd knife me if I tried to hammer any +discipline into them. Much he knows about it! Good old Chief!" + +He laughed boyishly, and again wiped his hot face. + +"On my soul, Monty, it's been no picnic," he declared. "But I'd have +sacrificed five years' pay, and my step as well, gladly--gladly--sooner +than have missed it. Here you are, old boy! Drink! Drink to the latest +auxiliary force in the British Empire! Damn' thirsty climate, this." + +He tossed his helmet aside, and sat down on the edge of the table--a +lithe, spare figure, brimming with active strength. + +"I've literally coaxed those chaps into shape," he declared. "Oh, yes, +I've bullied 'em too--cursed 'em right and left; but they never turned a +hair--knew it was all for their good, and took it lying down. I've +taught 'em to wash too, you know. That was the hardest job of all. I +knocked one great brute all round the parade-ground one day, just to +show I was in earnest. He went off afterwards, and blubbed like a baby. +But in the evening I found him squatting outside, quite naked, and as +clean as a whistle. To quote the newspapers, I was profoundly touched. +But I didn't show it, you bet. I whacked him on the shoulder, and told +him to be a man." + +He broke off to laugh at the reminiscence; and Montague Herne gravely +set down his glass, and turned his chair with its back to the sunlight. + +"Do you know you've been here eighteen months?" he said. + +Duncannon nodded. + +"I feel as if I'd been born here. Why?" + +"Most fellows," proceeded Herne, ignoring the question, "would have been +clamouring for leave long ago. Why, you have scarcely heard your own +language all this time." + +"I have though," said Duncannon quickly. "That's another thing I've +taught 'em. They picked it up wonderfully quickly. There isn't one of +'em who doesn't know a few sentences now." + +"You seem to have found your vocation in teaching these heathen to sit +up and beg," observed Herne, with a dry smile. + +Duncannon turned dusky red under his tan. + +"Perhaps I have," he said, with a certain, doggedness. + +Herne, with his back to the light, was watching him. + +"Well," he said finally, "we've served our turn. The battalion is going +Home!" + +Duncannon gave a great start. + +"Already?" + +"After two years' service," the other reminded him grimly. + +Duncannon fell silent, considering, the matter with bent brows. + +"Who succeeds us?" he asked at length. + +Herne shrugged his shoulders. + +"You don't know?" There was sudden, sharp anxiety in Duncannon's voice. +He got off the table with a jerk. "You must know," he said. + +Herne sat motionless, but he no longer looked the other in the face. + +"You've taught 'em to fight," he said slowly. "They are men enough to +look after themselves now." + +"What?" Duncannon flung the word with violence. He took a single stride +forward, standing over Herne in an attitude that was almost menacing. +His hands were clenched. "What?" he said again. + +Herne leaned back, and felt for his cigarette-case. + +"Take it easy, old chap!" he said. "It was bound to come, you know. It +was never meant to be more than a temporary occupation among these +friendlies. They have been useful to us, I admit. But we can't fight +their battles for them for ever. It's time for them to stand on their +own legs. Have a smoke!" + +Duncannon ignored the invitation. He turned pale to the lips. For a +space of seconds he said nothing whatever. Then at length, slowly, in a +voice that was curiously even, "Yes, I've taught 'em to fight," he said. +"And now I'm to leave 'em to be massacred, am I?" + +Herne shrugged his shoulders again, not because he was actually +indifferent, but because, under the circumstances, it was the easiest +answer to make. + +Duncannon went on in the same dead-level tone: + +"Yes, they've been useful to us, these friendlies. They've made common +cause with us against those infernal Wandis. They might have stayed +neutral, or they might have whipped us off the ground. But they didn't. +They brought us supplies, and they brought us mules, and they helped us +along generally, and hauled us out of tight corners. They've given us +all we asked for, and more to it. And now they are going to pay the +penalty, to reap our gratitude. They're going to be left to themselves +to fight our enemies--the fellows we couldn't beat--single-handed, +without experience, without a leader, and only half trained. They are +going to be left as a human sacrifice to pay our debts." + +He paused, standing erect and tense, staring out into the blinding +sunlight. Then suddenly, like the swift kindling of a flame, his +attitude changed. He flung up his hands with a wild gesture. + +"No, I'm damned!" he cried violently. "I'm damned if they shall! They +are my men--the men I made. I've taught 'em every blessed thing they +know. I've taught 'em to reverence the old flag, and I'm damned if I'll +see them betrayed! You can go back to the Chief, and tell him so! Tell +him they're British subjects, staunch to the backbone! Why, they can +even sing the first verse of the National Anthem! You'll hear them at +it to-night before they turn in. They always do. It's a sort of evening +hymn to them. Oh, Monty, Monty, what cursed trick will our fellows think +of next, I wonder? Are we men, or are we reptiles, we English? And we +boast--we boast of our national honour!" + +He broke off, breathing short and hard, as a man desperately near to +collapse, and leaned his head on his arm against the rough wall as if in +shame. + +Herne glanced at him once or twice before replying. + +"You see," he said at length, speaking somewhat laboriously, "what we've +got to do is to obey orders. We were sent out here not to think but to +do. We're on Government service. They are responsible for the thinking +part. We have to carry it out, that's all. They have decided to evacuate +this district, and withdraw to the coast. So"--again he shrugged his +shoulders--"there's no more to be said. We must go." + +He paused, and glanced again at the slight, khaki-clad figure that +leaned against the wall. + +After a moment, meeting with no response, he resumed. + +"There's no sense in taking it hard, since there is no help for it. You +always knew that it was an absolutely temporary business. Of course, if +we could have smashed the Wandis, these chaps would have had a better +look-out. But--well, we haven't smashed them." + +"We hadn't enough men!" came fiercely from Duncannon. + +"True! We couldn't afford to do things on a large scale. Moreover, it's +a beastly country, as even you must admit. And it isn't worth a big +struggle. Besides, we can't occupy half the world to prevent the other +half playing the deuce with it. Come, Bobby, don't be a fool, for +Heaven's sake! You've been treated as a god too long, and it's turned +your head. Don't you want to get Home? What about your people? What +about----" + +Duncannon turned sharply. His face was drawn and grey. + +"I'm not thinking of them," he said, in a choked voice. "You don't know +what this means to me. You couldn't know, and I can't explain. But my +mind is made up on one point. Whoever goes--I stay!" + +He spoke deliberately, though his breathing was still quick and uneven. +His eyes were sternly steadfast. + +Herne stared at him in amazement. + +"My good fellow," he said, "you are talking like a lunatic! I think you +must have got a touch of sun." + +A faint smile flickered over Duncannon's set face. + +"No, it isn't that," he said. "It's a touch of something else--something +you wouldn't understand." + +"But--heavens above!--you have no choice!" Herne exclaimed, rising +abruptly. "You can't say you'll do this or that. So long as you wear a +sword, you have to obey orders." + +"That's soon remedied," said Duncannon, between his teeth. + +With a sudden, passionate movement he jerked the weapon from its sheath, +held it an instant gleaming between his hands, then stooped and bent it +double across his knee. + +It snapped with a sharp click, and instantly he straightened himself, +the shining fragments in his hands, and looked Montague Herne in the +eyes. + +"When you go back to the Chief," he said, speaking very steadily, "you +can take him this, and tell him that the British Government can play +what damned dirty trick they please upon their allies. But I will take +no part in it. I shall stick to my friends." + +And with that he flung the jingling pieces of steel upon the table, took +up his helmet, and passed out into the fierce glare of the little +parade-ground. + + +II + +"Oh, is it our turn at last? I am glad!" + +Betty Derwent raised eyes of absolute honesty to the man who had just +come to her side, and laid her hand with obvious alacrity upon his arm. + +"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself," he said. + +"I'm not!" she declared, with vehemence. "It's perfectly horrid. I hope +you're not wanting to dance, Major Herne? For I want to sit out, +and--and get cool, if possible." + +"I want what you want," said Herne. "Shall we go outside?" + +"Yes--no! I really don't know. I've only just come in. I want to get +away--right away. Can't you think of a quiet corner?" + +"Certainly," said Herne, "if it's all one to you where you go." + +"I should like to run away," the girl said impetuously, "right away from +everybody--except you." + +"That's very good of you," said Herne, faintly smiling. + +The hand that rested on his arm closed with an agitated pressure. + +"Oh, no, it isn't!" she assured him. "It's quite selfish. I--I am like +that, you know. Where are we going?" + +"Upstairs," said Herne. + +"Upstairs!" She glanced at him in surprise, but he offered no +explanation. They were already ascending. + +But when they had mounted one flight of stairs, and were beginning to +mount a second, the girl's eyes flashed understanding. + +"Major Herne, you're a real friend in need!" + +"Think so?" said Herne. "Perhaps--at heart--I am as selfish as you +are." + +"Oh, I don't mind that," she rejoined impulsively. "You are all selfish, +every one of you, but--thank goodness!--you don't all want the same +thing." + +Montague Herne raised his brows a little. + +"Quite sure of that?" + +"Quite sure," said Betty vigorously. "I always know." She added with +apparent inconsequence, "That's how it is we always get on so well. Are +you going to take me right out on to the ramparts? Are you sure there +will be no one else there?" + +"There will be no one where we are going," he said. + +She sighed a sigh of relief. + +"How good! We shall get some air up there, too. And I want air--plenty +of it. I feel suffocated." + +"Mind how you go!" said Herne. "These stairs are uneven." + +They had come to a spiral staircase of stone. Betty mounted it +light-footed, Herne following close behind. + +In the end they came to an oak door, against which the girl set her +hand. + +"Major Herne! It's locked!" + +"Allow me!" said Herne. + +He had produced a large key, at which Betty looked with keen +satisfaction. + +"You really are a wonderful person. You overcome all difficulties." + +"Not quite that, I am afraid." Herne was smiling. "But this is a +comparatively simple matter. The key happens to be in my charge. With +your permission, we will lock the door behind us." + +"Do!" she said eagerly. "I have never been at this end of the ramparts. +I believe I shall spend the rest of the evening here, where no one can +follow us." + +"Haven't you any more partners?" asked Herne. + +She showed him a full card with a little grimace. + +"I have had such an awful experience. I am going to cut the rest." + +He smiled a little. + +"Rather hard on the rest. However----" + +"Oh, don't be silly!" she said impatiently. "It isn't like you." + +"No," said Herne. + +He spoke quietly, almost as if he were thinking of something else. They +had passed through the stone doorway, and had emerged upon a flagged +passage that led between stone walls to the ramparts. Betty passed along +this quickly, mounted the last flight of steps that led to the +battlements, and stood suddenly still. + +A marvellous scene lay spread below them in the moonlight--silent land +and whispering sea. The music of the band in the distant ballroom rose +fitfully--such music as is heard in dreams. Betty stood quite motionless +with the moonlight shining on her face. She looked like a nymph caught +up from the shimmering water. + +Impulsively at length she turned to the man beside her. + +"Shall I tell you what has been happening to me to-night?" + +"If you really wish me to know," said Herne. + +She jerked her shoulder with a hint of impatience. + +"I feel as if I must tell someone, and you are as safe, as any one I +know. I have danced with six men so far, and out of those six three have +asked me to marry them. It's been almost like a conspiracy, as if they +were doing it for a wager. Only, two of them were so horribly in earnest +that it couldn't have been that. Major Herne, why can't people be +reasonable?" + +"Heaven knows!" said Herne. + +She gave him a quick smile. + +"If I get another proposal to-night I shall have hysterics. But I know I +am safe with you." + +Herne was silent. + +Betty gave a little shiver. + +"You think me very horrid to have told you?" + +"No," he answered deliberately, "I don't. I think that you were +extraordinarily wise." + +She laughed with a touch of wistfulness. + +"I have a feeling that if I quite understood what you meant, I shouldn't +regard that as a compliment." + +"Very likely not." Herne's dark face brooded over the distant water. He +did not so much as glance at the girl beside him, though her eyes were +studying him quite frankly. + +"Why are you so painfully discreet?" she said suddenly. "Don't you know +that I want you to give me advice?" + +"Which you won't take," said Herne. + +"I don't know. I might. I quite well might. Anyhow, I should be +grateful." + +He rested one foot on the battlement, still not looking at her. + +"If you took my advice," he said, "you would marry." + +"Marry!" she said with a quick flush. "Why? Why should I?" + +"You know why," said Herne. + +"Really I don't. I am quite happy as I am." + +"Quite?" he said. + +She began to tap her fingers against the stonework. There was something +of nervousness in the action. + +"I couldn't possibly marry any one of the men who proposed to me +to-night," she said. + +"There are other men," said Herne. + +"Yes, I know, but--" She threw out her arms suddenly with a gesture that +had in it something passionate. "Oh, if only I were a man myself!" she +said. "How I wish I were!" + +"Why?" said Herne. + +She answered him instantly, her voice not wholly steady. + +"I want to travel. I want to explore. I want to go to the very heart of +the world, and--and learn its secrets." + +Herne turned his head very deliberately and looked at her. + +"And then?" he said. + +Half defiantly her eyes met his. + +"I would find Bobby Duncannon," she said, "and bring him back." + +Herne stood up slowly. + +"I thought that was it," he said. + +"And why shouldn't it be?" said Betty. "I have known him for a long time +now. Wouldn't you do as much for a pal?" + +Herne was silent for a moment. Then: + +"You would be wiser to forget him," he said. "He will never come back." + +"I shall never forget him," said Betty almost fiercely. + +He looked at her gravely. + +"You mean to waste the rest of your life waiting for him?" he asked. + +Her hands gripped each other suddenly. + +"You call it waste?" she said. + +"It is waste," he made answer, "sheer, damnable waste. The boy was mad +enough to sacrifice his own career--everything that he had--but it is +downright infernal that you should be sacrificed too. Why should you pay +the penalty for his madness? He was probably killed long ago, and even +if not--even if he lived and came back--you would probably ask yourself +if you had ever met him before." + +"Oh, no!" Betty said. "No!" + +She turned and looked out to the water that gleamed so peacefully in the +moonlight. + +"Do you know," she said, her voice very low, scarcely more than a +whisper, "he asked me to marry him--five years ago--just before he went. +It was my first proposal. I was very young, not eighteen. And--and it +frightened me. I really don't know why. And so I refused. He said he +would ask me again when I was older, when I had come out. I remember +being rather relieved when he went away. It wasn't till afterwards, when +I came to see the world and people, that I realized that he was more to +me than any one else. He--he was wonderfully fascinating, don't you +think? So strong, so eager, so full of life! I have never seen any one +quite like him." She leaned her hands suddenly against a projecting +stone buttress and bowed her head upon them. "And I--refused him!" she +said. + +The low voice went out in a faint sob, and the man's hands clenched. The +next instant he had crossed the space that divided him from the slender +figure in its white draperies that drooped against the wall. + +He bent down to her. + +"Betty, Betty," he said, "you're crying for the moon, child. Don't!" + +She turned, and with a slight, confiding movement slid out a trembling +hand. + +"I have never told anyone but you," she said. + +He clasped the quivering fingers very closely. + +"I would sell my soul to see you happy," he said. "But, my dear Betty, +happiness doesn't lie in that direction. You are sacrificing substance +to shadow. Won't you see it before it's too late, before the lean years +come?" He paused a moment, seeming to restrain himself. Then, "I've +never told you before," he said, his voice very low, deeply tender. "I +hardly dare to tell you now, lest you should think I'm trading on your +friendship, but I, too, am one of those unlucky beggars that want to +marry you. You needn't trouble to refuse me, dear. I'll take it all for +granted. Only, when the lean years do come to you, as they will, as they +must, will you remember that I'm still wanting you, and give me the +chance of making you happy?" + +"Oh, don't!" sobbed Betty. "Don't! You hurt me so!" + +"Hurt you, Betty! I!" + +She turned impulsively and leaned her head against him. + +"Major Herne, you--you are awfully good to me, do you know? I shall +never forget it. And if--if I were not quite sure in my heart that Bobby +is still alive and wanting me, I would come to you, if you really cared +to have me. But--but--" + +"Do you mean that, Betty?" he said. His arm was round her, but he did +not seek to draw her nearer, did not so much as try to see her face. + +But she showed it to him instantly, lifting clear eyes, in which the +tears still shone, to his. + +"Oh, yes, I mean it. But, Major Herne, but----" + +He met her look, faintly smiling. + +"Yes," he said. "It's a pretty big 'but,' I know, but I'm going to +tackle it. I'm going to find out if the boy is alive or dead. If he +lives, you shall see him again; if he is dead--and this is the more +probable, for it is no country for white men--I shall claim you for +myself, Betty. You won't refuse me then?" + +"Only find out for certain," she said. + +"I will do that," he promised. + +"But how? How? You won't go there yourself?" + +"Why not?" he said. + +Something like panic showed in the girl's eyes. She laid her hands on +his shoulders. + +"Monty, I don't want you to go." + +"You would rather I stayed?" he said. He was looking closely into her +eyes. + +She endured the look for a little, then suddenly the tears welled up +again. + +"I can't bear you to go," she whispered. "I mean--I mean--I couldn't +bear it if--if----" + +He took her hands gently, and held them. + +"I shall come back to you, Betty," he said. + +"Oh, you will!" she said very earnestly. "You will!" + +"I shall," said Montague Herne; and he said it as a man whose resolution +no power on earth might turn. + + + + +III + +No country for white men indeed! Herne grimly puffed a cloud of smoke +into a whirl of flies, and rose from the packing-case off which he had +dined. + +Near by were the multitudinous sounds of the camp, the voices of Arabs, +the grunting of camels, the occasional squeal of a mule. Beyond lay the +wilderness, mysterious, silent, immense, the home of the unknown. + +He had reached the outermost edge of civilization, and he was waiting +for the return of an Arab spy, a man he trusted, who had pushed on into +the interior. The country beyond him was a dense tract of bush almost +impenetrable; so far as he knew, waterless. + +In the days of the British expedition this had been an almost +insuperable obstacle, but Herne was in no mood to turn back. Behind him +lay desert, wide and barren under the fierce African sun. He had +traversed it with a dogged patience, regardless of hardship, and, +whatever lay ahead of him, he meant to go on. Hidden deep below the +man's calm aspect there throbbed a fierce impatience. It tortured him by +night, depriving him of rest. + +Very curiously, the conviction had begun to take root in his soul also +that Bobby Duncannon still lived. In England he had scouted the notion, +but here in the heart of the desert everything seemed possible. He felt +as if a voice were calling to him out of the mystery towards which he +had set his face, a voice that was never silent, continually urging him +on. + +Wandering that night on the edge of the bush, with the camp-fires behind +him, he told himself that until he knew the truth he would never turn +back. + +He lay down at last, though his restlessness was strong upon him, +compelling his body at least to be passive, while hour after hour +crawled by and the wondrous procession of stars wheeled overhead. + +In the early morning there came a stir in the camp, and he rose, to find +that his messenger had returned. The man was waiting for him outside his +tent. The orange and gold of sunrise was turning the desert into a +wonderland of marvellous colour, but Herne's eyes took no note thereof. +He saw only his Arab guide bending before him in humble salutation, +while in his heart he heard a girl's voice, low and piteous, "Bobby is +still alive and wanting me." + +"Well, Hassan?" he questioned. "Any news?" + +The man's eyes gleamed with a certain triumph. + +"There is news, _effendi_. The man the _effendi_ seeks is no longer +chief of the Zambas. They have been swallowed up by the Wandis." + +Herne groaned. It was only what he had expected, but the memory of the +boy's face with its eager eyes was upon him. The pity of it! The vast, +irretrievable waste! + +"Then he is dead?" he said. + +The Arab spread out his hands. + +"Allah knows. But the Wandis do not always slay their prisoners, +_effendi_. The old and the useless ones they burn, but the strong ones +they save alive. It may be that he lives." + +"As a slave!" Herne said. + +"It is possible, _effendi_." The Arab considered a moment. Then, "The +road to the country of the Wandis is no journey for _effendis_," he +said. "The path is hard to find, and there is no water. Also, the bush +is thick, and there are many savages. But beyond all are the mountains +where the Wandis dwell. It is possible that the chief of the Zambas has +been carried to their City of Stones. It is a wonderful place, +_effendi_. But the way thither, especially now, even for an Arab----" + +"I am going myself," Herne said. + +"The _effendi_ will die!" + +Herne shrugged his shoulders. + +"Be it so! I am going!" + +"But not alone, _effendi_." A speculative gleam shone in the Arab's wary +eyes. He was the only available guide, and he knew it. The Englishman +was mad, of course, but he was willing to humour him--for a +consideration. + +Herne saw the gleam, and his grim face relaxed. + +"Name your price, Hassan!" he said. "If it doesn't suit me--I go alone." + +Hassan smiled widely. Certainly the Englishman was mad, but he had a +sporting fancy for mad Englishmen, a fancy that kept his pouch well +filled. He had not the smallest intention of letting this one out of his +sight. + +"We will go together, _effendi_," he said. "The price shall not be named +between us until we return in peace. But the _effendi_ will need a +disguise. The Wandis have no love for the English." + +"Then I will go as your brother," said Herne. + +The Arab bowed low. + +"As traders in spice," he said, "we might, by the goodness of Allah, +pass through to the Great Desert. But we could not go with a large +caravan, _effendi_, and we should take our lives in our hands." + +"Even so," said the Englishman imperturbably. "Let us waste no time!" + +It had been his attitude throughout, and it had had its effect upon the +men who had travelled with him. They had come to look upon him with +reverence, this mad Englishman, who was thus calmly preparing to risk +his life for a man whose bones had probably whitened in the desert years +before. By sheer, indomitable strength of purpose Herne was +accomplishing inch by inch the task that he had set himself. + +A few days more found him traversing the wide, scrub-grown plateau that +stretched to the mountains where the Wandis had their dwelling-place. +The journey was a bitter one, the heat intense, the difficulties of the +way sometimes wellnigh insurmountable. They carried water with them, +but the need for economy was great, and Herne was continually possessed +by a consuming thirst that he never dared to satisfy. + +The party consisted of himself, Hassan, an Arab lad, and five natives. +The rest of his following he had left on the edge of civilization, +encamped in the last oasis between the desert and the scrub, with orders +to await his return. If, as the Arab had suggested, he succeeded in +pushing through to the farther desert, he would return by a more +southerly route, giving Wanda as wide a berth as possible. + +Thus ran his plans as, day after day, he pressed farther into the heart +of the unknown country that the British had abandoned in despair over +three years before. They found it deserted, in some parts almost +impenetrable, so dense was the growth of bush in all directions. And yet +there were times when it seemed to Herne that the sense of emptiness was +but a superficial impression, as if unseen eyes watched them on that +journey of endless monotony, as if the very camels knew of a lurking +espionage, and sneered at their riders' ignorance. + +This feeling came to him generally at night, when he had partially +assuaged the torment of thirst that gave him no peace by day, and his +mind was more at leisure for speculation. At such times, lying apart +from his companions, wrapt in the immense silence of the African night, +the conviction would rise up within him that every inch of their +progress through that land of mystery was marked by a close observation, +that even as he lay he was under _surveillance_, that the dense +obscurity of the bush all about him was peopled by stealthy watchers +whose vigilance was never relaxed. + +He mentioned his suspicion once to Hassan; but the Arab only smiled. + +"The desert never sleeps, _effendi_. The very grass of the _savannah_ +has ears." + +It was not a very satisfactory explanation, but Herne accepted it. He +put down his uneasiness to the restlessness of nerves that were ever on +the alert, and determined to ignore it. But it pursued him, none the +less; and coupled with it was the voice that called to him perpetually, +like the crying of a lost soul. + +They were drawing nearer to the mountains when one day the Arab lad, +Ahmed, disappeared. It happened during the midday halt, when the rest of +the party were drowsing. No one knew when he went or how, but he +vanished as if a hand had plucked him off the face of the earth. It +seemed unlikely that he would have wandered into the bush, but this was +the only conclusion that they could come to; and they spent the rest of +the day in fruitless searching. + +Herne slept not at all that night. The place seemed to be alive with +ghostly whisperings, and he could not bring himself to rest. He spent +the long hours revolver in hand, waiting with a dogged patience for the +dawn. + +But when it came at last, in a sudden tropical stream of light +illuminating all things, he knew that, his vigilance notwithstanding, he +had been tricked. The morning dawned upon a deserted camp. The natives +had fled in the night, and only Hassan and the camels remained. + +Hassan was largely contemptuous. + +"Let them go!" he said. "We are but a day's journey from Wanda. We will +go forward alone, _effendi_. The chief of the Wandis will not slay two +peaceful merchants who desire only to travel through to the Great +Desert." + +And so, with the camels strung together, they went forward. There was no +attempt at concealment in their progress. The path they travelled was +clearly defined, and they pursued it unmolested. But ever the conviction +followed Herne that countless eyes were upon them, that through the +depths of the bush naked bodies slipped like reptiles, hemming them in +on every side. + +They had travelled a couple of hours, and the sun was climbing +unpleasantly high, when, rounding a curve of the path, they came +suddenly upon a huddled figure. It looked at first sight no more than a +bundle of clothes kicked to one side, too limp and tattered to contain a +human form. But neither Herne nor his companion was deceived. Both knew +in a flash what that inanimate object was. + +Hassan was beside it in a moment, and Herne only waited to draw his +revolver before he followed. + +It was the boy, Ahmed, still breathing indeed, but so far gone that +every gasp seemed as if it must be his last. Hassan drew back the +covering from his face, and, in spite of himself, Herne shuddered; for +it was mutilated beyond recognition. The features were slashed to +ribbons. + +"Water, _effendi_!" Hassan's voice recalled him; and he turned aside to +procure it. + +It was little more than a tepid drain, but it acted like magic upon the +dying boy. There came a gasping whisper, and Hassan stooped to hear. + +When, a few minutes later, he stood up, Herne knew that the end had +come; knew, too, by the look in the Arab's eyes that they stood +themselves on the brink of that great gulf into which the boy's life had +but that instant slipped. + +"The Wandis have returned from a great slaughter," Hassan said. "Their +Prophet is with them, and they bring many captives. The lad wandered +into the bush, and was caught by a band of spies. They tortured him, and +let him go, _effendi_. Thus will they torture us if we go forward any +longer." He caught at the bridle of the nearest camel. "The lust of +blood is upon them," he said. "We will go back." + +"Not so," Herne said. "If we go back we die, for the water is almost +gone. We must press forward now. There will be water in the mountains." + +Hassan glanced at him sideways. He looked as if he were minded to defy +the mad Englishman, but Herne's revolver was yet in his hand, and he +thought better of it. Moreover, he knew, as did Herne, that their water +supply was not sufficient to take them back. So, without further +discussion, they pressed on until the heat compelled them to halt. + +It had seemed to Herne the previous night that he could never close his +eyes again, but now as he descended from his camel, an intense +drowsiness possessed him. For a while he strove against it, and managed +to keep it at bay; but the sight of Hassan, curled up and calmly +slumbering, soon served to bring home to him the futility of +watchfulness. The Arab was obviously resigned to his particular fate, +whatever that might be, and, since sleep had become a necessity to him, +it seemed useless to combat it. What, after all, could vigilance do for +him in that world of hostility? The odds were so strongly against him +that it had become almost a fight against the inevitable. And he was too +tired to keep it up. With a sigh, he suffered his limbs to relax and lay +as one dead. + + + + + +IV + + +HE awoke hours after with an inarticulate feeling that someone wanted +him, and started up to the sound of a rifle shot that pierced the +stillness like a crack of thunder. In a second he would have been upon +his feet, but, even as he sprang, something else that was very close at +hand sprang also, and hurled him backwards. He found himself fighting +desperately in the grip of an immense savage, fighting at a hopeless +disadvantage, with the man's knees crushing the breath out of his body, +and the man's hands locked upon his throat. + +He struggled fiercely for bare life, but he was powerless to loosen that +awful, merciless pressure. The barbaric face that glared into his own +wore a devilish grin, inexpressibly malignant. It danced before his +starting eyes like some hideous spectre seen in delirium, intermittent, +terrible, with blinding flashes of light breaking between. He felt as if +his head were bursting. The agony of suffocation possessed him to the +exclusion of all else. There came a sudden glaze in his brain that was +like the shattering of every faculty, and then, in a blood-red mist, his +understanding passed. + +It seemed to him when the light reeled back again that he had been +unconscious for a very long time. He awoke to excruciating pain, of +which he seemed to have been vaguely aware throughout, and found himself +bound hand and foot and slung across the back of a camel. He dangled +helplessly face downwards, racked by cramp and a fiery torment of thirst +more intolerable than anything he had ever known. + +Darkness had fallen, but he caught the gleam of torches, and he knew +that he was surrounded by a considerable body of men. The ground they +travelled was stony and ascended somewhat steeply. Herne swung about +like a bale of goods, torn by his bonds, flung this way and that, and +utterly unable to protect himself in any way, or to ease his position. + +He set his teeth to endure the torture, but it was so intense that he +presently fainted again, and only recovered consciousness when the +agonizing progress ceased. He opened his eyes, to find the camel that +had borne him kneeling, and he himself being bundled by two brawny +savages on to the ground. He fell like a log, and so was left. But, +bound though he was, the relief of lying motionless was such that he +presently recovered so far as to be able to look about him. + +He discovered that he was lying in what appeared to be a huge +amphitheatre of sand, surrounded by high cliffs, ragged and barren, and +strewn with boulders. Two great fires burned at several yards' distance, +and about these, a number of savages were congregated. From somewhere +behind came the trickle of water, and the sound goaded him to something +that was very nearly approaching madness. He dragged himself up on to +his knees. His thirst was suddenly unendurable. + +But the next instant he was flat on his face in the sand, struck down by +a blow on the back of the neck that momentarily stunned him. For a while +he lay prone, gritting the sand in his teeth; then again with the +strength of frenzy he struggled upwards. + +He had a glimpse of his guard standing over him, and recognized the +savage who had nearly strangled him, before a second crashing blow +brought him down. He lay still then, overwhelmed in darkness for a long, +long time. + +He scarcely knew when he was lifted at last and borne forward into the +great circle of light cast by one of the fires. He felt the glare upon +his eyeballs, but it conveyed nothing to him. Over by the farther fire +some festivity seemed to be in progress. He had a vague vision of +leaping, naked bodies, and the flash of knives. There was a good deal of +shouting also, and now and then a nightmare shriek. And then came the +torment of the fire, great heat enveloping him, thirst that was anguish. + +He turned upon his captors, but his mouth was too dry for speech. He +could only glare dumbly into their evil faces, and they glared back at +him in fiendish triumph. Nearer to the red glow they came, nearer yet. +He could hear the crackle of the licking flames. They danced giddily +before his eyes. + +Suddenly the arms that bore him swung back. He knew instinctively that +they were preparing to hurl him into the heart of the fire, and the +instinct of self-preservation rushed upon him, stabbing him to vivid +consciousness. With a gigantic effort he writhed himself free from their +hold. + +He fell headlong, but the strength of madness had entered into him. He +fought like a man possessed, straining at his bonds till they cracked +and burst, forcing from his parched throat sounds which in saner moments +he would not have recognized as human, struggling, tearing, raging, in +furious self-defence. + +He was hopelessly outmatched. The odds were such as no man in his senses +could have hoped to combat with anything approaching success. Almost +before his bonds began to loosen, his enemies were upon him again. They +hoisted him up, fighting like a maniac. They tightened his bonds +unconcernedly, and prepared for a second attempt. + +But, before it could be made, a fierce yell rang suddenly from the +cliffs above them, echoing weirdly through the savage pandemonium, +arresting, authoritative, piercingly insistent. + +What it portended Herne had not the vaguest notion, but its effect upon +the two Wandis who held him was instant and astounding. They dropped him +like a stone, and fled as if pursued by furies. + +As for Herne, he wriggled and writhed from the vicinity of the fire, +still working at his bonds, his one idea to reach the water that he knew +was running within a stone's throw of him. It was an agonizing progress, +but he felt no pain but that awful, consuming thirst, knew no fear but a +ghastly dread that he might fail to reach his goal. For a single +mouthful of water at that moment he would have bartered his very soul. + +His breathing came in great gasps. The sweat was running down his face. +His heart beat thickly, spasmodically. His senses were tottering. But he +clung tenaciously to the one idea. He could not die with his thirst +unquenched. If he crawled every inch of the way upon his stomach, he +would somehow reach the haven of his desire. + +There came the padding of feet upon the sand close to him, and he cursed +aloud and bitterly. It was death this time, of course. He shut his eyes +and lay motionless, waiting for it. He only hoped that it might be +swift; that the hellish torture he was suffering might be ended at a +blow. + +But no blow fell. Hands touched him, severed his bonds, dragged him +roughly up. Then, as he staggered, powerless for the moment to stand, an +arm, hard and fleshless as the arm of a skeleton, caught him and urged +him forward. Irresistibly impelled, he left the glare of the fire, and +stumbled into deep shadow. + +Ten seconds later he was on his knees by a natural basin of rock in +which clear water brimmed, plunged up to the elbows, and drinking as +only a man who has known the thirst of the desert can drink. + + + +V + + +He turned at last from that exquisite draught with the water running +down his face. His Arab dress hung about him in tatters. He was bruised +and bleeding in a dozen places. But the man's heart of him was alive +again and beating strongly. He was ready to sell his life as dearly as +he might. + +He looked round for the native who had brought him thither, but it +seemed to him that he was alone, shut away by a frowning pile of rock +from the great amphitheatre in which the Wandis were celebrating their +return from the slaughter of their enemies. The shouting and the +shrieking continued in ghastly tumult, but for the moment he seemed to +be safe. + +The moon was up, but the shadows were very deep. He seemed to be +standing in a hollow, with sheer rock on three sides of him. The water +gurgled away down a narrow channel, and fell into darkness. With +infinite caution he crept forward to peer round the jutting boulder that +divided him from his enemies. + +The next instant sharply he drew back. A man armed with a long, native +spear was standing in the entrance. + +He was still a prisoner, then; that much was certain. But his guard was +single-handed. He began to consider the possibility of overpowering him. +He had no weapon, but he was a practised wrestler; and they were so far +removed from the yelling crowd about the fire that a scuffle in that +dark corner was little likely to attract attention. + +It was fairly obvious to him why he had been rescued from the fire. +Doubtless his gigantic struggles had been observed by the onlooker, and +he was considered too good a man to burn. They would keep him for a +slave, possibly mutilate him first. + +Again, stealthily, he investigated the position round that corner of +rock. The man's back was turned towards him. He seemed to be watching +the doings of the distant tribesmen. Herne freed himself from his ragged +garment, and crept nearer. His enemy was of no great stature. In fact, +he was the smallest Wandi that he had yet seen. He questioned with +himself if he could be full grown. + +Now or never was his chance, though a slender one at that, even if he +escaped immediate detection. He gathered himself together, and sprang +upon his unsuspecting foe. + +He aimed at the native weapon, knowing the dexterity with which this +could be shortened and brought into action, but it was wrenched from him +before he could securely grasp it. + +The man wriggled round like an eel, and in a moment the point was at his +throat. Herne flung up a defending arm, and took it through his flesh. +He knew in an instant that he was outmatched. His previous struggles had +weakened him, and his adversary, if slight, had the activity of a +serpent. + +For a few breathless seconds they swayed and fought, then again Herne +was conscious of that deadly point piercing his shoulder. With a sharp +exclamation, he shifted his ground, trod on a loose stone, and sprawled +headlong backward. + +He fell heavily, so heavily that all the breath was knocked out of his +body, and he could only lie, gasping and helpless, expecting death. His +enemy was upon him instantly, and he marvelled at the man's strength. +Sinewy hands encompassed his wrists, forcing his arms above his head. In +the darkness he could not see his face, though it was close to his own, +so close that he could feel his breathing, quick and hard, and knew that +it had been no light matter to master him. + +He himself had wholly ceased to fight. He was bleeding freely from the +shoulder, and a dizzy sense of powerlessness held him passive, awaiting +his deathblow. + +But still his adversary stayed his hand. The iron grip showed no sign of +relaxing, and to Herne, lying at his mercy, there came a fierce +impatience at the man's delay. + +"Curse you!" he flung upwards from between his teeth. "Why can't you +strike and have done?" + +His brain had begun to reel. He was scarcely in full possession of his +senses, or he had not wasted his breath in curses upon a savage who was +little likely to understand them. But the moment he had spoken, he knew +in some subtle fashion that his words had not fallen on uncomprehending +ears. + +The hands that held him relaxed very gradually. The man above him seemed +to be listening. Herne had a fantastic feeling that he was waiting for +something further, waiting as it were to gather impetus to slay him. + +And then, how it happened he had no notion, suddenly he was aware of a +change, felt the danger that menaced him pass, knew a surging darkness +that he took for death; and as his failing senses slid away from him he +thought he heard a voice that spoke his name. + + + + +VI + +"BE still, _effendi_!" + +It was no more than a whisper, but it pierced Herne's understanding as a +burst of light through a rent curtain. + +He opened his eyes wide. + +"Hassan!" he said faintly. + +"I am here, _effendi._" Very cautiously came the answer, and in the +dimness a figure familiar to him stooped over Herne. + +Herne tried to raise himself and failed with a groan. It was as if a +red-hot knife had stabbed his shoulder. + +"What happened?" he said. + +"The _effendi_ is wounded," the Arab made answer. "We are the prisoners +of the Mullah. The Wandis would have slain us, but he saved us alive. +Doubtless they will mutilate us presently as they are mutilating the +rest." + +Herne set his teeth. + +"What is this Mullah like?" he asked, after a moment. + +"A man small of stature, _effendi_, but very fierce, with the visage of +a devil. The Wandis fear him greatly. When he looks upon them with anger +they flee." + +Herne's eyes were striving to pierce the gloom. + +"Where on earth are we?" he said. + +"It is the Mullah's dwelling-place, _effendi_, at the gate of the City +of Stones. None may enter or pass out without his knowledge. His slaves +brought me hither while the _effendi_ was lying insensible. He cut my +bonds that I might bandage the _effendi's_ shoulder." + +Again Herne sought to raise himself, and with difficulty succeeded. He +could make out but little of his surroundings in the gloom, but it +seemed to him that he was close to the spot where he had received his +wound, for the murmur of the spring was still in his ears, and in the +distance the yelling of the savages continued. But he was faint and +dizzy from pain and loss of blood, and his investigations did not carry +him very far. For a while he retained his consciousness, but presently +slipped into a stupor of exhaustion, through which all outside +influences soon failed to penetrate. + +He dreamed after a time that Betty Derwent and he were sailing alone +together on a stormy sea, striving eternally to reach an island where +the sun shone and the birds sang, and being for ever flung back again +into the howling waste of waters till, in agony of soul, they ceased to +strive. + +Then came the morning, all orange and gold, shining pitilessly down upon +him, and he awoke to the knowledge that Betty was far away, and he was +tossing alone on a sea that yet was no sea, but an endless desert of +sand. Intense physical pain dawned upon him at the same time, pain that +was anguish, thrilling through every nerve, so that he pleaded +feverishly for death, not knowing what he said. + +No voice answered him. No help came. He rocked on and on in torment +through the sandy desolation, seeing strange visions dissolve before his +eyes, hearing sounds to which his tortured brain could give no meaning. +In the end, he lost himself utterly in the mazes of delirum, and all +understanding ceased. + +Long, long afterwards he came back as it were from a great journey, and +knew that Hassan was waiting upon him, ministering to him, tending him +as if he had been a child. He was too weak for speech, almost too weak +to open his eyes, but the life was still beating in his veins. It was +the turn of the tide. + +Wearily he dragged himself back from the endless waste in which he had +wandered, back to sanity, back to the problems of life. Hassan smiled +upon him as a mother upon her infant, being not without cause for +self-congratulation on his own account. + +"The _effendi_ is better," he said. "He will sleep and live." + +And Herne slept, as a child sleeps, for many hours. + +He awoke towards sunset to hear sounds that made him marvel--the +cheerful clatter of a camp, the voices of men, the protests of camels. + +It took him back to that last evening he had spent in contact with +civilization, the evening he had finally set himself to conquer the +unknown, in answer to a voice that called. How much of that mission had +he accomplished, he asked himself? How far was he even yet from his +goal? + +He gazed with drawn brows at the narrow walls of the tent in which he +lay, and presently, a certain measure of strength returning to him, he +raised himself on his sound arm and looked about him. + +On the instant he perceived the faithful Hassan watching beside him. The +Arab beamed upon him as their eyes met. + +"All is well, _effendi_," he said. "By the mercy of Allah, we have +reached the Great Desert, and are even now in the company of El Azra, +the spice merchant. We shall travel with his caravan in safety." + +"But how on earth did we get here?" questioned Herne. + +Hassan was eager to explain. + +"We escaped by night from Wanda three days ago, the Prophet of the +Wandis himself assisting us. You were wounded, _effendi_, and without +understanding. The Prophet of the Wandis bore you on his camel. It was a +journey of many dangers, but Allah protected us, and guided us to this +oasis, sending also El Azra to our succour. It is a strong caravan, +_effendi_. We shall be safe with him." + +But here Herne suddenly broke in upon his complacence. + +"It was not my intention to leave Wanda," he said, "till I had done what +I went to do. I must go back." + +"_Effendi_!" + +"I must go back!" he reiterated with force. "Do you think, because I +have been beaten once, I will give up in despair? I should have thought +you would have known me better by now." + +"But, _effendi_, there is nothing to be gained by going back," Hassan +pleaded. "The man you seek is dead, and we are already fifty miles from +Wanda." + +"How do you know he is dead?" Herne demanded. + +"From the mouth of the Wandi Prophet himself, _effendi_. He asked me +whence you came and wherefore, and when I told him, he said, 'The man is +dead.'" + +"Is this Prophet still with us?" Herne asked. + +"Yes, _effendi_, he is here. But he speaks no tongue save his own. And +he is a terrible man, with the face of a devil." + +"Bring him to me!" Herne said. + +"He will come, _effendi_; but he will only speak of himself. He will not +answer questions." + +"Enough! Fetch him!" Herne ordered. "And you remain and interpret!" + +But when Hassan was gone, his weakness returned upon him, and the +bitterness of defeat made itself felt. Was this the end of his long +struggle, to be overwhelmed at last by the odds he had so bravely dared? +It was almost unthinkable. He could not reconcile himself to it. And yet +at the heart of him lurked the conviction that failure was to be his +portion. He had attempted the impossible. He had offered himself in +vain; and any further sacrifice could only end in the same way. If Bobby +Duncannon were indeed dead, his task was done; but he had felt so +assured that he still lived that he could not bring himself to expel the +belief. It was the lack of knowledge that he could not endure, the +thought of returning to the woman he loved empty-handed, of seeing once +more the soul-hunger in her eyes, and being unable to satisfy it. + +No, he could not face it. He would have to go back, even though it meant +to his destruction, unless this Mad Prophet could furnish him with proof +incontestable of young Duncannon's death. He glanced with impatience +towards the entrance. Why did the man delay? + +He supposed the fellow would want _backsheesh_, and that thought sent +him searching among his tattered clothing for his pocket-book. He found +it with relief; and then again physical weakness asserted itself, and he +leaned back with closed eyes. His shoulder was throbbing with a fiery +pain. He wondered if Hassan knew how to treat it. If not, things would +probably get serious. + +The buzzing of a multitude of flies distracted his thoughts from this, +and he began to long ardently for a smoke. He roused himself to hunt for +his cigarette-case; but he sought in vain and finally desisted with a +groan. + +It was at this point that the tent-flap was drawn aside, admitting for a +moment the marvellous orange glow of the sinking sun, and a man attired +as an Arab came noiselessly in. + + + + +VII + + +Herne lay quite still, regarding his visitor with critical eyes. + +The latter stood with his back to the western glow. His face was more +than half concealed by one end of his turban. He made no advance, but +stood like a brazen image, motionless, inscrutable, seeming scarcely +aware of the Englishman's presence. + +It was Herne who broke the silence. The light was failing very rapidly. +He raised his voice with a touch of impatience. + +"Hassan, where are you?" + +At that the stranger moved, as one coming out of a deep reverie. + +"There is no need to call your servant," he said, halting slightly over +the words. "I speak your language." + +Herne opened his eyes in surprise. He knew that many of the Wandis had +come in contact with Englishmen, but few of them could be said to have a +knowledge of the language. He saw at a glance that the man before him +was no ordinary Wandi warrior. His build was too insignificant, more +suggestive of the Arab than the negro. His hands were like the hands of +an Egyptian mummy, dark of hue and incredibly bony. He wished he could +see the fellow's face. Hassan's description had fired his curiosity. + +"So," he said, "you speak English, do you? I am glad to hear it. And you +are the Mullah of Wanda, the man who saved my life?" + +He received no reply whatever from the man in the doorway. It was as if +he had not spoken. + +Herne frowned. It seemed likely to be an unsatisfactory interview after +all. But just as he was about to launch upon a fresh attempt, the man +spoke, in a slow, deep voice that was not without a certain richness of +tone. + +"You came to Wanda--my prisoner," he said. "You left because I do not +kill white men, and they are not good slaves. But if you return to Wanda +you will die. Therefore be wise, and go back to your people, as I go to +mine!" + +Herne raised himself to a sitting position. His shoulder was beginning +to hurt him intolerably, but he strove desperately to keep it in the +background of his consciousness. + +"Why don't you kill white men?" he said. + +But the question was treated with a silence that felt contemptuous. + +The glow without was fading swiftly, and the darkness was creeping up +like a curtain over the desert. The weird figure standing upright +against the door-flap seemed to take on a deeper mystery, a silence more +unfathomable. + +Herne began to feel as if he were in a dream. If the man had not spoken +he would have wondered if his very presence were but hallucination. + +He gathered his wits for another effort. + +"Tell me," he said, "do you never use white men as slaves?" + +Still that uncompromising silence. + +Herne persevered. + +"Three years ago, before the Wandis conquered the Zambas, there was a +white man, an Englishman, who placed himself at their head, and taught +them to fight. I am here to seek him. I shall not leave without news of +him." + +"The Englishman is dead!" It was as if a mummy uttered the words. The +speaker neither stirred nor looked at Herne. He seemed to be gazing into +space. + +Herne waited for more, but none came. + +"I want proof of his death," he said, speaking very deliberately. "I +must know beyond all doubt when and how he died." + +"The Englishman was burned with the other captives," the slow, +indifferent voice went on. "He died in the fire!" + +"What?" said Herne, with violence. "You devil! I don't believe it! I +thought you did not kill white men!" + +"He was not as other white men," came the unmoved reply. "The Wandis +feared his magic. Fire alone can destroy magic. He died slowly but--he +died!" + +"You devil!" Herne said again. + +His hand was fumbling feverishly at his bandaged shoulder. He scarcely +knew what he was doing. In his impotent fury he sought only for freedom, +not caring how he obtained it. Never in the whole of his life had he +longed so overpoweringly to crush a man's throat between his hands. + +But his strength was unequal to the effort. He sank back, gasping, +half-fainting, yet struggling fiercely against his weakness. Suddenly he +was aware of the blood welling up to his injured shoulder. He knew in an +instant that the wound had burst out afresh; knew, too, that the bandage +would be of no avail to check the flow. + +"Fetch Hassan!" he jerked out. + +But the man before him made no movement to obey. + +"Are you going to stand by, you infernal fiend, and watch me die?" Herne +flung at him. + +A thick mist was beginning to obscure his vision, but it seemed to him +that those last words of his took effect. Undoubtedly the man moved, +came nearer, stooped over him. + +"Go!" Herne gasped. "Go!" + +He could feel the blood soaking through the bandage under his hand, +spreading farther every instant. + +This was to be the end, then, to lie at the mercy of this madman till +death came to blot out all his efforts, all his hopes. He made a last +feeble effort to stanch that deadly flow, failed, sank down exhausted. + +It was then that a voice came to him out of the gathering darkness, +quick and urgent, speaking to him, as it were, across the gulf of years: + +"Monty, Monty, lie still, man! I'll see to you!" + +That voice recalled Herne, renewed his failing faculties, galvanized him +into life. The man with the mummy's hands was bending over him, +stripping away the useless bandage, fashioning it anew for the moment's +emergency. In a few seconds he was working at it with pitiless strength, +twisting and twisting again till the tension told, and Herne forced back +a groan. + +But he clung to consciousness with all his quivering strength, +bewildered, unbelieving still, yet hovering on the edge of conviction. + +"Is it really you, Bobby?" he whispered. "I can't believe it! Let me +look at you! Let me see for myself!" + +The man beside him made no answer. He had snatched up the first thing he +could find, a fragment of a broken tent-peg, to tighten the pressure +upon the wound. + +But, as if in response to Herne's appeal, he freed one hand momentarily, +and pushed back the covering from his face. And in the dim light Herne +looked, looked closely; then shut his eyes and sank back with an +uncontrollable shudder. + +"Merciful Heaven!" he said. + + + +VIII + + +"Monty, I say! Monty!" + +Again the gulf of years was bridged; again the voice he knew came down +to him. Herne wrestled with himself, and opened his eyes. + +The man in Arab dress was still kneeling by his side, the skeleton hands +still supported him, but the face was veiled again. + +He suppressed another violent shudder. + +"In Heaven's name," he said, "what are you?" + +"I am a dead man," came the answer. "Don't move! I will call your man in +a moment, but I must speak to you first. Do you feel all right?" + +"Bobby!" Herne said. + +"No, I am not Bobby. He died, you know, ages ago. They cut him up and +burned him. Don't move. I have stopped the bleeding, but it will easily +start again. Lean back--so! You needn't look at me. You will never see +me again. But if I hadn't shown you--once, you would never have +understood. Are you comfortable? Can you listen?" + +"Bobby!" Herne said again. + +He seemed incapable of anything but that one word, spoken over and over, +as though trying to make himself believe the incredible. + +"I am not Bobby," the voice reiterated. "Put that out of your mind for +ever! He belonged to another life, another world. Don't you believe me? +Must I show you--again? Do you really want to talk with me face to +face?" + +"Yes," Herne said, with abrupt resolution. "I will see you--talk with +you--as you are." + +There was a brief pause, and he braced himself to face, without +blenching, the thing that a moment before, his soldier's training +notwithstanding, had turned him sick with horror. But he was spared the +ordeal. + +"There is no need," said the familiar voice. "You have seen enough. I +don't want to haunt you, even though I am dead. What put it into your +head to come in search of me? You must have known I should be long past +any help from you." + +"I--wanted to know," Herne said. He was feeling curiously helpless, as +if, in truth, he were talking with a mummy. All the questions he desired +to put remained unuttered. He was confronted with the impossible, and he +was powerless to deal with it. + +"What did you want to know? How I died? And when? It was a thousand +years ago, when those damned Wandis swallowed up the Zambas. They took +me first--by treachery. Then they wiped out the entire tribe. The poor +devils were lost without me. I always knew they would be--but they made +a gallant fight for it." A thrill of feeling crept into the monotonous +voice, a tinge of the old abounding pride, but it was gone on the +instant, as if it had not been. "They slaughtered them all in the end," +came in level, dispassionate tones, "and, last of all, they killed me. +It was a slow process, but very complete. I needn't harrow your +feelings. Only be quite sure I am dead! The thing that used to be my +body was turned into an abomination that no sane creature could look +upon without a shudder. And as for my soul, devils took possession, so +that even the Wandis were afraid. They dare not touch me now. I have +trampled them, I have tortured them, I have killed them. They fly from +me like sheep. Yet, if I lead, they follow. They think, because I have +conquered them, that I am invincible, invulnerable, immortal. They +cringe before me as if I were a god. They would offer me human sacrifice +if I would have it. I am their talisman, their mascot, their safeguard +from defeat, their luck--a dead man, Herne, a dead man! Can't you see +the joke? Why don't you laugh?" + +Again the grim voice thrilled as if some fiendish mirth stirred it to +life. + +Herne moved and groaned, but spoke no word. + +"What? You don't see it? You never had much sense of humour. And yet +it's a good thing to laugh when you can. We savages don't know how to +laugh. We only yell. That is all you wanted to know, is it? You will go +back now with an easy mind?" + +"As if that could be all!" Herne muttered. + +"That is all. And count yourself lucky that I haven't killed you. It was +touch and go that night you attacked me. You may die yet." + +"I may. But it won't be your fault if I do. Great Heaven, I might have +killed you!" + +"So you might." Again came that quiver of dreadful laughter. "That would +have been the end of the story for everyone, for you wouldn't have got +away without me. But that was no part of the program. Even you couldn't +kill a dead man. Feel that, if you don't believe me!" Suddenly one of +the shrivelled, mummy hands came down to his own. "How much life is +there in that?" + +Herne gripped the hand. It was cold and clammy; he could feel every +separate bone under the skin. He could almost hear them grind together +in his hold. He repressed another shudder; and even as he did it, he +heard again the bitter cry of a woman's wrung heart, "Bobby is still +alive and wanting me." + +Would she say that when she knew? Would she still reach out her hands to +this monstrous wreck of humanity, this shattered ruin of what had once +been a tower of splendid strength? Would she feel bound to offer +herself? Was her love sufficient to compass such a sacrifice? The bare +thought revolted him. + +"Are you satisfied?" asked the voice that seemed to him like a mocking +echo of Bobby's ardent tones. "Why don't you speak?" + +A great struggle was going on in Herne's soul. For Betty's sake--for +Betty's sake--should he hold his peace? Should he take upon himself a +responsibility that was not his? Should he deny this man the chance that +was his by right--the awful chance--of returning to her? The temptation +urged him strongly; the fight was fierce. But--was it because he still +grasped that bony hand?--he conquered in the end. + +"I haven't told you yet why I came to look for you," he said. + +"Is it worth while?" The question was peculiarly deliberate, yet not +wholly cynical. + +Desperately Herne compelled himself to answer. + +"You have got to know it, seeing it was not for my own +satisfaction--primarily--that I came." + +"Why then?" The brief query held scant interest; but the hand he still +grasped stirred ever so slightly in his. + +Herne set his teeth. + +"Because--someone--wanted you." + +"No one ever wanted me," said the Wandi Mullah curtly. + +But Herne had tackled his task, and he pursued it unflinching. + +"I came for the sake of a woman who once--long ago--refused to marry +you, but who has been waiting for you--ever since." + +"A woman?" Undoubtedly there was a savage note in the words. The +shrunken fingers clenched upon Herne's hand. + +"Betty Derwent," said Herne very quietly. + +Dead silence fell in the darkened tent--the silence of the desert, +subtle, intense, in a fashion terrible. It lasted for a long time; so +long a time that Herne suffered himself at last to relax, feeling the +strain to be more than he could bear. He leaned among his pillows, and +waited. Yet still, persistently, he grasped that cold, sinuous hand, +though the very touch of it repelled him, as the touch of a reptile +provokes instinctive loathing. It lay quite passive in his own, a thing +inanimate, yet horribly possessed of life. + +Slowly at last through the darkness a voice came: + +"Monty!" + +It was hardly more than a whisper; yet on the instant, as if by magic, +all Herne's repulsion, his involuntary, irrepressible shrinking, was +gone. He was back once more on the other side of the gulf, and the hand +he held was the hand of a friend. + +"My dear old chap!" he said very gently. + +Vaguely he discerned the figure by his side. It sat huddled, mummy-like +but it held no horrors for him any longer. They were not face to face +in that moment--they were soul to soul. + +"I say--Monty," stumblingly came the words, "you know--I never dreamed +of this. I thought she would have married--long ago. And she has been +waiting--all these years?" + +"All these years," Herne said. + +"Do you think she has suffered?" There was a certain sharpness in the +question, as if it were hard to utter. + +And Herne, pledged to honesty, made brief reply: + +"Yes." + +There followed a pause; then: + +"Will it grieve her--very badly--to know that I am dead?" asked the +voice beside him. + +"Yes, it will grieve her." Herne spoke as if compelled. + +"But she will get over it, eh?" + +"I believe so." Herne's lips were dry; he forced them to utterance. + +The free hand fastened claw-like upon his arm. + +"You'll tell me the straight truth, man," said Bobby's voice in his ear. +"What if I--came to life?" + +But Herne was silent. He could not bring himself to answer. + +"Speak out!" urged the voice--Bobby's voice, quick, insistent, even +imploring. "Don't be afraid! I haven't any feelings left worth +considering. She wouldn't get over that, you think? No woman could!" + +Herne turned in desperation, and faced his questioner. + +"God knows!" he said helplessly. + +Again there fell a silence, such a silence as falls in a death-chamber +at the moment of the spirit's passing. The darkness was deepening. Herne +could scarcely discern the figure by his side. + +The hand upon his arm had grown slack. All vitality seemed to have gone +out of it. It was as though the spirit had passed indeed. And in the +stillness Herne knew that he was recrossing the gulf, that his +friend--the boy he had known and loved--was receding rapidly, rapidly +behind the veil of years, would soon be lost to him for ever. + +The voice that spoke to him at length was the voice of a stranger. + +"Remember," it said, "Bobby Duncannon is dead--has been dead for years! +Let no woman waste her life waiting for him, for he will never return! +Let her marry instead the man who wants her, and put the empty years +behind! In no other way will she find happiness." + +"But you?" Herne groaned. "You?" + +The hand he held had slipped from his grasp. Through the dimness he saw +the man beside him rise to his feet. A moment he stood; then flung up +his arms above his head in a fierce gesture of renunciation that sent a +stab of recollection through Herne. + +"I! I go to my people!" said the Prophet of the Wandis. "And you--will +go to yours." + +It was final, and Herne knew it; yet his heart cried out within him for +the friend he had lost. Suddenly he found he could not bear it. + +"Bobby! Bobby!" he burst forth impulsively. "Stop, man, stop and think! +There must be some other way. You can't--you shan't--go back!" + +He hardly knew what he said, so great was his distress. The gulf was +widening, widening, and he was powerless. He knew that it could never be +bridged again. + +"It's too big a forfeit," he urged very earnestly. "You can't do it. I +won't suffer it. For Betty's sake--Bobby, come back!" + +And then, for the last time, he heard his friend's voice across the +ever-widening gulf. + +"For Betty's sake, old chap, I am a dead man. Remember that! It's you +who must go back to her. Marry her, love her, make her--forget!" + +For an instant those mummy hands rested upon him, held him, caressed +him; it was almost as if they blessed him. For an instant the veil was +lifted; they were comrades together. Then it fell.... + +There came a quiet movement, the sound of departing feet. + +Herne turned and blindly searched the darkness. Across the gulf he cried +to his friend to return to him. + +"Bobby, come back, lad, come back! We'll find some other way." + +But there came no voice in answer, no sound of any sort. The desert had +received back its secret. He was alone.... + + + +IX + + +"Now, don't bother any more about me!" commanded Betty Derwent, +establishing herself with an air of finality on the edge of the trout +stream to which she had just suffered herself to be conducted by her +companion. "I am quite capable of baiting my own hook if necessary. You +run along up-stream and have some sport on your own account!" + +The companion, a very young college man, looked decidedly blank over +this kindly dismissal. He had been manoeuvring to get Betty all to +himself for days, but, since everybody seemed to want her, it had been +no easy matter. And now, to his disgust, just as he was congratulating +himself upon having gained his end and secured a _tete-a-tete_ that, +with luck, might last for hours, he was coolly told to run along and +amuse himself while she fished in solitude. + +"I say, you know," he protested, "that's rather hard lines." + +"Don't be absurd!" said Betty. "I came out to catch fish, not to talk. +And you are going to do the same." + +"Oh, confound the fish!" said the luckless one. + +Nevertheless, he yielded, seeing that it was expected of him, and took +himself off, albeit reluctantly. + +Betty watched him go, with a faint smile. He was a nice boy undoubtedly, +but she much preferred him at a distance. + +She sat down on the bank above the trout-stream, and took a letter from +her pocket. It had reached her the previous day, and she had already +read it many times. This fact, however, did not deter her from reading +it yet again, her chin upon her hand. It was not a lengthy epistle. + + "DEAR BETTY," it said, "I am back from my wanderings, and I + am coming straight to you; but I want you to get this letter + first, in time to stop me, if you feel so inclined. It is + useless for me to attempt to soften what I have to say. I + can only put it briefly, just because I know--too well--what + it will mean to you. Betty, the boy is dead, has been dead + for years. How he died and exactly when, I do not know; but + I have certified the fact of his death beyond all question. + He died at the hands of the Wandis, when his own men, the + Zambas, were defeated. So much I heard from the Wandi Mullah + himself, and more than that I cannot tell you. My dear, that + is the end of your romance, and I know that you will never + weave another. But, that notwithstanding, I am coming--now, + if you will have me--later, if you desire it--to claim you + for myself. Your happiness always has and always will come + first with me, and neither now nor hereafter shall I ever + ask of you more than you are disposed to give.--Ever yours," + + "MONTAGUE HERNE." + +Very slowly Betty's eyes travelled over the paper. She read right to the +end, and then suffered her eyes to rest for a long time upon the +signature. Her fishing-rod lay forgotten on the ground beside her. She +seemed to be thinking deeply. + +Once, rather suddenly, she moved to look at the watch on her wrist. It +was drawing towards noon. She had sent no message to delay him. Would he +have travelled by the night train? But she dismissed that conjecture as +unlikely. Herne was not a man to do anything headlong. He would give her +ample time. She almost wished--she checked the sigh that rose to her +lips. No, it was better as it was. A man's ardour was different from a +boy's; and she--she was a girl no longer. Her romance was dead. + +A slight sound beside her, a footstep on the grass! She turned, looked, +sprang to her feet. The vivid colour rushed up over her face. + +"You!" she gasped, almost inarticulately. + +He had come by the night train after all. + +He came up to her quite quietly, with that leisureliness of gait that +she remembered so well. + +"Didn't you expect me?" he said. + +She held out a hand that trembled. + +"Yes, I--I knew you would come; only, you see, I hardly thought you +would get here so soon." + +"But you meant me to come?" he said. + +His hand held hers closely, warmly, reassuringly. He looked into her +face. + +For a few seconds she evaded the look with a shyness beyond her control; +then resolutely she mastered herself and met his eyes. + +"Yes, I meant you to come. I am glad you are back. I--" She broke off +suddenly, gazing at him in consternation. "Monty," she exclaimed, "you +never told me you had been ill!" + +He smiled at that, and her agitation began to subside. + +"I am well again, Betty," he said. + +"Oh, but you don't look it," she protested. "You look--you look as if +you had suffered--horribly. Have you?" + +He passed the question by. "At least, I have managed to come back +again," he said, "as I promised." + +"I--I am thankful to see you again," she faltered her shyness returning +upon her. "I've been--desperately anxious." + +"On my account?" said Herne. + +She bent her head. "Yes." + +"Lest I shouldn't come back?" + +"Yes," she said again. + +"But I told you I should," He was still holding her hand, trying to read +her downcast face. + +"Oh, I knew you would if you could," said Betty. "Only--I couldn't help +thinking--of what you said about--about sacrificing substance +to--shadow. It--was very wrong of me to send you." + +She spoke unevenly, with obvious effort. She seemed determined that he +should not have that glimpse into her soul which he so evidently +desired. + +"My dear Betty," he said, "I went on my own account as much as on yours. +I think you forget that. Or are you remembering--and regretting--it?" + +She had begun to tremble. He laid a steadying hand upon her shoulder. + +"No," she said faintly. Then swiftly, impulsively, she raised her face. +"Major Herne, I--I want to tell you something--before you say any more." + +"What is it, Betty?" he said. + +"Just this," she made answer, speaking very quickly. "I--I am not good +enough for you. I haven't been--straight with you. I've been realizing +it more and more ever since you went away. I--I'm quite despicable. I've +been miserable about it--wretched--all the time you have been away." + +Herne's face changed. A certain grimness came into it. + +"But, my dear girl," he said, "you never pretended to be in love with +me." + +She drew a sharp breath of distress. + +"I know," she said. "I know. And I let you go to that dreadful place, +though I knew--before you went--that, whatever happened, it could make +no difference to me. But I hadn't the courage to tell you the truth. +After what passed between us that night, I felt--I couldn't. And so--and +so--I let you go, even though I knew I was deceiving you. Oh, do forgive +me if you can! I've had my punishment. I have been nearly mad with +anxiety lest any harm should come to you." + +"I suppose I ought to be grateful for that," Herne said. He still looked +grim, but there was no anger about him. He had taken his hand from her +shoulder, but he still held her trembling fingers in his quiet grasp. +"Don't fret!" he said. "Where's the use? I shall get over it somehow. If +you are quite sure you know your own mind, there is no more to be said." +He spoke with no shadow of emotion. His eyes looked into hers with +absolute steadiness. He even, after a moment, very faintly smiled. +"Except good-bye!" he said. "And perhaps the sooner I say that the +better." + +But at this point Betty broke in upon him breathlessly, almost +incoherently. + +"Major Herne, I--I don't understand. You--you can say good-bye, of +course--if you wish. But--it will be by your own choice if you do." + +"What?" he said. + +She snatched her hand suddenly from him. + +"I suppose you mean to punish me, to make me pay for my--idiocy. +You--you think--" + +"I think that either you or I must be mad," said Herne. + +"Then it's you!" flung back Betty half hysterically. "To imagine for one +moment that I--that I meant--that!" + +"Meant what?" A sudden note of sternness made itself heard in Herne's +voice. He moved a step forward, and took her shoulders between his +hands, looking at her closely, unsparingly. "Betty," he said, "let us at +least understand one another! Tell me what you meant just now!" + +She faced him defiantly + +"I didn't mean anything." + +He passed that by. + +"Why did you ask my forgiveness?" + +She made a sharp gesture of repudiation. + +"What was there to forgive?" he insisted. + +"I--I am not going to tell you," said Betty, with great distinctness. + +Again he overlooked her open defiance. + +"You are afraid. Why?" + +"I'm not!" said Betty almost fiercely. + +"You are afraid," he repeated deliberately, "afraid of my finding +out--something. Betty, look at me!" + +Her face was scarlet. She turned it swiftly from him. + +"Let me go!" + +"Look at me!" he repeated. + +She began to pant. She was quivering between his hands like a wild thing +caught. "Major Herne, it isn't fair of you! Let me go!" + +"Never, Betty!" He spoke with sudden decision; but all the grimness had +gone from his face. "You may as well give in, for I have you at my +mercy. And I will be merciful if you do, but not otherwise." + +"How dare you?" gasped Betty almost inarticulately. + +"I dare do many things," said Montague Herne, with a smile that was not +all mirthful. "How long have you left off crying for the moon? Tell me!" + +"I won't tell you anything!" protested Betty. + +"Yes, you will. I have got to know it. If you will only give in like a +wise woman, you will find it much easier." + +His voice held persuasion this time. For a little she made as if she +would continue to resist him; then impulsively she yielded. + +"Oh, Monty!" she said, with a sob; and the next moment was in his arms. + +He held her close. + +"Come!" he said. "You can tell me now." + +"I--don't know," whispered Betty, her face hidden. "You--frightened me +by being so ready to go away again. I couldn't help wondering if it had +been just kindness that prompted you to come to me. It--I suppose it +wasn't?" A startled note of interrogation sounded in her voice. She was +trembling still. + +"Betty, Betty!" he said. + +"Forgive me!" she whispered back, "You see, I couldn't have endured +that, because I--love you. No, wait; I haven't finished. I want you to +know the truth. I've been sacrificing substance to shadow, reality to +dreams, all my life--all my life. But that night--the night I took you +into my confidence--you opened my eyes. I began to see what I was doing. +But I hadn't the courage to tell you so, and it seemed not quite fair to +Bobby so I held my peace. + +"I let you go. But I knew--I knew before you went--that even if you +found him, even if you brought him back, even if he cared for me still, +I should have nothing to give him. My feeling for him was just a dream +from which I had awakened. Oh, Monty, I was yours even then; and I kept +it back. That was why I wanted your forgiveness." + +Breathlessly she ended, and in silence he heard her out. He was holding +her very closely to him, but his eyes looked beyond her, as though they +searched a far horizon. + +"Do you understand?" whispered Betty at last. + +He moved, and the look in his eyes changed. It was as if the horizon +narrowed. + +"I understand," he said. + +She lifted her face, with a gesture half shy, half confiding. + +"Are you going to forgive me, Monty? I--I've paid a big price for my +foolishness--bigger than you will ever know. I kept asking +myself--asking myself--whatever I should do if you--if you brought him +back." + +"Poor child!" he said. "Poor little Betty!" + +She clung to him suddenly. + +"Oh, wasn't I an idiot? And yet, somehow, I feel so treacherous. +Monty--Monty, you're sure he is dead?" + +"Yes, he is dead," said Herne deliberately. + +She drew a deep breath. + +"I'm so thankful he never knew!" she said. "I--I don't suppose he really +cared, do you? Not enough to spoil his life?" + +"God knows!" said Montague Herne very gravely. + + * * * * * + +"Hullo!" said Betty's fellow-sportsman, making his appearance some time +later. "Getting on for grub-time, eh? How have you got on? Why, I +thought you came out to fish, and not to talk! Who on earth----" + +"My _fiance_," said Betty quickly. + +"Your--Hullo! Why, it's Major Herne! Delighted to see you! Had no idea +you were in this country. Thought you were hunting big game somewhere in +Africa." + +"I was," said Herne. "I--had no luck. So I came home." + +"Where--presumably--you found it! Congratulations! Betty, I'm pleased!" + +"How nice of you!" said Betty. + +"Yes, it is rather, all things considered. How ever, I suppose even I +must regard it as a blessing in disguise. Perhaps, when you are +married, you will kindly leave off breaking all our hearts for nothing!" + +"Perhaps you will leave off being so foolish as to let them be broken," +returned Betty, with spirit. + +"Ah, perhaps! Not very likely though I fear. Hearts are tender +things--eh, Major Herne? And when someone like Betty comes along there +is sure to be some damage done. It's the penalty we have to pay for +being only human." + +"Ah, well, you soon get over it," said Betty quickly. + +"How do you know that? I may perhaps, if I'm lucky; but there are +exceptions to every rule. Some of us go on paying the penalty all our +lives." + +A moment's silence followed the light words. Betty apparently had +nothing to say. + +And then: "And some of us don't even know the meaning of the word!" said +Montague Herne. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSA MUNDI AND OTHER STORIES*** + + +******* This file should be named 13774.txt or 13774.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/7/7/13774 + + + +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. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: +https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/old/13774.zip b/old/13774.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7bb8357 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13774.zip |
