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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Swindler 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: The Swindler and Other Stories
+
+
+Author: Ethel M. Dell
+
+
+
+Release Date: June 21, 2006  [eBook #18644]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWINDLER AND OTHER STORIES***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/)
+
+
+
+THE SWINDLER AND OTHER STORIES
+
+by
+
+ETHEL M. DELL
+
+Author of the Hundredth Chance, Etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Grosset & Dunlap Publishers New York
+Made in the United States of America
+
+This edition is issued under arrangement with the publishers
+G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York and London
+The Knickerbocker Press, New York
+
+The stories contained in this volume were originally published in the
+_Red Magazine_.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+The Swindler
+
+The Swindler's Handicap
+
+The Nonentity
+
+Her Hero
+
+The Example
+
+The Friend who Stood By
+
+The Right Man
+
+The Knight-Errant
+
+A Question of Trust
+
+Where the Heart Is
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                             The Swindler
+
+
+"When you come to reflect that there are only a few planks between you
+and the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, it makes you feel sort of
+pensive."
+
+"I beg your pardon?"
+
+The stranger, smoking his cigarette in the lee of the deck-cabins,
+turned his head sharply in the direction of the voice. He encountered
+the wide, unembarrassed gaze of a girl's grey eyes. She had evidently
+just come up on deck.
+
+"I beg yours," she rejoined composedly. "I thought at first you were
+some one else."
+
+He shrugged his shoulders, and turned away. Quite obviously he was not
+disposed to be sociable upon so slender an introduction.
+
+The girl, however, made no move to retreat. She stood thoughtfully
+tapping on the boards with the point of her shoe.
+
+"Were you playing cards last night down in the saloon?" she asked
+presently.
+
+"I was looking on."
+
+He threw the words over his shoulder, not troubling to turn.
+
+The girl shivered. The morning air was damp and chill.
+
+"You do a good deal of that, Mr.--Mr.--" She paused suggestively.
+
+But the man would not fill in the blank. He smoked on in silence.
+
+The vessel was rolling somewhat heavily, and the splash of the drifting
+foam reached them occasionally where they stood. There were no other
+ladies in sight. Suddenly the clear, American voice broke through the
+man's barrier of silence.
+
+"I know quite well what you are, you know. You may just as well tell me
+your name as leave me to find it out for myself."
+
+He looked at her then for the first time, keenly, even critically. His
+clean-shaven mouth wore a very curious expression.
+
+"My name is West," he said, after a moment.
+
+She nodded briskly.
+
+"Your professional name, I suppose. You are a professional, of course?"
+
+His eyes continued to watch her narrowly. They were blue eyes,
+piercingly, icily blue.
+
+"Why 'of course,' if one may ask?"
+
+She laughed a light, sweet laugh, inexpressibly gay. Cynthia Mortimer
+could be charmingly inconsequent when she chose.
+
+"I don't think you are a bit clever, you know," she said. "I knew what
+you were directly I saw you standing by the gangway watching the people
+coming on board. You looked really professional then, just as if you
+didn't care a red cent whether you caught your man or not. I knew you
+did care though, and I was ready to dance when I knew you hadn't got
+him. Think you'll track him down on our side?"
+
+West turned his eyes once more upon the heaving, grey water, carelessly
+flicking the ash from his cigarette.
+
+"I don't think," he said briefly. "I know."
+
+"You--know?" The wide eyes opened wider, but they gathered no
+information from the unresponsive profile that smoked the cigarette.
+"You know where Mr. Nat Verney is?" she breathed, almost in a whisper.
+"You don't say! Then--then you weren't really watching out for him at
+the gangway?"
+
+He jerked up his head with an enigmatical laugh.
+
+"My methods are not so simple as that," he said.
+
+Cynthia joined quite generously in his laugh, notwithstanding its hard
+note of ridicule. She had become keenly interested in this man, in spite
+of--possibly in consequence of--the rebuffs he so unsparingly
+administered. She was not accustomed to rebuffs, this girl with her
+delicate, flower-like beauty. They held for her something of the charm
+of novelty, and abashed her not at all.
+
+"And you really think you'll catch him?" she questioned, a note of
+honest regret in her voice.
+
+"Don't you want him to be caught?"
+
+He pitched his cigarette overboard and turned to her with less of
+churlishness in his bearing.
+
+She met his eyes quite frankly.
+
+"I should just love him to get away," she declared, with kindling eyes.
+"Oh, I know he's a regular sharper, and he's swindled heaps of
+people--I'm one of them, so I know a little about it. He swindled me out
+of five hundred dollars, and I can tell you I was mad at first. But now
+that he is flying from justice, I'm game enough to want him to get away.
+I suppose my sympathies generally lie with the hare, Mr. West. I'm sorry
+if it annoys you, but I was created that way."
+
+West was frowning, but he smiled with some cynicism over her last
+remarks.
+
+"Besides," she continued, "I couldn't help admiring him. He has a
+regular genius for swindling--that man. You'll agree with me there?"
+
+A sudden heavy roll of the vessel pitched her forward before he could
+reply. He caught her round the waist, saving her from a headlong fall,
+and she clung to him, laughing like a child at the mishap.
+
+"I think I'll have to go below," she decided regretfully. "But you've
+been good to me, and I'm glad I spoke. I've always been somewhat
+prejudiced against detectives till to-day. My cousin Archie--you saw him
+in the cardroom last night--vowed you were nothing half so interesting.
+Why is it, I wonder, that detectives always look like journalists?" She
+looked at him with eyes of friendly criticism. "You didn't deceive me,
+you see. But then"--ingenuously--"I'm clever in some ways, much more
+clever than you'd think. Now you won't cut me next time we meet, will
+you? Because--perhaps--I'm going to ask you to do something for me."
+
+"What do you want me to do?"
+
+The man's voice was hard, his eyes cold as steel, but his question had
+in it a shade--just a shade--of something warmer than mere curiosity.
+
+She took him into her confidence without an instant's hesitation.
+
+"My cousin Archie--you may have noticed--you were looking on last
+night--he's a very careless player, and headstrong too. But he can't
+afford to lose any, and I don't want him to come to grief. You see, I'm
+rather fond of him."
+
+"Well?"
+
+The man's brows were drawn down over his eyes. His expression was not
+encouraging.
+
+"Well," she proceeded, undismayed, "I saw you looking on, and you looked
+as if you knew a few things. So I thought you'd be a safe person to ask.
+I can't look after him; and his mother--well, she's worse than useless.
+But a man--a real strong man like you--is different. If I were to
+introduce you, couldn't you look after him a bit--just till we get
+across?"
+
+With much simplicity she made her request, but there was a tinge of
+anxiety in her eyes. Certainly West, staring steadily forth over the
+grey waste of tumbling waters, looked sufficiently forbidding.
+
+After several seconds of silence he flung an abrupt question:
+
+"Why don't you ask some one else?"
+
+"There is no one else," she answered.
+
+"No one else?" He made a gesture of impatient incredulity.
+
+"No one that I can trust," she explained.
+
+"And you trust me?"
+
+"Of course I do."
+
+"Why?" Again he looked at her with a piercing scrutiny. His eyes held a
+savage, almost a threatening expression.
+
+But the girl only laughed, lightly and confidently.
+
+"Why? Oh, just because you are trustworthy, I guess. I can't think of
+any other reason."
+
+West's look relaxed, became abstracted, and finally fell away from her.
+
+"You appear to be a lady of some discernment," he observed drily.
+
+She proffered her hand impulsively, her eyes dancing.
+
+"My, that's the first pretty thing you've said to me!" she declared
+flippantly. "I just like you, Mr. West!"
+
+West was feeling for his cigarette case. He gave her his hand without
+looking at her, as if her approbation did not greatly gratify him. When
+she was gone he moved away along the wind-swept deck with his collar up
+to his ears and his head bent to the gale. His conversation with the
+American girl had not apparently made him feel any more sociably
+inclined towards his fellow-passengers.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Certainly, as Cynthia had declared, young Archibald Bathurst was an
+exceedingly reckless player. He lacked the judgment and the cool brain
+essential to a good cardplayer, with the result that he lost much more
+often than he won. But notwithstanding this fact he had a passion for
+cards which no amount of defeat could abate--a passion which he never
+failed to indulge whenever an opportunity presented itself.
+
+At the very moment when his cousin was making her petition on his behalf
+to the surly Englishman on deck, he was seated in the saloon with three
+or four men older than himself, playing and losing, playing and losing,
+with almost unvarying monotony, yet with a feverish relish that had in
+it something tragic.
+
+He was only three-and-twenty, and, as he was wont to remark, ill-luck
+dogged him persistently at every turn. He never blamed himself when rash
+speculations failed, and he never profited by bitter experience. Simply,
+he was by nature a spendthrift, high-spirited, impulsive, weak, with
+little thought for the future and none at all for the past. Wherever he
+went he was popular. His gaiety and spontaneity won him favour. But no
+one took him very seriously. No one ever dreamed that his ill-luck was a
+cause for anything but mirth.
+
+A good deal of money had changed hands when the party separated to dine,
+but, though young Bathurst was as usual a loser, he displayed no
+depression. Only, as he sauntered away to his cabin, he flung a laughing
+challenge to those who remained:
+
+"See if I don't turn the tables presently!"
+
+They laughed with him, pursuing him with chaff till he was out of
+hearing. The boy was a game youngster, and he knew how to lose.
+Moreover, it was generally believed that he could afford to pay for his
+pleasures.
+
+But a man who met him suddenly outside his cabin read something other
+than indifference upon his flushed face. He only saw him for an instant.
+The next, Archie had swung past and was gone, a clanging door shutting
+him from sight.
+
+When the little knot of cardplayers reassembled after dinner their
+number was augmented. A short, broad-shouldered man, clean-shaven, with
+piercing blue eyes, had scraped acquaintance with one of them, and had
+accepted an invitation to join the play. Some surprise was felt among
+the rest, for this man had till then been disposed to hold aloof from
+his fellow-passengers, preferring a solitary cigarette to any amusements
+that might be going forward.
+
+A New York man named Rudd muttered to his neighbour that the fellow
+might be all right, but he had the eyes of a sharper. The neighbour in
+response murmured the words "private detective" and Rudd was relieved.
+
+Archie Bathurst was the last to arrive, and dropped into the place he
+had occupied all the afternoon. It was immediately facing the stranger,
+whom he favoured with a brief and somewhat disparaging stare before
+settling down to play.
+
+The game was a pure gamble. They played swiftly, and in silence. West
+seemed to take but slight interest in the issue, but he won steadily and
+surely. Young Bathurst, playing feverishly, lost and lost, and lost
+again. The fortunes of the other four players varied. But always the
+newcomer won his ventures.
+
+The evening was half over when Archie suddenly and loudly demanded
+higher stakes, to turn his luck, as he expressed it.
+
+"Double them if you like," said West.
+
+Rudd looked at him with a distrustful eye, and said nothing. The other
+players were disposed to accede to the boy's vehement request, and after
+a little discussion the matter was settled to his satisfaction. The game
+was resumed at higher points.
+
+Some onlookers had drawn round the table scenting excitement. Archie,
+sitting with his back to the wall, was playing with headlong
+recklessness. For a while he continued to lose, and then suddenly and
+most unexpectedly he began to win. A most rash speculation resulted in
+his favour, and from that moment it seemed that his luck had turned.
+Once or twice he lost, but these occasions were far outbalanced by
+several brilliant _coups_. The tide had turned at last in his favour.
+
+He played as a man possessed, swiftly and feverishly. It seemed that he
+and West were to divide the honours. For West's luck scarcely varied,
+and Rudd continued to look at him askance.
+
+For the greater part of an hour young Bathurst won with scarcely a
+break, till the spectators began to chaff him upon his outrageous
+success.
+
+"You'd better stop," one man warned him. "She's a fickle jade, you know,
+Bathurst. Take too much for granted, and she'll desert you."
+
+But Bathurst did not even seem to hear. He played with lowered eyes and
+twitching mouth, and his hands shook perceptibly. The gambler's lust was
+upon him.
+
+"He'll go on all night," murmured the onlookers.
+
+But this prophecy was not to be fulfilled.
+
+It was a very small thing that stemmed the racing current of the boy's
+success--no more than a slight click audible only to a few, and the
+tinkle of something falling--but in an instant, swift as a thunderbolt,
+the wings of tragedy swept down upon the little party gathered about the
+table.
+
+Young Bathurst uttered a queer, half-choked exclamation, and dived
+downwards. But the man next to him, an Englishman named Norton, dived
+also, and it was he who, after a moment, righted himself with something
+shining in his hand which he proceeded grimly to display to the whole
+assembled company. It was a small, folding mirror--little more than a
+toy, it looked--with a pin attached to its leathern back.
+
+Deliberately Norton turned it over, examining it in such a way that
+others might examine it too. Then, having concluded his investigation of
+this very simple contrivance, he slapped it down upon the table with a
+gesture of unutterable contempt.
+
+"The secret of success," he observed.
+
+Every one present looked at Archie, who had sunk back in his chair white
+to the lips. He seemed to be trying to say something, but nothing came
+of it.
+
+And then, quite calmly, ending a silence more terrible than any tumult
+of words, another voice made itself heard.
+
+"Even so, Mr. Norton." West bent forward and with the utmost composure
+possessed himself of the shining thing upon the table. "This is my
+property. I have been rooking you fellows all the evening."
+
+The avowal was so astounding and made with such complete _sang-froid_
+that no one uttered a word. Only every one turned from Archie to stare
+at the man who thus serenely claimed his own.
+
+He proceeded with unvarying coolness to explain himself.
+
+"It was really done as an experiment," he said. "I am not a card-sharper
+by profession, as some of you already know. But in the course of certain
+investigations not connected with the matter I now have in hand, I
+picked this thing up, and, being something of a specialist in certain
+forms of cheating, I made up my mind to try my hand at this and prove
+for myself its extreme simplicity. You see how easy it is to swindle,
+gentlemen, and the danger to which you expose yourselves. There is no
+necessity for me to explain the trick further. The instrument speaks for
+itself. It is merely a matter of dexterity, and keeping it out of
+sight."
+
+He held it up a second time before his amazed audience, twisted it this
+way and that, with the air of a conjurer displaying his smartest trick,
+attached it finally to the lapel of his coat, and rose.
+
+"As a practical demonstration it seems to have acted very well," he
+remarked. "And no harm done. If you are all satisfied, so am I."
+
+He collected the notes at his elbow with a single careless sweep of the
+hand, and tossed them into the middle of the table; then, with a brief,
+collective bow, he turned to go. But Rudd, the first to recover from his
+amazement, sprang impetuously to his feet. "One moment, sir!" he said.
+
+West stopped at once, a cold glint of humour in his eyes. Without a sign
+of perturbation he faced round, meeting the American's hostile scrutiny
+calmly, judicially.
+
+"I wish to say," said Rudd, "on behalf of myself, and--I think I may
+take it--on behalf of these other gentlemen also, that your action was a
+most dastardly piece of impertinence, to give it its tamest name.
+Naturally, we don't expect Court manners from one of your profession,
+but we do look for ordinary common honesty. But it seems that we look in
+vain. You have behaved like a mighty fine skunk, sir. And if you don't
+see that there's any crying need for a very humble apology, you've got
+about the thickest hide that ever frayed a horsewhip."
+
+Every one was standing by the time this elaborate threat was uttered,
+and it was quite obvious that Rudd voiced the general opinion. The only
+one whose face expressed no indignation was Archie Bathurst. He was
+leaning against the wall, mopping his forehead with a shaking hand.
+
+No one looked at him. All attention was centred upon West, who met it
+with a calm serenity suggestive of contempt. He showed himself in no
+hurry to respond to Rudd's indictment, and when he did it was not
+exclusively to Rudd that he spoke.
+
+"I am sorry," he coolly said, "that you consider yourselves aggrieved by
+my experiment. I do not myself see in what way I have injured you.
+However, perhaps you are the best judges of that. If you consider an
+apology due to you, I am quite ready to apologise."
+
+His glance rested for a second upon Archie, then slowly swept the entire
+assembly. There was scant humility about him, apologise though he might.
+
+Rudd returned his look with open disgust. But it was Norton who replied
+to West's calm defence of himself.
+
+"It is Bathurst who is the greatest loser," he said, with a glance at
+that young man, who was beginning to recover from his agitation. "It was
+a tom-fool trick to play, but it's done. You won't get another
+opportunity for your experiments on board this boat. So--if Bathurst is
+satisfied--I should say the sooner you apologise and clear out the
+better."
+
+"We will confiscate this, anyway," declared Rudd, plucking the mirror
+from West's coat.
+
+He flung it down, and ground his heel upon it with venomous intention.
+West merely shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I apologise," he said briefly, "singly and collectively, to all
+concerned in my experiment, especially"--he made a slight pause--"to Mr.
+Bathurst, whose run of luck I deeply regret to have curtailed. If Mr.
+Bathurst is satisfied, I will now withdraw."
+
+He paused again, as if to give Bathurst an opportunity to express an
+opinion. But Archie said nothing whatever. He was staring down upon the
+table, and did not so much as raise his eyes.
+
+West shrugged his shoulders again, ever so slightly, and swung slowly
+upon his heel. In a dead silence he walked away down the saloon. No one
+spoke till he had gone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A black, moaning night had succeeded the grey, gusty day. The darkness
+came down upon the sea like a pall, covering the long, heaving swell
+from sight--a darkness that wrapped close, such a darkness as could be
+felt--through which the spray drove blindly.
+
+There was small attraction for passengers on deck, and West grimaced to
+himself as he emerged from the heated cabins. Yet it was not altogether
+distasteful to him. He was a man to whom a calm atmosphere meant
+intolerable stagnation. He was essentially born to fight his way in the
+world.
+
+For a while he paced alone, to and fro, along the deserted deck, his
+hands behind him, the inevitable cigarette between his lips. But
+presently he paused and stood still close to the companion by which he
+had ascended. It was sheltered here, and he leaned against the woodwork
+by which Cynthia Mortimer had supported herself that morning, and smoked
+serenely and meditatively.
+
+Minutes passed. There came the sound of hurrying feet upon the stairs
+behind him, and he moved a little to one side, glancing downwards.
+
+The light at the head of the companion revealed a man ascending,
+bareheaded, and in evening dress. His face, upturned, gleamed deathly
+white. It was the face of Archie Bathurst.
+
+West suddenly squared his shoulders and blocked the opening.
+
+"Go and get an overcoat, you young fool!" he said.
+
+Archie gave a great start, stood a second, then, without a word, turned
+back and disappeared.
+
+West left his sheltered corner and paced forward across the deck. He
+came to a stand by the rail, gazing outwards into the restless darkness.
+There seemed to be the hint of a smile in his intent eyes.
+
+A few more minutes drifted away. Then there fell a step behind him; a
+hand touched his arm.
+
+"Can I speak to you?" Archie asked.
+
+Slowly West turned.
+
+"If you have anything of importance to say," he said.
+
+Archie faced him with a desperate resolution.
+
+"I want to ask you--I want to know--what in thunder you did it for!"
+
+"Eh?" said West. "Did what?"
+
+He almost drawled the words, as if to give the boy time to control his
+agitation.
+
+Archie stared at him incredulously.
+
+"You must know what I mean."
+
+"Haven't an idea."
+
+There was just a tinge of contempt this time in the words. What an
+unconscionable bungler the fellow was!
+
+"But you must!" persisted Archie, blundering wildly. "I suppose you knew
+what you were doing just now when--when----"
+
+"I generally know what I am doing," observed West.
+
+"Then why----"
+
+Archie stumbled again, and fell silent, as if he had hurt himself.
+
+"I don't always care to discuss my motives," said West very decidedly.
+
+"But surely--" Archie suddenly pulled up, realising that by this
+spasmodic method he was making no headway. "Look here, sir," he said,
+more quietly, "you've done a big thing for me to-night--a dashed fine
+thing! Heaven only knows what you did it for, but----"
+
+"I have done nothing whatever for you," said West shortly. "You make a
+mistake."
+
+"But you'll admit----"
+
+"I admit nothing."
+
+He made as if he would turn on his heel, but Archie caught him by the
+arm.
+
+"I know I'm a cur," he said. And his voice shook a little. "I don't
+wonder you won't speak to me. But there are some things that can't be
+left unsaid. I'm going down now, at once, to tell those fellows what
+actually happened."
+
+"Then you are going to make a big fool of yourself to no purpose," said
+West.
+
+He stood still, scanning the boy's face with pitiless eyes. Archie
+writhed impotently.
+
+"I can't stand it!" he said, with vehemence. "I thought I was blackguard
+enough to let you do it. But--no doubt I'm a fool, as you say--I find I
+can't."
+
+"You can't help yourself," said West. He planted himself squarely in
+front of Archie. "Listen to this!" he said. "You know what I am?"
+
+"They say you are a detective," said Archie.
+
+West nodded.
+
+"Exactly. And, as such, I do whatever suits my purpose without
+explaining why to the rest of the world. If you are fortunate enough to
+glean a little advantage from what I do, take it, and be quiet about it.
+Don't hamper me with your acknowledgments. I assure you I have no more
+concern for your ultimate fate than those fellows below that you've been
+swindling all the evening. One thing I will say, though, for your
+express benefit. You will never make a good, even an indifferently good,
+gambler. And as to card-sharping, you've no talent whatever. Better give
+it up."
+
+His blue eyes looked straight at Archie with a stare that was openly
+supercilious, and Archie stood abashed.
+
+"You--you are awfully good," he stammered at length.
+
+West's brief laugh lived in his memory for long after. It held an
+indescribable sting, almost as if the man resented something. Yet the
+next moment unexpectedly he held out his hand.
+
+"A matter of opinion," he observed drily. "Good-night! Remember what I
+have said to you."
+
+"I shall never forget it," Archie said earnestly.
+
+He wrung the extended hand hard, waited an instant, then, as West turned
+from him with that slight characteristic lift of the shoulders, he moved
+away and went below.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"I'd just like a little talk with you, Mr. West, if I may." Lightly the
+audacious voice arrested him, and, as it were, against his will, West
+stood still.
+
+She was standing behind him in the morning sunshine, her hair blown all
+about her face, her grey eyes wide and daring, full of an alert
+friendliness that could not be ignored. She moved forward with her
+light, free step and stood beside him. West was smoking as usual. His
+expression was decidedly surly. Cynthia glanced at him once or twice
+before she spoke.
+
+"You mustn't mind what I'm going to ask you," she said at length gently.
+"Now, Mr. West, what was it--exactly--that happened in the saloon last
+night? Surely you'll tell me by myself if I promise--honest Injun--not
+to tell again."
+
+"Why should I tell you?" said West, in his brief, unfriendly style.
+
+Cynthia was undaunted. "Because you're a gentleman," she said boldly.
+
+He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what reason I have given you to
+say so."
+
+"No?" She looked at him with a funny little smile. "Well then, I just
+feel it in my bones; and nothing you do or leave undone will make me
+believe the contrary."
+
+"Much obliged to you," said West. His blue eyes were staring straight
+out over the sea to the long, blue sky-line. He seemed too absorbed in
+what he saw to pay much attention to the girl beside him.
+
+But she was not to be shaken off. "Mr. West," she began again, breaking
+in upon his silence, "do you know what they are saying about you
+to-day?"
+
+"Haven't an idea."
+
+"No," she said. "And I don't suppose you care either. But I care. It
+matters a lot to me."
+
+"Don't see how," threw in West.
+
+He turned in his abrupt, disconcerting way, and gave her a piercing
+look. She averted her face instantly, but he had caught her unawares.
+
+"Good heavens!" he said. "What's the matter?"
+
+"Nothing," she returned, with a sort of choked vehemence. "There's
+nothing the matter with me. Only I'm feeling badly about--about what I
+asked you to do yesterday. I'd sooner have lost every dollar I have in
+the world, if I had only known, than--than have you do--what you did."
+
+"Good heavens!" West said again.
+
+He waited a little then, looking down at her as she leaned upon the rail
+with downcast face. At length, as she did not raise her head, he
+addressed her for the first time on his own initiative:
+
+"Miss Mortimer!"
+
+She made a slight movement to indicate that she was listening, but she
+remained gazing down into the green and white of the racing water.
+
+Unconsciously he moved a little nearer to her. "There is no occasion for
+you to feel badly," he said. "I had my own reasons for what I did. It
+doesn't much matter what they were. But let me tell you for your comfort
+that neither socially nor professionally has it done me any harm."
+
+"They are all saying: 'Set a thief to catch a thief,'" she interposed,
+with something like a sob in her voice.
+
+"They can say what they like."
+
+West's tone expressed the most stoical indifference, but she would not
+be comforted.
+
+"If only I hadn't--asked you to!" she murmured.
+
+He made his peculiar, shrugging gesture. "What does it matter? Moreover,
+what you asked of me was something quite apart from this. It had nothing
+whatever to do with it."
+
+She stood up sharply at that, and faced him with burning eyes. "Oh,
+don't tell me that lie!" she exclaimed passionately. "I'm not such a
+child as to be taken in by it. You don't deceive me at all, Mr. West. I
+know as well as you do--better--that the man who did the swindling last
+night was not you. And I'm sick--I'm downright sick--whenever I think of
+it!"
+
+West's expression changed slightly as he looked at her. He seemed to
+regard her as a doctor regards the patient for whom he contemplates a
+change of treatment.
+
+"See here," he abruptly said. "You are distressing yourself all to no
+purpose. If you will promise to keep it secret, I'll tell you the facts
+of the case."
+
+Cynthia's face changed also. She caught eagerly at the suggestion.
+"Yes?" she said. "Yes? I promise, of course. And I'm quite trustworthy."
+
+"I believe you are," he said, with a grim smile. "Well, the fact of the
+matter is this. The man we want is on board this ship, but being only a
+private detective, I don't possess a warrant for his arrest. Therefore
+all I can do is to keep him in sight. And I can only do that by throwing
+him as far as possible off the scent. If he takes me for a card-sharper,
+all the better. For he's as slippery as an eel, and I have to play him
+pretty carefully."
+
+He ceased. Cynthia's eyes were growing wider and wider.
+
+"Nat Verney on board this ship?" she gasped.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Yes. You wanted him to get away, didn't you? But I don't think he will,
+this time. He will probably be arrested directly we reach New York. But,
+meantime, I must watch out."
+
+"Oh!" breathed Cynthia. "Then"--with sudden hope dawning in her
+eyes--"it really was your doing, that trick at the card-table last
+night?"
+
+West uttered his brief, hard laugh.
+
+"What do you take me for?"
+
+She heaved a great sigh of relief.
+
+"And it wasn't Archie, after all? I'm thankful you told me. I thought--I
+thought--But it doesn't matter, does it? Tell me, do tell me, Mr. West,"
+drawing very close to him, "which--which is Mr. Nat Verney?"
+
+West seemed to hesitate.
+
+"Oh, do tell me!" she begged. "I know I'm only a woman, but I always
+keep my word. And it's only two days more to New York."
+
+He looked closely into her eyes and yielded.
+
+"I'm trusting you with my reputation," he said. "It's the stout,
+red-faced man called Rudd."
+
+"Mr. Rudd?" She started back. "You don't say? That man?" There followed
+a short pause while she digested the information. Then, as on the
+previous morning, she suddenly extended her hand. "Well, I hate that
+man, anyway. And I believe you're really clever. If you like, Mr. West,
+I'll help you to watch out."
+
+"Thanks!" said West. He took the little hand into a tight grip, still
+looking straight into her eyes. There was a light in his own that shone
+like a blue flame. "Thanks!" he said again, as he released it. "You're
+very good, Miss Mortimer. But you mustn't be seen with me, you know.
+You've got to remember that I'm a swindler."
+
+The girl laughed aloud. It pleased her to feel that this taciturn man
+had taken her into his confidence at last. "I shall remember," she said
+lightly.
+
+And she went away, not only comforted, but gay of heart.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+During the remainder of the voyage, West was treated with extreme
+coolness by every one. It did not seem to abash him in the least. He
+came and went in the crowd with the utmost _sang-froid_, always
+preoccupied, always self-contained. Cynthia observed him from a distance
+with admiration. The man had taken her fancy. She was keenly interested
+in his methods, as well as in his decidedly unusual personality. She
+observed Rudd also, and noted the obvious suspicion with which he
+regarded West. On the night before their arrival she saw the latter
+alone for a moment, and whispered to him that Mr. Rudd seemed uneasy. At
+which information West merely laughed sardonically. He was holding a
+small parcel, to which, after a moment, he drew her attention.
+
+"I was going to ask you to accept this," he said. "It is nothing very
+important, but I should like you to have it. Don't open it before
+to-morrow."
+
+"What is it?" asked Cynthia, in surprise.
+
+He frowned in his abrupt way.
+
+"It doesn't matter; something connected with my profession. I shouldn't
+give it you, if I didn't know you were to be trusted."
+
+"But--but"--she hesitated a little--"ought I to take it?"
+
+He raised his shoulders.
+
+"I shall give it to the captain for you, if you don't. But I would
+rather give it to you direct."
+
+In face of this, Cynthia yielded, feeling as if he compelled her.
+
+"But mayn't I open it?"
+
+"No." West's eyes held hers for a second. "Not till to-morrow. And, in
+case we don't meet again, I'll say good-bye."
+
+"But we shall meet in New York?" she urged, with a sudden sense of loss.
+"Or perhaps in Boston? My father would really like to meet you."
+
+"Much obliged," said West, with his grim smile. "But I'm not much of a
+society man. And I don't think I shall find myself in Boston at
+present."
+
+"Then--then--I sha'n't see you again--ever?" Cynthia's tone was
+unconsciously tragic. Till that moment she had scarcely realised how
+curiously strong an attraction this man held for her.
+
+West's expression changed. His emotionless blue eyes became suddenly
+more blue, and intense with a vital fire. He leaned towards her as one
+on the verge of vehement speech.
+
+Then abruptly his look went beyond her, and he checked himself.
+
+"Who knows?" he said carelessly. "Good-bye for the present, anyway! It's
+been a pleasant voyage."
+
+He straightened himself with the words, nodded, and turned aside without
+so much as touching her hand.
+
+And Cynthia, glancing round with an instinctive feeling of discomfiture,
+saw Rudd with another man, standing watching them at the end of the
+passage.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the dark of early morning they reached New York. Most of the
+passengers decided to remain on board for breakfast, which was served at
+an early hour in the midst of a hubbub and turmoil indescribable.
+
+Cynthia, with her aunt and Archie, partook of a hurried meal in the
+thick of the ever-shifting crowd. She looked in vain for West, her grey
+eyes searching perpetually.
+
+One friend after another came up to bid them good-bye, stood a little,
+talking, and presently drifted away. The whole ship from end to end
+hummed like a hive of bees.
+
+She was glad when at length she was able to escape from the noisy
+saloon. She had not slept well, and her nerves were on edge. The memory
+of that interrupted conversation with West, of the confidence unspoken,
+went with her continually. She had an almost feverish longing to see him
+once more, even though it were in the heart of the crowd. He had been
+about to tell her something. Of that she was certain. She had an
+intense, an almost passionate desire to know what it was. Surely he
+would not--he could not--go ashore without seeing her again!
+
+She had not intended to open the packet he had given her till she was
+ashore herself, but a palpitating curiosity tugged ever at her
+resolution till at length she could resist it no longer. West was
+nowhere to be seen, and she felt she must know more. It was intolerable
+to be thus left in the dark. Through the scurrying multitude of
+departing passengers, she began to make her way back to her cabin. Her
+progress was of necessity slow, and once in a crowded corner she was
+stopped altogether.
+
+Two men were talking together close to her. Their backs were towards
+her, and in the general confusion they did not observe her futile
+impatience to pass.
+
+"Oh, I knew the fellow was a wrong 'un, all along," were the first words
+that filtered to the girl's consciousness as she stood. "But I didn't
+think he was responsible for that card trick, I must say. Young Bathurst
+looked so abominably hangdog."
+
+It was the Englishman, Norton, who spoke, and the man who stood with him
+was Rudd. Cynthia realised the near presence of the latter with a
+sensation of disgust. His drawling tones grated upon her intolerably.
+
+"Waal," he said, "it was just that card trick that opened my eyes--I
+shouldn't have noticed him, otherwise. I knew that young Bathurst was
+square. He hasn't the brains to be anything else. And when this chap
+butted in with his thick-ribbed impudence, I guessed right then that we
+hadn't got a beginner to deal with. After that I watched for a bit, and
+there were several little things that made me begin to reflect. So the
+next evening I got a wireless message off to my partner in New York, and
+I reckon that did the trick. When we came up alongside this morning, the
+vultures were all ready for him. I took them to his cabin myself. There
+was no fuss at all. He saw it was all up, and gave in without a murmur.
+They were only just in time, though. In another thirty seconds, he would
+have been off. It was a clever piece of work, I flatter myself, to net
+Mr. Nat Verney so neatly."
+
+The Englishman began to laugh, but suddenly broke off short as a girl's
+face, white and quivering, came between them.
+
+"Who is this man?" the high, breathless voice demanded. "Which--which is
+Mr. Nat Verney?"
+
+Rudd looked down at her through narrowed eyes. He was smiling--a small,
+bitter smile.
+
+"Waal, Miss Mortimer," he began, "I reckon you have first right to
+know----"
+
+She turned from him imperiously.
+
+"You tell me," she commanded Norton.
+
+Norton looked genuinely uncomfortable, and, probably in consequence, he
+answered her with a gruffness that sounded brutal.
+
+"It was West. He has been arrested. His own fault entirely. No one would
+have suspected him if he hadn't been a fool, and given his own show
+away."
+
+"He wasn't a fool!" Cynthia flashed back fiercely. "He was my friend!"
+
+"I shouldn't be in too great a hurry to claim that distinction,"
+remarked Rudd. "He's about the best-known rascal in the two
+hemispheres."
+
+But Cynthia did not wait to hear him. She had slipped past, and was
+gone.
+
+In her own cabin at last, she bolted the door and tore open that packet
+connected with his profession which he had given her the night before.
+It contained a roll of notes to the value of a hundred pounds, wrapped
+in a sheet of notepaper on which was scrawled a single line: "With
+apologies from the man who swindled you."
+
+There was no signature of any sort. None was needed! When Cynthia
+finally left her cabin an hour later, her eyes were bright with that
+brightness which comes from the shedding of many tears.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+The Swindler's Handicap
+
+A SEQUEL TO "THE SWINDLER"
+
+_Which I Dedicate to the Friend Who Asked for it._
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+"Yes, but what's the good of it?" said Cynthia Mortimer gently. "I can
+never marry you."
+
+"You might be engaged to me for a bit, anyhow," he urged, "and see how
+you like it."
+
+She made a quaint gesture with her arms, as though she tried to lift
+some heavy weight.
+
+"I am very sorry," she said, in the same gentle voice. "It's very nice
+of you to think of it, Lord Babbacombe. But--you see, I'm quite sure I
+shouldn't like it. So that ends it, doesn't it?"
+
+He stood up to his full height, and regarded her with a faint, rueful
+smile.
+
+"You're a very obstinate girl, Cynthia," he said.
+
+She leaned back in her chair, looking up at him with clear, grey eyes
+that met his with absolute freedom.
+
+"I'm not a girl at all, Jack," she said. "I gave up all my pretensions
+to youth many, many years ago."
+
+He nodded, still faintly smiling.
+
+"You were about nineteen, weren't you?"
+
+"No. I was past twenty-one." A curious note crept into her voice; it
+sounded as if she were speaking of the dead. "It--was just twelve years
+ago," she said.
+
+Babbacombe's eyebrows went up.
+
+"What! Are you past thirty? I had no idea."
+
+She laughed at him--a quick, gay laugh.
+
+"Why, it's eight years since I first met you."
+
+"Is it? Great heavens, how the time goes--wasted time, too, Cynthia! We
+might have been awfully happy together all this time. Well"--with a
+sharp sigh--"we can't get it back again. But anyhow, we needn't squander
+any more of it, if only you will be reasonable."
+
+She shook her head; then, with one of those quick impulses that were a
+part of her charm, she sprang lightly up and gave him both her hands.
+
+"No, Jack," she said. "No--no--no! I'm not reasonable. I'm just a
+drivelling, idiotic fool. But--but I love my foolishness too well ever
+to part with it. Ever, did I say? No, even I am not quite so foolish as
+that. But it's sublime enough to hold me till--till I know for certain
+whether--whether the thing I call love is real or--or--only--a sham."
+
+There was passion in her voice, and her eyes were suddenly full of
+tears; but she kept them upturned to his as though she pleaded with him
+to understand.
+
+He looked down at her very kindly, very steadily, holding her hands
+closely in his own. There was no hint of chagrin on his clean-shaven
+face--only the utmost kindness.
+
+"Don't cry!" he said gently. "Tell me about this sublime foolishness of
+yours--about the thing you call--love. I might help you, perhaps--who
+knows?--to find out if it is the real thing or not."
+
+Her lips were quivering.
+
+"I've never told a soul," she said. "I--am half afraid."
+
+"Nonsense, dear!" he protested.
+
+"But I am," she persisted. "It's such an absurd romance--this
+of mine, so absurd that you'll laugh at it, just at first. And
+then--afterwards--you will--disapprove."
+
+"My dear girl," he said, "you have never entertained the smallest regard
+for my opinion before. Why begin to-day?"
+
+She laughed a little, turning from him to brush away her tears.
+
+"Sit down," she said, "and--and smoke--those horrid strong cigarettes of
+yours. I love the smell. Perhaps I'll try and tell you. But--mind,
+Jack--you're not to look at me. And you're not to say a single word till
+I've done. Just--smoke, that's all."
+
+She settled herself on the low fender-cushion with her face turned from
+him to the fire. Lord Babbacombe sat down as she desired, and took out
+and lighted a cigarette.
+
+As the scent of it reached her she began to speak in the high, American
+voice he had come to love. There was nothing piercing about it; it was a
+clear, sweet treble.
+
+"It happened when I was travelling under Aunt Bathurst's wing. You know,
+it was with her and my cousin Archie that I first did Europe. My! It was
+a long time ago! I've been round the world four times since then--twice
+with poor dear Daddy, once with Mrs. Archie, after he died, and the last
+time--alone. And I didn't like that last time a mite. I was like the man
+in _The Pilgrim's Progress_--I took my hump wherever I went. Still, I
+had to do something. You were big-game shooting. I'd have gone with you
+if you'd have had me unmarried. But I knew you wouldn't, so I just had
+to mess around by myself. Oh, but I was tired--I was tired! But I kept
+saying to myself it was the last journey before--Jack, if you don't
+smoke your cigarette will go out. Where was I? I'm afraid I'm boring
+you. You can go to sleep if you like. Well, it was on the voyage back.
+There was a man on board that every one said was a private detective. It
+was at the time of the great Nat Verney swindles. You remember, of
+course? And somehow we all jumped to the conclusion that he was tracking
+him. I remember seeing him when we first went on board at Liverpool. He
+was standing by the gangway watching the crowd with the bluest eyes on
+earth, and I took him for a detective right away. But--for all
+that--there was something about him--something I kind of liked, that
+made me feel I wanted to know him. He was avoiding everybody, but I made
+him talk to me. You know my way."
+
+She paused for a moment, and leaning forward, gazed into the heart of
+the fire with wide, intent eyes.
+
+The man in the chair behind her smoked on silently with a drawn face.
+
+"He was very horrid to me," she went on, her voice soft and slow as
+though she were describing something seen in a vision, "the only man who
+ever was. But I--do you know, I liked him all the more for that? I
+didn't flirt with him. I didn't try. He wasn't the sort one could flirt
+with. He was hard--hard as iron, clean-shaven, with an immensely
+powerful jaw, and eyes that looked clean through you. He was one of
+those short, broad Englishmen--you know the sort--out of proportion
+everywhere, but so splendidly strong. He just hated me for making
+friends with him. It was very funny."
+
+An odd little note of laughter ran through the words--that laughter
+which is akin to tears.
+
+"But I didn't care for that," she said. "It didn't hurt me in the least.
+He was too big to give offence to an impudent little minx like me.
+Besides, I wanted him to help me, and after a bit I told him so.
+Archie--my cousin, you know; he was only a boy then--was mad on
+card-playing at that time. And I was real worried about him. I knew he
+would get into a hole sooner or later, and I begged my surly Englishman
+to keep an eye on him. Oh, I was a fool! I was a brainless, chattering
+fool! And I'm not much better now, I often think."
+
+Cynthia's hand went up to her eyes. The vision in the fire was all
+blurred and indistinct.
+
+Babbacombe was leaning forward, listening intently. The firelight
+flickered on his face, showing it very grave and still. He did not
+attempt to speak.
+
+Nevertheless, after a moment, Cynthia made a wavering movement with one
+hand in his direction.
+
+"I'm not crying, Jack. Don't be silly! I'm sure your cigarette is out."
+
+It was. He pitched it past her into the fire.
+
+"Light another," she pleaded. "I love them so. They are the kind he
+always smoked. That's nearly the end of the story. You can almost guess
+the rest. That very night Archie did get into a hole, a bad one, and the
+only way my friend could lift him out was by getting down into it
+himself. He saved him, but it was at his own expense; for it made people
+begin to reflect. And in the end--in the end, when we came into harbour,
+they came on board, and--and arrested him early in the morning--before I
+knew. You see, he--he was Nat Verney."
+
+Cynthia's dark head was suddenly bowed upon her hands. She was rocking
+to and fro in the firelight.
+
+"And it was my fault," she sobbed--"all my fault. If--if he hadn't done
+that thing for me, no one would have known--no one would have
+suspected!"
+
+She had broken down completely at last, and the man who heard her
+wondered, with a deep compassion, how often she had wept, in secret and
+uncomforted, as she was weeping now.
+
+He bore it till his humanity could endure no longer. And then, very
+gently, he reached out, touched her, drew her to him, pillowed her head
+on his shoulder.
+
+"Don't cry, Cynthia," he whispered earnestly. "It's heart-breaking work,
+dear, and it doesn't help. There! Let me hold you till you feel better.
+You can't refuse comfort from an old friend like me."
+
+She yielded to him mutely for a little, till her grief had somewhat
+spent itself. Then, with a little quivering smile, she lifted her head
+and looked him straight in the face.
+
+"Thank you, Jack," she said. "You--you've done me good. But it's not
+good for you, is it? I've made you quite damp. You don't think you'll
+catch cold?"--dabbing at his shoulder with her handkerchief.
+
+He took her hand and stayed it.
+
+"There is nothing in this world," he said gravely "that I would so
+gladly do as help you, Cynthia. Will you believe this, and treat me from
+this stand-point only?"
+
+She turned back to the fire, but she left her hand in his.
+
+"My dear," she said, in an odd little choked voice, "it's just like you
+to say so, and I guess I sha'n't forget it. Well, well! There's my
+romance in a nutshell. He didn't care a fig for me till just the last.
+He cared then, but it was too late to come to anything. They shipped him
+back again you know, and he was sentenced to fifteen years' penal
+servitude. He's done nearly twelve, and he's coming out next month on
+ticket-of-leave."
+
+"Oh, Cynthia!"
+
+Babbacombe bent his head suddenly upon her hand, and sat tense and
+silent.
+
+"I know," she said--"I know. It sounds simply monstrous, put into bald
+words. I sometimes wonder myself if it can possibly be true--if I,
+Cynthia Mortimer, can really be such a fool. But I can't possibly tell
+for certain till I see him again. I must see him again somehow. I've
+waited all these years--all these years."
+
+Babbacombe groaned.
+
+"And suppose, when you've seen him, you still care?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"What then, Jack? I don't know; I don't know."
+
+He pulled himself together, and sat up.
+
+"Do you know where he is?"
+
+"Yes. He is at Barren Hill. He has been there for five years now. My
+solicitor knows that I take an interest in him. He calls it
+philanthropy." Cynthia smiled faintly into the fire. "I was one of the
+people he swindled," she said. "But he paid me back."
+
+She rose and went across the room to a bureau in a corner. She unlocked
+a drawer, and took something from it. Returning, she laid a packet of
+notes in Babbacombe's hands.
+
+"I could never part with them," she said. "He gave them to me in a
+sealed parcel the last time I saw him. It's only a hundred pounds. Yes,
+that was the message he wrote. Can you read it? 'With apologies from the
+man who swindled you.' As if I cared for the wretched money!"
+
+Babbacombe frowned over the writing in silence.
+
+"Why don't you say what you think, Jack?" she said. "Why don't you call
+him a thieving scoundrel and me a poor, romantic fool!"
+
+"I am trying to think how I can help you," he answered quietly. "Have
+you any plans?"
+
+"No, nothing definite," she said. "It is difficult to know what to do.
+He knows one thing--that he has a friend who will help him when he comes
+out. He will be horribly poor, you know, and I'm so rich. But, of
+course, I would do it anonymously. And he thinks his friend is a man."
+
+Babbacombe pondered with drawn brows.
+
+"Cynthia," he said slowly, at length, "suppose I take this matter into
+my own hands, suppose I make it possible for you to see this man once
+more, will you be guided entirely by me? Will you promise me solemnly to
+take no rash step of any description; in short, to do nothing without
+consulting me? Will you promise me, Cynthia?"
+
+He spoke very earnestly. The firelight showed her the resolution on his
+face.
+
+"Of course I will promise you, Jack," she said instantly. "I would trust
+myself body and soul in your keeping. But what can you do?"
+
+"I might do this," he said. "I might pose as his unknown friend--another
+philanthropist, Cynthia." He smiled rather grimly. "I might get hold of
+him when he comes out, give him something to do to keep his head above
+water. If he has any manhood in him, he won't mind what he takes. And I
+might--later, if I thought it practicable--I only say 'if,' Cynthia, for
+after many years of prison life a man isn't always fit company for a
+lady--I might arrange that you should see him in some absolutely casual
+fashion. If you consent to this arrangement you must leave that entirely
+to me."
+
+"But you will hate to do it!" she exclaimed.
+
+He rose. "I will do it for your sake," he said. "I shall not hate it if
+it makes you see things--as they are."
+
+"Oh, but you are good," she said tremulously--"you are good!"
+
+"I love a good woman," he answered gravely.
+
+And with that he turned and left her alone in the firelight with her
+romance.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+It was early on a dark November day that the prison gate at Barren Hill
+opened to allow a convict who had just completed twelve years' penal
+servitude to pass out a free man.
+
+A motor car was drawn up at the side of the kerb as he emerged, and a
+man in a long overcoat, with another slung on his arm, was pacing up and
+down.
+
+He wheeled at the closing of the gate, and they stood face to face.
+
+There was a moment's difficult silence; then the man with the motor
+spoke.
+
+"Mr. West, I think?"
+
+The other looked him up and down in a single comprehensive glance that
+was like the flash of a sword blade.
+
+"Certainly," he said curtly, "if you prefer it."
+
+He was a short, thick-set man of past forty, with a face so grimly lined
+as to mask all expression. His eyes alone were vividly alert. They were
+the bluest eyes that Babbacombe had ever seen.
+
+He accepted the curt acknowledgment with grave courtesy, and made a
+motion toward the car.
+
+"Will you get in? My name is Babbacombe. I am here to meet you, as no
+doubt you have been told. You had better wear this"--opening out the
+coat he carried.
+
+But West remained motionless, facing him on the grey, deserted road.
+"Before I come with you," he said, in his brief, clipped style, "there
+is one thing I want to know. Are you patronising me for the sake of
+philanthropy, or for--some other reason?"
+
+As he uttered the question, he fixed Babbacombe with a stare that was
+not without insolence.
+
+Babbacombe did not hesitate in his reply. He was not a man to be lightly
+disconcerted.
+
+"You can put it down to anything you like," he said, "except
+philanthropy."
+
+West considered a moment.
+
+"Very well, sir," he said finally, his aggressive tone slightly
+modified. "In that case I will come with you."
+
+He turned about, and thrust his arms into the coat Babbacombe held for
+him, turned up the collar, and without a backward glance, stepped into
+the waiting motor.
+
+Babbacombe started the engine, and followed him. In another moment they
+had glided away into the dripping mist, and the prison was left behind.
+
+Through mile after mile they sped in silence. West sat with his chin
+buried in his coat, his keen eyes staring straight ahead. Babbacombe, at
+the wheel, never glanced at him once.
+
+Through villages, through towns, through long stretches of open country
+they glided, sometimes slackening, but never stopping. The sun broke
+through at length, revealing a country of hills and woods and silvery
+running streams. They had been travelling for hours. It was nearly noon.
+
+For the first time since their start Babbacombe spoke.
+
+"I hope I haven't kept you going too long. We are just getting in."
+
+"Don't mind me," said West.
+
+Babbacombe was slackening speed.
+
+"It's a fine hunting country," he observed.
+
+"Whose is it?" asked West.
+
+"Mine, most of it." They were running smoothly down a long avenue of
+beech trees, with a glimpse of an open gateway at the end.
+
+"It must take some managing," remarked West.
+
+"It does," Babbacombe answered. "It needs a capable man."
+
+They reached the gateway, passing under an arch of stone. Beyond it lay
+wide stretches of park land. Rabbits scuttled in the sunshine, and under
+the trees here and there they had glimpses of deer.
+
+"Ever ridden to hounds?" asked Babbacombe.
+
+The man beside him turned with a movement half savage.
+
+"Set me on a good horse," he said, "and I will show you what I can do."
+
+Babbacombe nodded, conscious for the first time of a warmth of sympathy
+for the man. Whatever his sins, he must have suffered infernally during
+the past twelve years.
+
+Twelve years! Ye gods! It was half a life-time! It represented the whole
+of his manhood to Babbacombe. Twelve years ago he had been an
+undergraduate at Cambridge.
+
+He drove on through the undulating stretches of Farringdean Park, his
+favourite heritage, trying to realise what effect twelve years in a
+convict prison would have had upon himself, what his outlook would
+ultimately have become, and what in actual fact was the outlook and
+general attitude of the man who had come through this long purgatory.
+
+Sweeping round a rise in the ground, they came into sudden sight of the
+castle. Ancient and splendid it rose before them, its battlements
+shining in the sun--a heritage of which any man might be proud.
+
+Babbacombe waited for some word of admiration from his companion. But he
+waited in vain. West was mute.
+
+"What do you think of it?" he asked at last, determined to wring some
+meed of appreciation from him, even though he stooped to ask for it.
+
+"What--the house?" said West. "It's uncommonly like a primeval sort of
+prison, to my idea. I've no doubt it boasts some very superior
+dungeons."
+
+The sting in the words reached Babbacombe, but without offence. Again,
+more strongly, he was conscious of that glow of sympathy within him,
+kindling to a flame of fellowship.
+
+"It boasts better things than that," he said quietly, "as I hope you
+will allow me to show you."
+
+He was conscious of the piercing gaze of West's eyes, and, after a
+moment, he deliberately turned his own to meet it.
+
+"And if you find--as you probably soon will--that I make but a poor sort
+of host," he said, "just remember, will you, that I like my guests to
+please themselves, and secure your own comfort?"
+
+For a second, West's grim mouth seemed to hesitate on the edge of a
+smile--a smile that never developed.
+
+"I wonder how soon you will tell me to go to the devil?" he said
+cynically.
+
+"Oh, I am a better host than that," said Babbacombe, with quiet humour.
+"If you ever prefer the devil's hospitality to mine, it won't be my
+fault."
+
+West turned from him with a slight shrug of the shoulders, as if he
+deemed himself to be dealing with a harmless lunatic, and dropped back
+into silence.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+Silence had become habitual to him, as Babbacombe soon discovered. He
+could remain silent for hours. Probably he had never been of a very
+expansive nature, and prison discipline had strengthened an inborn
+reticence to a reserve of iron. He was not a disconcerting companion,
+because he was absolutely unobtrusive, but with all the good-will in the
+world Babbacombe found it well-nigh impossible to treat him with that
+ease of manner which came to him so spontaneously in his dealings with
+other men.
+
+Grim, taciturn, cynical, West baffled his every effort to reach the
+inner man. His silence clothed him like armour, and he never really
+emerged from it save when a fiendish sense of humour tempted him. This,
+and this alone, so it seemed to Babbacombe, had any power to draw him
+out. And the instant he had flung his gibe at the object thereof, he
+would retreat again into that impenetrable shell of silence. He never
+once spoke of his past life, never once referred to the future.
+
+He merely accepted Babbacombe's hospitality in absolute silence, without
+question, without gratitude, smoked his cigarettes eternally, drank his
+wines without appreciation, rode his horses without comment.
+
+The only point in his favour that Babbacombe, the kindliest of critics,
+could discover after a fort-night's patient study, was that the animals
+loved him. He conducted himself like a gentleman, but somehow Babbacombe
+had expected this much from the moment of their meeting. He sometimes
+told himself with a wry face that if the fellow had behaved like a beast
+he would have found him easier to cultivate. At least, he would have had
+something to work upon, a creature of flesh and blood, instead of this
+inscrutable statue wrought in iron.
+
+With a sinking heart he recalled Cynthia's description of the man. To a
+certain extent it still fitted him, but he imagined that those twelve
+years had had a hardening effect upon him, making rigid that which had
+always been stubborn, driving the iron deeper and ever deeper into his
+soul, till only iron remained. Many were the nights he spent pondering
+over the romance of the woman he loved. What subtle attraction in this
+hardened sinner had lured her heart away? Was it possible that the
+fellow had ever cared for her? Had he ever possessed even the rudiments
+of a heart?
+
+The message he had read in the firelight--the brief line which this man
+had written--was the only answer he could find to these doubts. It
+seemed to point to something--some pulsing warmth--which could not have
+been kindled from nothing. And again the memory of a woman's tears would
+come upon him, spurring him to fresh effort. Surely the man for whom she
+was breaking her heart could not be wholly evil, nor yet wholly callous!
+Somewhere behind those steely blue eyes, there must dwell some answer to
+the riddle. It might be that Cynthia would find it, though he failed.
+But he shrank, with an aversion inexpressible, from letting her try, so
+deeply rooted had his conviction become that her cherished girlish fancy
+was no more than the misty gold of dreams.
+
+Yet for her sake he persevered--for the sake of those precious tears
+that had so wrung his heart he would do that which he had set out to do,
+notwithstanding the utmost discouragement. An insoluble enigma the man
+might be to him, but he would not for that turn back from the task that
+he had undertaken. West should have his chance in spite of it.
+
+They were riding together over the crisp turf of the park one frosty
+morning in November, when Babbacombe turned quietly to his companion,
+pointing to the chimneys of a house half-hidden by trees, ahead of them.
+
+"I want to go over that place," he said. "It is standing empty, and
+probably needs repairs."
+
+West received the announcement with a brief nod. He never betrayed
+interest in anything.
+
+"Shall I hold your animal?" he suggested, as they reached the gate that
+led into the little garden.
+
+"No. Come in with me, won't you? We can hitch the bridles to the post."
+
+They went in together through a rustling litter of dead leaves. The
+house was low, and thatched--a picturesque dwelling of no great size.
+
+Babbacombe led the way within, and they went from room to room, he with
+note-book in hand, jotting down the various details necessary to make
+the place into a comfortable habitation.
+
+"I daresay you can help me with this if you will," he said presently. "I
+shall turn some workmen on to it next week. Perhaps you will keep an eye
+on them for me, decide on the decorations, and so forth. It is my
+agent's house, you know."
+
+"Where is your agent?" asked West abruptly.
+
+Babbacombe smiled a little. "At the present moment--I have no agent.
+That is what keeps me so busy. I hope to have one before long."
+
+West strolled to a window and opened it, leaning his arms upon the sill.
+
+He seemed about to relapse into one of his interminable silences when
+Babbacombe, standing behind him, said quietly, "I am going to offer the
+post to you."
+
+"To me?" West wheeled suddenly, even with vehemence. "What for?" he
+demanded sharply.
+
+Babbacombe met his look, still faintly smiling. "For our mutual
+benefit," he said. "I am convinced that you have ample ability for this
+sort of work, and if you will accept the post I shall be very pleased."
+
+He stopped at that, determined for once to make the man speak on his own
+initiative. West was looking straight at him, and there was a curious
+glitter in his eyes like the sparkle of ice in the sun.
+
+When he spoke at length his speech, though curt, was not so rigorously
+emotionless as usual.
+
+"Don't you think," he said, "that you have carried this tomfoolery of
+yours far enough?"
+
+Babbacombe raised one eyebrow. "Meaning?" he questioned.
+
+West enlightened him with most unusual vigour.
+
+"Meaning that tomfoolery of this sort never pays. I know. I've done it
+myself in my time. If I were you, I should pull up and try some less
+expensive hobby than that of mending broken men. The pieces are always
+chipped and never stick, and the chances are that you'll cut your
+fingers trying to make 'em. No, sir, I won't be your agent! Find a man
+you can trust, and let me go to the devil!"
+
+The outburst was so unexpected and so forcible that at first Babbacombe
+stared at the man in amazement. Then, with that spontaneous kindness of
+heart that made him what he was, he grabbed and held his opportunity.
+
+"My dear fellow," he said, not pausing for a choice of words, "you are
+talking infernal rot, and I won't listen to you. Do you seriously
+suppose I should be such a tenfold ass as to offer the management of my
+estate to a man I couldn't trust?"
+
+"What reason have you for trusting me?" West thrust back. "Unless you
+think that a dozen years in prison have deprived me of my ancient skill.
+Would you choose a man who has been a drunkard for your butler? No! Then
+don't choose a swindler and an ex-convict for your bailiff."
+
+He swung around with the words and shut the window with a bang.
+
+But again Babbacombe took his cue from that inner prompting to which he
+had trusted all his life. For the first time he liked the man; for the
+first time, so it seemed to him, he caught a glimpse of the soul into
+which the iron had been so deeply driven.
+
+"Look here, West," he said, "I am not going to take that sort of refusal
+from you. We have been together some time now, and it isn't my fault if
+we don't know each other pretty well. I don't care a hang what you have
+been. I am only concerned with what you are, and whatever that may be,
+you are not a weak-kneed fool. You have the power to keep straight if
+you choose, and you are to choose. Understand? I make you this offer
+with a perfectly open mind, and you are to consider it in the same way.
+Would you have said because you had once had a nasty tumble that you
+would never ride again? Of course you wouldn't. You are not such a fool.
+Then don't refuse my offer on those grounds, for it's nothing less than
+contemptible."
+
+"Think so?" said West. He had listened quite impassively to the oration,
+but as Babbacombe ended, his grim mouth relaxed sardonically. "You seem
+mighty anxious to spend your money on damaged goods, Lord Babbacombe.
+It's a tom-fool investment, you know. How many of the honest folk in
+your service will stick to you when they begin to find out what you've
+given them?"
+
+"Why should they find out?" asked Babbacombe.
+
+West shrugged his shoulders. "It's a dead certainty that they will."
+
+"If I can take the risk, so can you," said Babbacombe.
+
+"Oh, of course, I used to be rather good at that game. It is called
+'sand-throwing' in the profession."
+
+Babbacombe made an impatient movement, and West's hard smile became more
+pronounced.
+
+"But you are not at all good at it," he continued. "You are almost
+obtrusively obvious. It is a charm that has its very material
+drawbacks."
+
+Babbacombe wholly lost patience at that. The man's grim irony was not to
+be borne.
+
+"Take it or leave it!" he exclaimed. "But if you leave it, in heaven's
+name let it be for some sounder reason than a faked-up excuse of moral
+weakness!"
+
+West uttered an abrupt laugh. "You seem to have a somewhat exalted
+opinion of my morals," he observed. "Well, since you are determined to
+brave the risk of being let down, I needn't quibble at it any further. I
+accept."
+
+Babbacombe's attitude changed in an instant. He held out his hand.
+
+"You won't let me down, West," he said, with confidence.
+
+West hesitated for a single instant, then took the proffered hand into a
+grip of iron. His blue eyes looked hard and straight into Babbacombe's
+face.
+
+"If I let you down," he said grimly, "I shall be underneath."
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+It was not till the middle of December that the new bailiff moved into
+his own quarters, but he had assumed his duties some weeks before that
+time, and Babbacombe was well satisfied with him. The man's business
+instincts were unusually keen. He had, moreover, a wonderful eye for
+details, and very little escaped him. It soon came home to Babbacombe
+that the management of his estate was in capable hands, and he
+congratulated himself upon having struck ore where he had least expected
+to find it. He supervised the whole of West's work for a time, but he
+soon suffered this vigilance to relax, for the man's shrewdness far
+surpassed his own. He settled to the work with a certain grim relish,
+and it was a perpetual marvel to Babbacombe that he mastered it from the
+outset with such facility.
+
+Keepers and labourers eyed him askance for awhile, but West's
+imperturbability took effect before very long. They accepted him without
+enthusiasm, but also without rancour, as a man who could hold his own.
+
+As soon as he was installed in the bailiff's house, Babbacombe left him
+to his own devices, and departed upon a round of visits. He proposed to
+entertain a house-party himself towards the end of January. He informed
+West of this before departing, and was slightly puzzled by a certain
+humourous gleam that shone in the steely eyes at the news. The matter
+went speedily from his mind. It was not till long after that he recalled
+it.
+
+West wrote to him regularly during his absence, curt, businesslike
+epistles, which always terminated on a grim note of irony: "Your
+faithful steward, N. V. West." He never varied this joke, and Babbacombe
+usually noted it with a faint frown. The fellow was not a bad sort, he
+was convinced, but he would always be more or less of an enigma to him.
+
+He returned to Farringdean in the middle of January with one of his
+married sisters, whom he had secured to act as hostess to his party. He
+invited West to dine with them informally on the night of his return.
+
+His sister, Lady Cottesbrook, a gay and garrulous lady some years his
+senior, received the new agent with considerable condescension. She
+bestowed scant attention upon him during dinner, and West presented his
+most impenetrable demeanour in consequence, refusing steadily to avail
+himself of Babbacombe's courteous efforts to draw him into the
+conversation.
+
+He would have excused himself later from accompanying his host into the
+drawing-room, but Babbacombe insisted upon this so stubbornly that
+finally, with his characteristic lift of the shoulders, he yielded.
+
+As they entered, Lady Cottesbrook raised her glasses, and favoured him
+with a close scrutiny.
+
+"It's very curious," she said, "but I can't help feeling as if I have
+seen you somewhere before. You have the look of some one I knew years
+ago--some one I didn't like--but I can't remember who."
+
+"Just as well, perhaps," said Babbacombe, with a careless laugh, though
+a faint flush of annoyance rose in his face. "Come over here, West. You
+can smoke. My sister likes it."
+
+He seated himself at the piano, indicated a chair near him to his guest,
+and began to play.
+
+West, with his back to the light, sat motionless, listening. Lady
+Cottesbrook took up a book, and ignored him. There was something
+unfathomable about her brother's bailiff to which she strongly objected.
+
+An hour later, when he had gone, she spoke of it.
+
+"That man has the eyes of a criminal, Jack. I am sure he isn't
+trustworthy. He is too brazen. Where in the world did you pick him up?"
+
+To which Babbacombe made composed reply:
+
+"I know all about him, and he is absolutely trustworthy. He was
+recommended to me by a friend. I am sorry you thought it necessary to be
+rude to him. There is nothing offensive about him that I can see."
+
+"My dear boy, you see nothing offensive in a great many people whom I
+positively detest. However, he isn't worth an argument. Only, if you
+must ask the man to dine, for goodness' sake another time have some one
+else for me to talk to. I frankly admit that I have no talent for
+entertaining people of that class. Now tell me the latest about Cynthia
+Mortimer. Of course, she is one of the chosen guests?"
+
+"She has promised to spend a week here," Babbacombe answered somewhat
+reluctantly. "I haven't seen her lately. She has been in Paris."
+
+"What has she been doing there? Buying her trousseau?"
+
+"I really don't know." There was a faint inflection of irritation in his
+voice.
+
+"Doesn't her consenting to come here mean that she will accept you?"
+questioned Lady Cottesbrook. She never hesitated to ask in plainest
+terms for anything she wanted.
+
+"No," Babbacombe said heavily. "It does not."
+
+Lady Cottesbrook was silenced. After a little she turned her attention
+to other matters, to her brother's evident relief.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+It was on a still, frosty evening of many stars that Cynthia came to
+Farringdean Castle. A young moon was low in the sky, and she paused to
+curtsey to it upon descending from the motor that had borne her thither.
+
+She turned to find Babbacombe beside her.
+
+"I hope it will bring you luck, Cynthia," he said.
+
+She flashed a swift look at him, and gave him both her hands.
+
+"Thank you, old friend," she said softly.
+
+Her eyes were shining like the stars above them. She laughed a little
+tremulously.
+
+"I couldn't get to the station to meet you," he said. "I wanted to. Come
+inside. There is no one here whom you don't know."
+
+"Thank you again," she said.
+
+In another moment they were entering the great hall. Before an immense
+open fireplace a group of people were gathered at tea. There was a
+general buzz of greeting as Cynthia entered. She was always popular,
+wherever she went.
+
+She scattered her own greetings broadcast, passing from one to another,
+greeting each in her high, sweet drawl--a gracious, impulsive woman whom
+to know was to love.
+
+Babbacombe watched her with a dumb longing. How often he had pictured
+her as hostess where now she moved as guest! Well, that dream of his was
+shattered, but the glowing fragments yet burned in his secret heart. All
+his life long he would remember her as he saw her that night on his own
+hearth. Her loveliness was like a flower wide open to the sun. He
+thought her lovelier that night than she had ever been before. When she
+flitted away at length, he felt as if she took the warmth and brightness
+of the fireside with her.
+
+There was no agreement between them, but he knew that she would be down
+early, and hastened his own dressing in consequence. He found her
+waiting alone in the drawing-room before a regal fire. She wore a
+splendid star of diamonds in her dark hair. It sparkled in a thousand
+colours as she turned. Her dress was black, unrelieved by any ornament.
+
+"Cynthia," he said, "you are exquisite!"
+
+The words burst from him almost involuntarily. She put out her hand to
+him with a gesture half of acknowledgment, half of protest.
+
+"I may be good to look at," she said, with a little whimsical smile.
+"But--I tell you, Jack--I feel a perfect reptile. It's heads I win,
+tails you lose; and--I just can't bear it."
+
+There was a catch in the high voice that was almost a sob. Babbacombe
+took her hand and held it.
+
+"My dear," he said, "it's nothing of the sort. You have done me the very
+great honour of giving me your full confidence, and I won't have you
+abusing yourself for it."
+
+She shook her head. "I hate myself--there! And--and I'm frightened too.
+Jack, if you want me to marry you--you had better ask me now. I won't
+refuse you."
+
+He looked her closely in the eyes. "No, Cynthia," he said very gravely.
+
+"I am not laughing," she protested.
+
+He smiled a little. "It would be easier for me if you were," he said.
+"No, we will go through with this since we have begun. And you needn't
+be scared. He is hardly a ladies' man, according to my judgment, but he
+is not a bounder. I haven't asked him to meet you to-night. I thought it
+better not. In fact, I----"
+
+He broke off at the sound of a step behind him. With a start Cynthia
+turned.
+
+A short, thick-set man in riding-dress was walking up the room.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said formally, halting a few paces from
+Babbacombe. "I have been waiting for you in the library for the last
+hour. I sent you a message, but I conclude it was not delivered. Can I
+speak to you for a few seconds on a matter of business?"
+
+He spoke with his eyes fixed steadily upon Babbacombe's face, ignoring
+the woman's presence as if he had not even seen her.
+
+Babbacombe was momentarily disconcerted. He glanced at Cynthia before
+replying; and instantly, in her quick, gracious way, she came forward
+with extended hand.
+
+"Why, Mr. West," she said, "don't you know me? I'm Cynthia Mortimer--a
+very old friend of yours. And I'm very glad to meet you again."
+
+There was a quiver as of laughter in her words. The confidence of her
+action compelled some species of response. West took the outstretched
+hand for a single instant; but his eyes, meeting hers, held no
+recognition.
+
+"I am afraid," he said stonily, "that your memory is better than mine."
+
+It was a check that would have disheartened many women; not so Cynthia
+Mortimer.
+
+She opened her eyes wide for a second, the next quite openly she laughed
+at him.
+
+"You are not a bit cleverer than you used to be," she said. "But I
+rather like you for it all the same. Come, Mr. West, I'm sure you will
+make an effort when I tell you that I want to be remembered. You once
+did a big thing for me which I have never forgotten--which I never shall
+forget."
+
+West was frowning. "You have made a mistake," he said briefly.
+
+She laughed again, softly, audaciously. There was a delicate flush on
+her face, and her eyes were very bright.
+
+"No, Mr. Nat Verney West," she said, sinking her voice. "I'm a lot
+cleverer than you think, and I don't make mistakes of that sort."
+
+He shrugged his shoulders, and was silent. She was laughing still.
+
+"Why can't we begin where we left off?" she asked ingenuously. "Back
+numbers are so dull, and we were long past this stage anyway. Lord
+Babbacombe," appealing suddenly to her host, "can't you persuade Mr.
+West to come to the third act? I always prefer to skip the second. And
+we finished the first long ago."
+
+Babbacombe came to her assistance with his courteous smile. "Miss
+Mortimer considers herself in your debt, Mr. West," he said. "I think
+you will hurt her feelings if you try to repudiate her obligation."
+
+"Yes, of course," laughed Cynthia. "It was a mighty big debt, and I have
+been wondering ever since how to get even with you. Oh, you needn't
+scowl. That doesn't hurt me at all. Do you know you haven't altered a
+mite, you funny English bulldog? Come, you know me now?"
+
+"Yes, I know you," West said. "But I think it is a pity that you have
+renewed your acquaintance with me, and the sooner you drop me again the
+better." He spoke briefly and very decidedly, and having thus expressed
+himself he turned to Babbacombe. "I am going to the library. Perhaps you
+will join me there at your convenience."
+
+With an abrupt bow to Cynthia, he turned to go. But instantly the high
+voice arrested him.
+
+"Mr. West!"
+
+He paused.
+
+"Mr. West!" she said again, her voice half-imperious, half-pleading.
+
+Reluctantly he faced round. She was waiting for him with a little smile
+quivering about her mouth. Her grey eyes met his with perfect composure.
+
+"I want to know," she said, in her softest drawl, "if it is for my sake
+or your own that you regret this renewal of acquaintance."
+
+"For yours, Miss Mortimer," he answered grimly.
+
+"That's very kind of you," she rejoined. "And why?"
+
+Again he gave that slight lift of the shoulders that she remembered so
+well.
+
+"You know the proverb about touching pitch?"
+
+"Some people like pitch," said Cynthia.
+
+"Not clean people," threw back West.
+
+"No?" she said. "Well, perhaps not. Anyway, it doesn't apply in this
+case. So I sha'n't drop you, Mr. West, thank you all the same!
+Good-night!"
+
+She offered him her hand with a gesture that was nothing short of regal.
+And he--because he could do no less--took it, gripped it, and went his
+way.
+
+"Isn't he rude?" murmured Cynthia; and she said it as if rudeness were
+the highest virtue a man could display.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+The early winter dusk was falling upon a world veiled in cold, drifting
+rain. Away in the distance where the castle stood, many lights had begun
+to glimmer. It was the cosy hour when sportsmen collect about the
+fireside with noisy talk of the day's achievements.
+
+The man who strode down the long, dark avenue towards the bailiff's
+house smiled bitterly to himself as he marked the growing illumination.
+It was four days since Cynthia Mortimer had extended to him the hand of
+friendship, and he had not seen her since. He was, in fact, studiously
+avoiding her, more studiously than he had ever avoided any one in his
+life before. His daily visits to the castle he now paid early in the
+morning, before Babbacombe himself was dressed, long before any of the
+guests were stirring. And his refusal either to dine at the castle or to
+join the sportsmen during the day was so prompt and so emphatic that
+Babbacombe had refrained from pressing his invitation.
+
+Not a word had passed between them upon the subject of Cynthia's
+recognition. West adhered strictly to business during his brief
+interviews with his chief. The smallest digression on Babbacombe's part
+he invariably ignored as unworthy of his attention, till even
+Babbacombe, with all his courtly consideration for others, began to
+regard him as a mere automaton, and almost to treat him as such.
+
+Had he realised in the faintest degree what West was enduring at that
+time, his heart must have warmed to the man, despite his repellent
+exterior. But he had no means of realising.
+
+The rust of twelve bitter years had corroded the bolts of that closed
+door behind which the swindler hid his lonely soul, and it was not in
+the power of any man to move them.
+
+So grimly he went his silent way, cynical, as only those can be to whom
+the best thing in life has been offered too late; proud, also, after his
+curious, iron-clad fashion, refusing sternly to bear a lance again in
+that field which had witnessed his dishonour.
+
+He knew very well what those twinkling lights denoted. He could almost
+hear the clatter round the tea-table, the witless jests of the
+youngsters, the careless laughter of the women, the trivial, merry
+nonsense that was weaving another hour of happiness into the golden
+skein of happy hours. Contemptible, of course! Vanity of vanities! But
+how infinitely precious is even such vanity as this to those who stand
+outside!
+
+The rain was beginning to patter through the trees. It would be a wet
+night. With his collar turned up to his ears, he trudged forward. He
+cared little for the rain. For twelve long years he had lived an outdoor
+life.
+
+There were no lights visible in his own abode. The old woman who kept
+his house was doubtless gossiping with some crony up at the castle.
+
+With his hand on the garden gate, he looked back at its distant, shining
+front. Then, with a shrug, as if impatient with himself for lingering,
+he turned to walk up the short, flagged pathway that led to his own
+door.
+
+At the same instant a cry of pain--a woman's cry--came sharply through
+the dripping stillness of the trees. He turned back swiftly, banging the
+gate behind him.
+
+A long slope rose, tree-covered, from the other side of the road. He
+judged the sound to have come from that direction, and he hurried
+towards it with swinging strides. Reaching the deep shadow, he paused,
+peering upwards.
+
+At once a voice he knew called to him, but in such accents of agony that
+he hardly recognised it.
+
+"Oh, come and help me! I'm here--caught in a trap! I can't move!"
+
+In a moment he was crashing through the undergrowth with the furious
+recklessness of a wild animal.
+
+"I am coming! Keep still!" he shouted as he went.
+
+He found her crouched in a tiny hollow close to a narrow footpath that
+ran through the wood. She was on her knees, but she turned a deathly
+face up to him as he reached her. She was sobbing like a child.
+
+"They are great iron teeth," she gasped, "fastened in my hand. Can you
+open them?"
+
+"Don't move!" he ordered, as he dropped down beside her.
+
+It was a poacher's trap, fortunately of a species with which he was
+acquainted. Her hand was fairly gripped between the iron jaws. He
+wondered with a set face if those cruel teeth had met in her delicate
+flesh.
+
+She screamed as he forced it open, and fell back shuddering,
+half-fainting, while he lifted her torn hand and examined it in the
+failing light.
+
+It was bleeding freely, but not violently, and he saw with relief that
+the larger veins had escaped. He wrapped his handkerchief round it, and
+spoke:
+
+"Come!" he said. "My house is close by. It had better be bathed at
+once."
+
+"Yes," she assented shakily.
+
+"Don't cry!" he said, with blunt kindliness.
+
+"I can't help it," whispered Cynthia.
+
+He helped her to her feet, but she trembled so much that he put his arm
+about her.
+
+"It's only a stone's throw away," he said.
+
+She went with him without question. She seemed dazed with pain.
+
+Silently he led her down to his dark abode.
+
+"I'm giving you a lot of trouble," she murmured, as they entered.
+
+To which he made gruff reply:
+
+"It's worse for you than for me!"
+
+He put her into an easy chair, lighted a lamp, and departed for a basin
+of water.
+
+When he returned, she had so far mastered herself as to be able to smile
+at him through her tears.
+
+"I know I'm a drivelling idiot to cry!" she said, her voice high and
+tremulous. "But I never felt so sick before!"
+
+"Don't apologise," said West briefly. "I know."
+
+He bathed the injury with the utmost tenderness, while she sat and
+watched his stern face.
+
+"My!" she said suddenly, with a little, shaky laugh. "You are being very
+good to me, but why do you frown like that?"
+
+He glanced at her with those piercing eyes of his.
+
+"How did you do it?"
+
+The colour came into her white face.
+
+"I--was trying to spring the trap," she said, eyeing him doubtfully. "I
+didn't like to think of one of those cute little rabbits getting
+caught."
+
+"Yes, but how did you manage to get your hand in the way?" said West.
+
+She considered this problem for a little.
+
+"I guess I can't explain that mystery to you," she said, at length. "You
+see, I'm only a woman, and women often do things that are very foolish."
+
+West's silence seemed to express tacit agreement with this assertion.
+
+"Anyway," she resumed, making a wry face, "it's done. You are not vexed
+because I made such a fuss?"
+
+There was an odd wistfulness in her tone. West, busy bandaging, did not
+raise his eyes.
+
+"I don't blame you for that," he said. "It must have hurt you
+infernally! If you take my advice, you will show it to a doctor."
+
+She screwed her face up a second time.
+
+"To please you, Mr. West?"
+
+"No," he responded curtly. "As a sensible precaution."
+
+"And if I don't happen to be remarkable for sense?" she suggested.
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Yes, I know," said Cynthia. "You say that to everything. It's getting
+rather monotonous. And I'm sure I'm very patient. You'll grant me that,
+at least?"
+
+He turned his ice-blue eyes upon her.
+
+"I am not good at paying compliments, Miss Mortimer," he said cynically.
+"Twelve years in prison have rusted all my little accomplishments."
+
+She met his look with a smile, though her lips were quivering still.
+
+"My! What a pity!" she said. "Has your heart got rusty, too?"
+
+"Very," said West shortly.
+
+"Can't you rub it off?" she questioned.
+
+He uttered his ironic laugh.
+
+"There wouldn't be anything left if I did."
+
+"No?" she said whimsically. "Well, give it to me, and let me see what I
+can do!"
+
+His eyes fell away from her, and the grim line of his jaw hardened
+perceptibly.
+
+"That would be too hard a job even for you!" he said.
+
+She rose and put out her free hand to him. Her eyes were very soft and
+womanly. A quaint little smile yet hovered about her lips.
+
+"I guess I'll have a try," she said gently.
+
+He did not touch her hand, nor would he again meet her eyes.
+
+"A hopeless task, I am afraid," he said. "And utterly unprofitable to
+all concerned. I am not a deserving object for your charity."
+
+She laughed a trifle breathlessly.
+
+"Say, Mr. West, couldn't you put that into words of one syllable? You
+try, and perhaps then I'll listen to you, and give you my views as
+well."
+
+But West remained rigorously unresponsive. It was as if he were thinking
+of other things.
+
+Cynthia uttered a little sigh and turned to go.
+
+"Good-bye, Mr. West!" she said.
+
+He went with her to the door.
+
+"Shall I walk back with you?" he asked formally.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No. I'm better now, and it's quite light still beyond the trees.
+Good-bye, and--thank you!"
+
+"Good-bye!" he said.
+
+He followed her to the gate, opened it for her, and stood there watching
+till he saw her emerge from the shadow cast by the overarching trees.
+Then--for he knew that the rest of the journey was no more than a few
+minutes' easy walk--he turned back into the house, and shut himself in.
+
+Entering the room he had just quitted, he locked the door, and there he
+remained for a long, long time.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+It was not till she descended to dinner that Cynthia's injured hand was
+noticed.
+
+She resolutely made light of it to all sympathisers but it was plain to
+Babbacombe, at least, that it gave her considerable pain.
+
+"Let me send for a doctor," he whispered, as she finally passed his
+chair.
+
+But she shook her head with a smile.
+
+"No, no. It will be all right in the morning."
+
+But when he saw her in the morning, he knew at once that this prophecy
+had not been fulfilled. She met his anxious scrutiny with a smile
+indeed, but her heavy eyes belied it. He knew that she had spent a
+sleepless night.
+
+"It wasn't my hand that kept me awake," she protested, when he charged
+her with this.
+
+But Babbacombe was dissatisfied.
+
+"Do see a doctor. I am sure it ought to be properly dressed," he urged.
+"I'll take you myself in the motor, if you will."
+
+She yielded at length to his persuasion, though plainly against her
+will, and an hour later they drove off together, leaving the rest of the
+party to follow the hounds.
+
+At the park gate they overtook West, walking swiftly. He raised his hat
+as they went by, but did not so much as look at Cynthia.
+
+A sudden silence fell upon her, and it was not till some minutes had
+passed that she broke it.
+
+"Shall I tell you what kept me awake last night, Jack?" she said then.
+"I think you have a right to know."
+
+He glanced at her, encountering one of those smiles, half-sad,
+half-humorous, that he knew so well. "You will do exactly as you
+please," he said.
+
+"You're generous," she responded. "Well, I'll tell you. I was busy
+burying my poor foolish little romance."
+
+A deep glow showed suddenly upon Babbacombe's face. He was driving
+slowly, but he kept his eyes fixed steadily upon the stretch of muddy
+road ahead.
+
+"Is it dead, then?" he asked, his voice very low.
+
+She made a quaint gesture as of putting something from her.
+
+"Yes, quite; and buried decently without any fuss. The blinds are up
+again, and I don't want any condolences. I'm going out into the sun,
+Jack. I'm going to live."
+
+"And what about me?" said Babbacombe.
+
+She turned in her quick way, and laid her hand upon his knee.
+
+"Yes, I've been thinking about you. I am going back to London to-morrow,
+and the first thing I shall do will be to find you a really good wife."
+
+"Thank you," he said, smiling a little. "But you needn't go to London
+for that."
+
+"Oh, shucks!" said Cynthia, colouring deeply. "There's more than one
+woman in the world, Jack."
+
+"Not for me," he said quietly.
+
+She was silent for a space. Then:
+
+"And if that one woman is such a sublime fool, such an ungrateful little
+beast, as not to be able to--to love you as you deserve to be loved?"
+she suggested, a slight break in her voice.
+
+He turned his head at that, and looked for an instant straight into her
+eyes.
+
+"She is still the one woman, dear," he said, very tenderly. "Always
+remember that."
+
+She shook her head in protest. Her lips were quivering too much for
+speech.
+
+Babbacombe drove slowly on in silence.
+
+At last the hand upon his knee pressed slightly.
+
+"You can have her if you like, Jack," Cynthia murmured. "She's going
+mighty cheap."
+
+He freed his hand for a moment to grasp hers.
+
+"I shall follow her to London," he said, "and woo her there."
+
+She smiled at him gratefully and began to speak of other things.
+
+The doctor was out, to her evident relief. Babbacombe wanted to go in
+search of another, but she would not be persuaded.
+
+"I'm sure it will be all right to-morrow. If not, I shall be in town,
+and I can go to a doctor there. Please don't make a fuss about it. It's
+too absurd."
+
+Reluctantly he abandoned the argument, and they followed the hounds in
+the motor instead.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+Babbacombe's guests departed upon the following day. Cynthia was among
+the first to leave. With a flushed face and sparkling eyes she made her
+farewells, and even Babbacombe, closely as he observed her, detected no
+hint of strain in her demeanour.
+
+Returning from the station in the afternoon after speeding some of his
+guests, he dropped into the local bank to change a cheque. The manager,
+with whom he was intimate, chanced to be present, and led him off to his
+own room.
+
+"By the way," he said, "we were just going to send you notice of an
+overdraft. That last big cheque of yours has left you a deficit."
+
+Babbacombe stared at him. He had barely a fortnight before deposited a
+large sum of money at the bank, and he had not written any large cheque
+since.
+
+"I don't understand," he said. "What cheque?"
+
+The manager looked at him sharply.
+
+"Why, the cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds, which your agent
+presented yesterday," he said. "It bore your signature and was dated the
+previous day. You wrote it, I suppose?"
+
+Babbacombe was still staring blankly, but at the sudden question he
+pulled himself together.
+
+"Oh, that! Yes, to be sure. Careless of me. I gave him a blank cheque
+for the Millsand estate expenses some weeks ago. It must have been
+that."
+
+But though he spoke with a smiling face, his heart had gone suddenly
+cold with doubt. He knew full well that the expenses of which he spoke
+had been paid by West long before.
+
+He refused to linger, and went out again after a few commonplaces,
+feeling as if he had been struck a stunning blow between the eyes.
+
+Driving swiftly back through the park, he recovered somewhat from the
+shock. There must be--surely there would be!--some explanation.
+
+Reaching West's abode he stopped the motor and descended. West was not
+in and he decided to wait for him, chafing at the delay.
+
+Standing at the window, he presently saw the man coming up the path. He
+moved slowly, with a certain heaviness, as though weary.
+
+As he opened the outer door, Babbacombe opened the inner and met him in
+the hall.
+
+"I dropped in to have a word with you," he said.
+
+West paused momentarily before shutting the door. His face was in
+shadow.
+
+"I thought so," he said. "I saw the motor."
+
+Babbacombe turned back into the room. He was grappling with the hardest
+task he had ever had to tackle. West followed him in absolute silence.
+
+With an immense effort, Babbacombe spoke:
+
+"I was at the bank just now. I went to get some cash. I was told that my
+account was overdrawn. I can't understand it. There seems to have been
+some mistake."
+
+He paused, but West said nothing whatever. The light was beginning to
+fail, but his expressionless face was clearly visible. It held neither
+curiosity nor dismay.
+
+"I was told," Babbacombe said again, "that you cashed a cheque of mine
+yesterday for two hundred and fifty pounds. Is that so?"
+
+"It is," said West curtly.
+
+"And yet," Babbacombe proceeded, "I understood from you that the
+Millsand estate business was settled long ago."
+
+"It was," said West.
+
+"Then this cheque--this cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds--where
+did it come from, West?" There was a note of entreaty in Babbacombe's
+voice.
+
+West jerked up his head at the sound. It was a gesture openly
+contemptuous. "Can't you guess?" he said.
+
+Babbacombe stiffened at the callous question. "You refuse to answer me?"
+he asked.
+
+"That is my answer," said West.
+
+"I am to understand then that you have robbed me--that you have forged
+my signature to do so--that you--great heavens, man"--Babbacombe's
+amazement burst forth irresistibly--"it's incredible! Are you mad, I
+wonder? You can't have done it in your sober senses. You would never
+have been so outrageously clumsy."
+
+West shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I am quite sane--only a little out of practice."
+
+His words were like a shower of icy water. Babbacombe contracted
+instantly.
+
+"You wish me to believe that you did this thing in cold blood--that you
+deliberately meant to do it?"
+
+"Certainly I meant to do it," said West.
+
+"Why?" said Babbacombe.
+
+Again he gave the non-committal shrug, no more. There was almost a
+fiendish look in his eyes, as if somewhere in his soul a demon leaped
+and jeered.
+
+"Tell me why," Babbacombe persisted.
+
+"Why should I tell you?" said West.
+
+Babbacombe hesitated for an instant; then gravely, kindly, he made
+reply:
+
+"For the sake of the friendship that has been between us. I had not the
+faintest idea that you were in need of money. Why couldn't you tell me?"
+
+West made a restless movement. For the first time his hard stare shifted
+from Babbacombe's face.
+
+"Why go into these details?" he questioned harshly. "I warned you at the
+outset what to expect. I am a swindler to the backbone. The sooner you
+bundle me back to where I came from, the better. I sha'n't run away this
+time."
+
+"I shall not prosecute," Babbacombe said.
+
+"You will not!" West blazed into sudden ferocity. He had the look of a
+wild animal at bay. "You are to prosecute!" he exclaimed violently. "Do
+you hear? I won't have any more of your damned charity! I'll go down
+into my own limbo and stay there, without let or hindrance from you or
+any other man. If you are fool enough to offer me another chance, as you
+call it, I am not fool enough to take it. The only thing I'll take from
+you is justice. Understand?"
+
+"You wish me to prosecute?" Babbacombe said.
+
+"I do!"
+
+The words came with passionate force. West stood in almost a threatening
+attitude. His eyes shone in the gathering dusk like the eyes of a
+crouching beast--a beast that has been sorely wounded, but that will
+fight to the last.
+
+The man's whole demeanour puzzled Babbacombe--his total lack of shame or
+penitence, his savagery of resentment. There was something behind it
+all--something he could not fathom, that baffled him, however he sought
+to approach it. In days gone by he had wondered if the fellow had a
+heart. That wonder was still in his mind. He himself had utterly failed
+to reach it if it existed. And Cynthia--even Cynthia--had failed. Yet,
+somehow, vaguely, he had a feeling that neither he nor Cynthia had
+understood.
+
+"I don't know what to say to you, West," he said at length.
+
+"Why say anything?" said West.
+
+"Because," Babbacombe said slowly, "I don't believe--I can't
+believe--that simply for the sake of a paltry sum like that you would
+have risked so much. You could have swindled me in a thousand ways
+before now, and done it easily, too, with small chance of being found
+out. But this--this was bound to be discovered sooner or later. You must
+have known that. Then why, why in heaven's name did you do it? Apart
+from every other consideration, it was so infernally foolish. It wasn't
+like you to do a thing like that." He paused, then suddenly clapped an
+urgent hand upon the swindler's shoulder. "West," he said, "I'll swear
+that you never played this game with me for your own advantage. Tell the
+truth, man! Be honest with me in heaven's name! Give me the chance of
+judging you fairly! It isn't much to ask."
+
+West drew back sharply.
+
+"Why should I be honest with you?" he demanded. "You have never been
+honest with me from the very outset. I owe you nothing in that line, at
+all events."
+
+He spoke passionately still, yet not wholly without restraint. He was as
+a man fighting desperate odds, and guarding some precious possession
+while he fought. But these words of his were something of a revelation
+to Babbacombe. He changed his ground to pursue it.
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"You know very well!" West flung the words from between set teeth, and
+with them he abruptly turned his back upon Babbacombe, lodging his arms
+upon the mantelpiece. "I am not going into details on that point or any
+other. But the fact is there, and you know it. You have never been
+absolutely straight in your dealings with me. I knew you weren't. I
+always knew it. But how crooked you were I did not know till lately. If
+you had been any other man, I believe I should have given you a broken
+head for your pains. But you are so damnably courteous, as well as such
+an unutterable fool!" He broke off with a hard laugh and a savage kick
+at the coals in front of him. "I couldn't see myself doing it," he said,
+"humbug as you are."
+
+"And so you took this method of making me suffer?" Babbacombe suggested,
+his voice very quiet and even.
+
+"You may say so if it satisfies you," said West, without turning.
+
+"It does not satisfy me!" There was a note of sternness in the steady
+rejoinder. "It satisfies me so little that I insist upon an explanation.
+Turn round and tell me what you mean."
+
+But West stood motionless and silent, as though hewn in granite.
+
+Babbacombe waited with that in his face which very few had ever seen
+there. At last, as West remained stubborn, he spoke again:
+
+"I suppose you have found out my original reason for giving you a fresh
+start in life, and you resent my having kept it a secret."
+
+"I resent the reason." West tossed the words over his shoulder as though
+he uttered them against his will.
+
+"Are you sure even now that you know what that reason was?" Babbacombe
+asked.
+
+"I am sure of one thing!" West spoke quickly, vehemently, as a man
+shaken by some inner storm. "Had I been in your place--had the woman I
+wanted to marry asked me to bring back into her life some worthless
+scamp to whom she had taken a sentimental fancy when she was scarcely
+out of the schoolroom, I'd have seen him damned first, and myself
+too--had I been in your place. I would have refused pointblank, even if
+it had meant the end of everything."
+
+"I believe you would," Babbacombe said. The sternness had gone out of
+his voice, and a certain weariness had taken its place. "But you haven't
+quite hit the truth of the matter. Since you have guessed so much you
+had better know the whole. I did not do this thing by request. I
+undertook it voluntarily. If I had not done so, some other
+means--possibly some less discreet means--would have been employed to
+gain the same end."
+
+"I see!" West's head was bent. He seemed to be closely examining the
+marble on which his arms rested. "Well," he said abruptly, "you've told
+me the truth. I will do the same to you. This business has got to end. I
+have done my part towards bringing that about. And now you must do
+yours. You will have to prosecute, whether you like it or not. It is the
+only way."
+
+"What?" Babbacombe said sharply.
+
+West turned at last. The glare had gone out of his eyes--they were cold
+and still as an Arctic sky.
+
+"I think we understand one another," he said. "I see you don't like your
+job. But you'll stick to it, for all that. There must be an end--a
+painless end if possible, without regrets. She has got to realise that
+I'm a swindler to the marrow of my bones, that I couldn't turn to and
+lead a decent, honourable life--even for love of her."
+
+The words fell grimly, but there was no mockery in the steely eyes, no
+feeling of any sort. They looked full at Babbacombe with unflickering
+steadiness, that was all.
+
+Babbacombe listened in the silence of a great amazement. Vaguely he had
+groped after the truth, but he had never even dimly imagined this. It
+struck him dumb--this sudden glimpse of a man's heart which till that
+moment had been so strenuously hidden from him.
+
+"My dear fellow," he said at last; "but this is insanity!"
+
+"Perhaps," West returned, unmoved. "They say every man has his mania.
+This is mine, and it is a very harmless one. It won't hurt you to humour
+it."
+
+"But--good heavens!--have you thought of her?" Babbacombe exclaimed.
+
+"I am thinking of her only," West answered quietly. "And I am asking you
+to do the same, both now and after you have married her."
+
+"And send you to perdition to secure her peace of mind? A thousand
+times--no!" Babbacombe turned, and began to pace the room as though his
+feelings were too much for him. But very soon he stopped in front of
+West, and spoke with grave resolution. "Look here," he said, "I think
+you know that her happiness is more to me than anything else in the
+world, except my honour. To you it seems to be even more than that. And
+now listen, for as man to man I tell you the truth. You hold her
+happiness in the hollow of your hand!"
+
+West's face remained as a mask; his eyes never varied.
+
+"You can change all that," he said.
+
+Babbacombe shook his head.
+
+"I am not even sure that I shall try."
+
+"What then?" said West. "Are you suggesting that the woman you love
+should marry an ex-convict--a notorious swindler, a blackguard?"
+
+"I think," Babbacombe answered firmly, "that she ought to be allowed to
+decide that point."
+
+"Allowed to ruin herself without interference," substituted West,
+sneering faintly. "Well, I don't agree with you, and I shall never give
+her the opportunity. You won't move me from that if you argue till
+Doomsday. So, in heaven's name, take what the gods offer, and leave me
+alone. Marry her. Give her all a good woman ever wants--a happy home, a
+husband who worships her, and children for her to worship, and you will
+soon find that I have dropped below the horizon."
+
+He swung round again to the fire, and drove the poker hard into the
+coals.
+
+"And find another agent as soon as possible," he said; "a respectable
+one this time, one who won't let you down when you are not looking, who
+won't call you a fool when you make mistakes--in short, a gentleman.
+There are plenty of them about. But they are not to be found in the
+world's rubbish heap. There's nothing but filth and broken crockery
+there."
+
+He ended with his brief, cynical laugh, and Babbacombe knew that further
+discussion would be vain. For good or ill the swindler had made his
+decision, and he realised that no effort of his would alter it. To
+attempt to do so would be to beat against a stone wall--a struggle in
+which he might possibly hurt himself, but which would make no difference
+whatever to the wall.
+
+Reluctantly he abandoned the argument, and prepared to take his
+departure.
+
+But later, as he drove home, the man's words recurred to him and dwelt
+long in his memory. Their bitterness seemed to cloak something upon
+which no eye had ever looked--a regret unspeakable, a passionate
+repentance that found no place.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+"I have just discovered of whom it is that your very unpleasant agent
+reminds me," observed Lady Cottesbrook at the breakfast-table on the
+following morning. "It flashed upon me suddenly. He is the very image of
+that nasty person, Nat Verney, who swindled such a crowd of people a few
+years ago. I was present at part of his trial, and a more callous,
+thoroughly insolent creature I never saw. I suppose he is still in
+prison. I forget exactly what the sentence was, but I know it was a long
+one. I should think this man must be his twin-brother, Jack. I never saw
+a more remarkable likeness."
+
+Babbacombe barely glanced up from his letter. "You are always finding
+that the people you don't like resemble criminals, Ursula," he said,
+with something less than his usual courtesy. "Did you say you were
+leaving by the eleven-fifty? I think I shall come with you."
+
+"My dear Jack, how you change! I thought you were going to stay down
+here for another week."
+
+"I was," he answered. "But I have had a line from Cynthia to tell me
+that her hand is poisoned from that infernal trap. It may be very
+serious. It probably is, or she would not have written."
+
+That note of Cynthia's had in fact roused his deepest anxiety. He had
+fancied all along that she had deliberately made light of the injury.
+Soon after three o'clock he was in town, and he hastened forthwith to
+Cynthia's flat in Mayfair.
+
+He found her on a couch in her dainty boudoir, lying alone before the
+fire. Her eyes shone like stars in her white face as she greeted him.
+
+"It was just dear of you to come so soon," she said. "I kind of thought
+you would. I'm having a really bad time for once, and I thought you'd
+like to know."
+
+"Tell me about it," he said, sitting down beside her.
+
+Her left hand lay in his for a few moments, but after a little she
+softly drew it away. Her right was in a sling.
+
+"There's hardly anything to tell," she said. "Only my arm is bad right
+up to the shoulder, and the doctor is putting things on the wound so
+that it sha'n't leave off hurting night or day. I dreamt I was Dante
+last night. But no, I won't tell you about that. It was too horrible.
+I've never been really sick before, Jack. It frightens me some. I sent
+for you because I felt I wanted--a friend to talk to. It was
+outrageously selfish of me."
+
+"It was the kindest thing you could do," Babbacombe said.
+
+"Ah, but you mustn't misunderstand." A note of wistfulness sounded in
+the high voice. "You won't misunderstand, will you, Jack? I only want--a
+friend."
+
+"You needn't be afraid, Cynthia," he said. "I shall never attempt to be
+anything else to you without your free consent."
+
+"Thank you," she murmured. "I know I'm very mean. But I had such a bad
+night. I thought that all the devils in hell were jeering at me because
+I had told you my romance was dead. Oh, Jack! it was a great big lie,
+and it's come home to roost. I can't get rid of it. It won't die."
+
+He heard the quiver of tears in her confession, and set his teeth.
+
+"My dear," he said, "don't fret about that. I knew it at the bottom of
+my heart."
+
+She reached out her hand to him again. "I hate myself for treating you
+like this," she whispered. "But I--I'm lonely, and I can't help it.
+You--you shouldn't be so kind."
+
+"Ah, child, don't grudge me your friendship," he said. "It is the
+dearest thing I have."
+
+"It's so hard," wailed Cynthia, "that I can give you so little, when I
+would so gladly give all if I could."
+
+"You are not to blame yourself for that," he answered steadily. "You
+loved each other before I ever met you."
+
+"Loved each other!" she said. "Do you really mean that, Jack?"
+
+He hesitated. He had not intended to say so much.
+
+"Jack," she urged piteously, "then you think he really cares?"
+
+"Don't you know it, Cynthia?" he asked, in a low voice.
+
+"My heart knows it," she said brokenly. "But my mind isn't sure. Do you
+know, Jack, I almost proposed to him because I felt so sure he cared.
+And he--he just looked beyond me, as if--as if he didn't even hear."
+
+"He thinks he isn't good enough for you," Babbacombe said, with an
+effort. "I don't think he will ever be persuaded to act otherwise. He
+seems to consider himself hopelessly handicapped."
+
+"What makes you say that?" whispered Cynthia.
+
+He had not meant to tell her. It was against his will that he did so;
+but he felt impelled to do it. For her peace of mind it seemed
+imperative that she should understand.
+
+And so, in a few words, he told her of West's abortive attempt to plunge
+a second time into the black depths from which he had so recently
+escaped, of the man's absolutely selfless devotion, of his rigid refusal
+to suffer even her love for him to move him from this attitude.
+
+Cynthia listened with her bright eyes fixed unswervingly upon
+Babbacombe's face. She made no comment of any sort when he ended. She
+only pressed his hand.
+
+He remained with her for some time, and when he got up to go at length,
+it was with manifest reluctance. He lingered beside her after he had
+spoken his farewell, as though he still had something to say.
+
+"You will come again soon," said Cynthia.
+
+"To-morrow," he answered. "And--Cynthia, there is just one thing I want
+to say."
+
+She looked up at him questioningly.
+
+"Only this," he said. "You sent for me because you wanted a friend. I
+want you from now onward to treat me and to think of me in that light
+only. As I now see things, I do not think I shall ever be anything more
+to you than just that. Remember it, won't you, and make use of me in any
+way that you wish. I will gladly do anything."
+
+The words went straight from his heart to hers. Cynthia's eyes filled
+with sudden tears. She reached out and clasped his hand very closely.
+
+"Dear Jack," she said softly; "you're just the best friend I have in the
+world, and I sha'n't forget it--ever."
+
+He called early on the following day, and received the information that
+she was keeping her bed by the doctor's orders. Later in the day he went
+again, and found that the doctor was with her. He decided to wait, and
+paced up and down the drawing-room for nearly an hour. Eventually the
+doctor came.
+
+Babbacombe knew him slightly, and was not surprised when, at sight of
+him in the doorway, the doctor turned aside at once, and entered the
+room.
+
+"Miss Mortimer told me I should probably see you," he said, "and if I
+did so, she desired me to tell you everything. I am sorry to say that I
+think very seriously of the injury. I have just been persuading her to
+go into a private nursing-home. This is no place to be ill in, and I
+shall have to perform a slight operation to-morrow which will
+necessitate the use of an anæsthetic."
+
+"An operation!" Babbacombe exclaimed, aghast.
+
+"It is absolutely imperative," the doctor said, "to get at the seat of
+the poison. I am making every effort to prevent the mischief spreading
+any further. Should the operation fail, no power on earth will save her
+hand. It may mean the arm as well."
+
+Babbacombe listened to further explanations, sick at heart.
+
+"When do you propose to move her?" he asked presently.
+
+"At once. I am going now to make arrangements."
+
+"May I go in and see her if she will admit me?"
+
+"I don't advise it to-night. She is excited and overstrung. To-morrow,
+perhaps, if all goes well. Come round to my house at two o'clock, and I
+will let you know."
+
+But Babbacombe did not see her the next day, for it was found advisable
+to keep her absolutely quiet. The doctor was very reticent, but he
+gathered from his manner that he entertained very grave doubts as to the
+success of his treatment.
+
+On the day following he telephoned to Babbacombe to meet him at the home
+in the afternoon.
+
+Babbacombe arrived before the time appointed, and spent half an hour in
+sick suspense, awaiting the doctor's coming.
+
+The latter entered at last, and greeted him with a serious face.
+
+"I am going to let you see Miss Mortimer," he said. "What I feared from
+the outset has taken place. The mischief was neglected too long at the
+beginning. There is nothing for it but amputation of the hand. And it
+must be performed without delay."
+
+Babbacombe said something inarticulate that resolved itself with an
+effort into:
+
+"Have you told her?"
+
+"Yes, I have." The doctor's voice was stern. "And she absolutely refuses
+to consent to it. I have given her till to-morrow morning to make up her
+mind. After that--" He paused a moment, and looked Babbacombe straight
+in the face. "After that," he said, with emphasis, "it will be too
+late."
+
+When Babbacombe entered Cynthia's presence a few minutes later, he
+walked as a man dazed. He found her lying among pillows, with the
+sunlight streaming over her, transforming her brown hair into a mass of
+sparkling gold. The old quick, gracious smile welcomed him as he bent
+over her. There were deep shadows about her eyes, but they were
+wonderfully bright. The hand she gave him was as cold as ice, despite
+the flush upon her cheeks.
+
+"You have been told?" she questioned. "Yes, I see you have. Now, don't
+preach to me, Jack--dear Jack. It's too shocking to talk about. Can you
+believe it? I can't. I've always been so clever with my hands. Have you
+a pencil? I want you to take down a wire for me."
+
+In her bright, imperious way, she dominated him. It was well-nigh
+impossible to realise that she was dangerously ill.
+
+He sat down beside her with pencil and paper.
+
+"Address it to Mr. West," said Cynthia, her eyes following his fingers.
+"Yes. And now put just this: 'I am sick, and wanting you. Will you
+come?--Cynthia.' And write the address. Do you think he'll come, Jack?"
+
+"Let me add 'Urgent,'" he said.
+
+"No, Jack. You are not to. Add nothing. If he doesn't come for that, he
+will never come at all. And I sha'n't wait for him," she added under her
+breath.
+
+She seemed impatient for him to depart and despatch the message, but
+when he took his leave her eyes followed him with a wistful gratitude
+that sent a thrill to his heart. She had taken him at his word, and had
+made him her friend in need.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+"If he doesn't come for that, he will never come at all."
+
+Over and over Cynthia whispered the words to herself as she lay, with
+her wide, shining eyes upon the door, waiting. She was a gambler who had
+staked all on the final throw, and she was watching, weak and ill as she
+was after long suffering, watching restlessly, persistently, for the
+result of that last great venture. Surely he would come--surely--surely!
+
+Once she spoke imperiously to the nurse.
+
+"If a gentleman named West calls, I must see him at once, whatever the
+hour."
+
+The nurse raised no obstacle. Perhaps she realised that it would do more
+harm than good to thwart her patient's caprice.
+
+And so hour after hour Cynthia lay waiting for the answer to her
+message, and hour followed hour in slow, uneventful procession, bringing
+her neither comfort nor repose.
+
+At length the doctor came and offered her morphia, but she refused it,
+with feverish emphasis.
+
+"No, no, no! I don't want to sleep. I am expecting a friend."
+
+"Won't it do in the morning?" he said persuasively.
+
+Her grey eyes flashed eager inquiry up at him.
+
+"He is here?"
+
+The doctor nodded.
+
+"He has been here some time, but I hoped you would settle down. I want
+you to sleep."
+
+Sleep! Cynthia almost laughed. How inexplicably foolish were even the
+cleverest of men!
+
+"I will see him now," she said. "And, please, alone," as the doctor made
+a sign to the nurse.
+
+He moved away reluctantly, and again she almost laughed at his
+imbecility.
+
+But a minute later she had forgotten everything in the world save that
+upon which her eyes rested--a short, broad-shouldered man, clean-shaven,
+with piercing blue eyes that looked straight at her with
+something--something in their expression that made the heart within her
+leap and quiver like the strings of an instrument under a master hand.
+
+He came quietly to the bedside, and stood looking down upon her, not
+uttering a word.
+
+She stretched up her trembling hand.
+
+"I'm very glad to see you," she said weakly. "You got my message?
+It--it--I hope it didn't annoy you."
+
+"It didn't," said West.
+
+His voice was curt and strained. His fingers had closed very tightly
+upon her hand.
+
+"Sit down," murmured Cynthia. "No, don't let go. It helps me
+some to have you hold my hand. Mr. West, I've got to tell you
+something--something that will make you really angry. I'm rather
+frightened, too. It's because I'm sick. You--you must just make
+allowances."
+
+A light kindled in West's eyes that shone like a blue flame, but still
+he held himself rigid, inflexible as a figure hewn in granite.
+
+"Pray don't distress yourself, Miss Mortimer," he said stiffly.
+"Wouldn't it be wiser to wait till you are better before you go any
+further?"
+
+"I never shall be better," Cynthia rejoined, a tremor of passion in her
+voice, "I never shall go any further, unless you hear me out to-night."
+
+West frowned a little, but still that strange light shone in his steady
+eyes.
+
+"I am quite at your service," he said, "either now or at any future
+time. But if this interview should make you worse----"
+
+"Oh, shucks!" said Cynthia, with a ghostly little smile. "Don't talk
+through your hat, Mr. West!"
+
+West became silent. He was still holding her hand in a warm, close grasp
+that never varied.
+
+"Let's get to business," said Cynthia, with an effort to be brisk. "It
+begins with a confession. You know better than any one how I managed to
+hurt my hand so badly. But even you don't know everything. Even you
+never suspected that--that it wasn't an accident at all; that, in fact,
+I did it on purpose."
+
+She broke off for a moment, avoiding his eyes, but clinging tightly to
+his hand.
+
+"I did it," she went on breathlessly--"I did it because I heard you in
+the drive below, and I wanted to attract your attention. I couldn't see
+you, but I knew it was you. I was just going to spring the trap with my
+foot, and then--and then I heard you, and I stooped down--it came to me
+to do it, and I never stopped to think--I stooped down and put my hand
+in the way. I never thought--I never thought it would hurt so
+frightfully, or that it could come to this."
+
+She was crying as she ended, crying piteously; while West sat like a
+stone image, gazing at her.
+
+"Oh, do speak to me!" she sobbed. "Do say something! Do you know what
+they want to do? But I won't let them--I won't let them! It--it's too
+dreadful a thing to happen to a woman. I can't bear it. I won't bear it.
+It will be much easier to die. But you shall know the truth first."
+
+"Cynthia, stop!" It was West's voice at last, but not as she had ever
+heard it. It came from him hoarse and desperate, as though wrung by the
+extreme of torture. He had sunk to his knees by the bed. His face was
+nearer to hers than it had ever been before. "Don't cry!" he begged her
+huskily. "Don't cry! Why do you tell me this if it hurts you to tell
+me?"
+
+"Because I want you to know!" gasped Cynthia. "Wait! Let me finish! I
+wanted--to see--if--if you really cared for me. I thought--if you
+did--you wouldn't be able to go on pretending. But--but--you managed
+to--somehow--after all."
+
+She ended, battling with her tears; and West, the strong, the cold, the
+cynical, bowed his head upon her hand and groaned.
+
+"It was for--your own sake," he muttered brokenly, without looking up.
+
+"I know," whispered back Cynthia. "That was just what made it so
+impossible to bear. Because, you see, I cared, too."
+
+He was silent, breathing heavily.
+
+Cynthia watched his bent head wistfully, but she did not speak again
+till she had mastered her own weakness.
+
+"Mr. West," she said softly at length.
+
+He stirred, pressing her hand more tightly to his eyes.
+
+"I am going to tell you now," proceeded Cynthia, "just why I asked you
+to come to me. I suppose you know all about this trouble of mine--that I
+shall either die very soon, or else have to carry my arm in a sling for
+the rest of my life. Now that's where you come in. Would you--would you
+feel very badly if I died, I wonder?"
+
+He raised his head at that, and she saw his face as she had seen it once
+long ago--alert, vital, full of the passionate intensity of his love for
+her.
+
+"You sha'n't die!" he declared fiercely. "Who says you are going to
+die?"
+
+Cynthia's eyes fell before the sudden fire that blazed at her from his.
+"Unless I consent to be a cripple all my days," she said, with a curious
+timidity wholly unlike her usual dainty confidence.
+
+"Of course you will consent," West said, sweeping down her half-offered
+resistance with sheer, overmastering strength. "You'll face this thing
+like the brave woman you are. Good heavens! As if there were any
+choice!"
+
+"There is," Cynthia whispered, looking at him shyly, through lowered
+lids. "There is a choice. But it rests with you. Mr. West, if you want
+me to do this thing--if you really want me to, and it's a big thing to
+do, even for you--I'll do it. There! I'll do it! I'll go on living like
+a chopped worm for your sake. But--but--you'll have to do something for
+me in return. Now I wonder if you can guess what I'm hinting at?"
+
+West's face changed. The eagerness went out of it. Something of his
+habitual grimness of expression returned.
+
+Yet his voice was full of tenderness when he spoke.
+
+"Cynthia," he said very earnestly, "there is nothing on this earth that
+I will not do for you. But don't ask me to be the means of ruining you
+socially, of depriving you of all your friends, of degrading you to a
+position that would break your heart."
+
+A glimmer of amusement flashed across Cynthia's drawn face.
+
+"Oh!" she said, a little quiver in her voice. "You are funny, you men,
+dull as moles and blind as bats. My dear, there's only one person in
+this little universe who has the power to break my heart, and it isn't
+any fault of his that he didn't do it long ago. No, don't speak. There's
+nothing left for you to say. The petition is dismissed, but not the
+petitioner; so listen to me instead. I've a sentimental fancy to be able
+to have 'Mrs. Nat V. West' written on my tombstone in the event of my
+demise to-morrow. I want you to make arrangements for the same."
+
+"Cynthia!"
+
+The word was almost a cry, but she checked it, her fingers on his lips.
+
+"You great big silly!" she murmured, laughing weakly. "Where's your
+sense of humour? Can't you see I'm not going to die? But I'm going to be
+Mrs. Nat V. West all the same. Now, is that quite understood, I wonder?
+Because I don't want to cry any more--I'm tired."
+
+"You wish to marry me in the morning--before the operation?" West said,
+speaking almost under his breath.
+
+His face was close to hers. She looked him suddenly straight in the
+eyes.
+
+"Yes, just that," she told him softly. "I want--dear--I want to go to
+sleep, holding my husband's hand."
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+"It's a clear case of desertion," declared Cynthia imperturbably, two
+months later. "But never mind that now, Jack. How do you like my sling?
+Isn't it just the cutest thing in creation?"
+
+"You look splendid," Babbacombe said with warmth, but he surveyed her
+with slightly raised brows notwithstanding.
+
+She nodded brightly in response.
+
+"No, I'm not worrying any, I assure you. You don't believe me, I see. So
+here's something for you to read that will set your mind at rest."
+
+Babbacombe read, with a slowly clearing face. The note he held was in
+his agent's handwriting.
+
+     "I am leaving you to-day, for I feel, now you are well again, that
+     you will find it easier in my absence to consider very carefully
+     your position. Your marriage to me was simply an act of impulse. I
+     gave way in the matter because you were in no state to be thwarted.
+     But if, after consideration, you find that that act was a mistake,
+     dictated by weakness, and heaven knows what besides of generosity
+     and pity, something may yet be done to remedy it. It has never been
+     published, and, if you are content to lead a single life, no one
+     who matters need ever know that it took place. I am returning to my
+     work at Farringdean for the present. I am aware that you may find
+     some difficulty in putting your feelings in this matter into words.
+     If so, I shall understand your silence.
+
+     Yours,
+
+     "N. V. WEST."
+
+"Isn't he quaint?" said Cynthia, with a little gay grimace. "Now do you
+know what I'm going to do, Jack? I'm going to get a certain good friend
+of mine to drive me all the way to Farringdean in his motor. It's
+Sunday, you know, and all the fates conspire to make the trains
+impossible."
+
+"How soon do you wish to start?" asked Babbacombe.
+
+"Right away!" laughed Cynthia. "And if we don't get run in for exceeding
+the speed limit, we ought to be there by seven."
+
+It was as a matter of fact barely half-past six when Babbacombe turned
+the motor in at the great gates of Farringdean Park. A sound of
+church-bells came through the evening twilight. The trees of the avenue
+were still bare, but there was a misty suggestion of swelling buds in
+the saplings. The wind that softly rustled through them seemed to
+whisper a special secret to each.
+
+"I like those bells," murmured Cynthia. "They make one feel almost holy.
+Jack, you're not fretting over me?"
+
+"No, dear," said Babbacombe steadily.
+
+She squeezed his arm.
+
+"I'm so glad, for--honest Injun--I'm not worth it. Good-bye, then, dear
+Jack! Just drive straight away directly you've put me down. I shall find
+my own way in."
+
+He took her at her word as he always did, and, having deposited her at
+the gate under the trees that led to his bailiff's abode, he shot
+swiftly away into the gathering dusk without a single glance behind.
+
+West, entering his home a full hour later, heavy-footed, the inevitable
+cigarette between his lips, was surprised to discover, on hanging up his
+cap, a morsel of white pasteboard stuck jauntily into the glass of the
+hatstand. It seemed to fling him an airy challenge. He stooped to look.
+A lady's visiting-card! Mrs. Nat V. West!
+
+A deep flush rose suddenly in his weather-beaten face. He seized the
+card, and crushed it against his lips.
+
+But a few moments later, when he opened his dining-room door, there was
+no hint of emotion in his bearing. He bore himself with the rigidity of
+a man who knows he has a battle before him.
+
+The room was aglow with flickering firelight, and out of the glow a high
+voice came--a cheery, inconsequent voice.
+
+"Oh, here you are at last! Come right in and light the lamp. Did you see
+my card? Ah, I knew you would be sure to look at yourself directly you
+came in. There's nobody at home but me. I suppose your old woman's gone
+to church. I've been waiting for you such a while--twelve years and a
+bit. Just think of it."
+
+She was standing on the hearth waiting for him, but since he moved but
+slowly she stepped forward to meet him, her hand impetuously
+outstretched.
+
+He took it, held it closely, let it go.
+
+"We must talk things over," he said.
+
+"Splendid!" said Cynthia. "Where shall we begin? Never mind the lamp.
+Let's sit by the fire and be cosy."
+
+He moved forward with her--it was impossible to do otherwise--but there
+was no yielding in his action. He held himself as straight and stiff as
+a soldier on parade. He had bitten through his cigarette, and he tossed
+it into the fire.
+
+"Now sit down!" said Cynthia hospitably. "That chair is for you, and I
+am going to curl up on the floor at your feet as becomes a dutiful
+wife."
+
+"Don't, Cynthia!" he said under his breath. But she had her way,
+nevertheless. There were times when she seemed able to attain this with
+scarcely an effort.
+
+She seated herself on the hearthrug with her face to the fire.
+
+"Go on," she said, in a tone of gentle encouragement; "I'm listening."
+
+West's eyes stared beyond her into the flames.
+
+"I haven't much to say," he said quietly at length. "Only this. You are
+acting without counting the cost. There is a price to pay for
+everything, but the price you will have to pay for this is heavier than
+you realise. There should be--there can be--no such thing as equality
+between a woman in your position--a good woman--and a blackguard in
+mine."
+
+Cynthia made a little gesture of impatience without turning her head.
+
+"Oh, you needn't treat me as if I were on a different plane," she said.
+"I'm a sinner, too, in my own humble way. It's unreasonable of you to go
+on like that, unkind as well. I may be only a sprat in your estimation,
+but even a sprat has its little feelings, its little heartaches, too, I
+daresay." She broke off with a sigh and a laugh; then, drawing
+impulsively nearer to him, but still without turning: "Do you remember
+once, ages and ages ago, you were on the verge of saying something to
+me, of--telling me something? And we were interrupted. Mr. West, I've
+been waiting all these years to hear what that something was."
+
+West did not stir an eyelid. His face was stern and hard.
+
+"I forget," he said.
+
+She turned upon him then, raising a finger and pointing straight at him.
+
+"That," she said, with conviction, "is just one of your lies!"
+
+West became silent, still staring fixedly into the fire.
+
+Cynthia drew nearer still. She touched his breast with her outstretched
+finger.
+
+"Mr. West," she said gravely, "I suppose you'll have to leave off being
+a blackguard, and take to being an honest man. That's the only solution
+of the difficulty that I can think of now that you have got a crippled
+wife to look after."
+
+He gripped her wrist, but still he would not look at her.
+
+"This is madness," he said, grinding out the words through clenched
+teeth. "You are making a fatal mistake. I am not fit to be your husband.
+It is not in my power to give you happiness."
+
+She did not shrink from his hold, though it was almost violent. Her eyes
+were shining like stars.
+
+"That," she said, with quaint assurance, "is just another of your lies."
+
+His hand relaxed slowly till her wrist was free.
+
+"Do you know," he said, still with that iron self-suppression, "that
+only a few weeks ago I committed forgery?"
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia. "And I know why you did it, too. It wasn't exactly
+clever, but it was just dear of you all the same."
+
+The swindler's face quivered suddenly, uncontrollably. He tried to
+laugh--the old harsh laugh--but the sound he uttered was akin to
+something very different. He leaned forward sharply, and covered his
+face with his hands.
+
+And in that moment Cynthia knew that the walls of the citadel had fallen
+at last, so that it lay open for her to enter in.
+
+She knelt up quickly. Her arm slipped round his neck. She drew his head
+with soft insistence to her breast.
+
+"My own boy, it's over; forget it all. It wasn't meant to handicap you
+always. We'll have another deal now, please God, and start afresh as
+partners."
+
+There followed a pause--a silence that had in it something sacred. Then
+West raised himself, and took her face between his hands. For a moment
+he looked deep into her eyes, his own alight with a vital fire.
+
+Then, "As lovers, Cynthia," he said, and kissed her on the lips.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                            The Nonentity
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+"It is well known that those fight hardest who fight in vain," remarked
+Lord Ronald Prior complacently. "But I should have thought a woman of
+your intellect would have known better. It's such a rank waste of energy
+to struggle against Fate."
+
+He spoke in the easy drawl habitual to him. His grey eyes held the
+pleasant smile that was seldom absent from them. Not in any fashion a
+striking personality, this; his kindest friend could not have called him
+imposing, nor could the most uncharitable have described him as anything
+worse than dull. Enemies he had none. His invariable good temper was his
+safeguard in this particular. The most offensive remark would not have
+provoked more than momentarily raised eyebrows.
+
+He was positively characterless, so Beryl Denvers told herself a dozen
+times a day. How could she possibly marry any one so neutral? And yet in
+his amiable, exasperatingly placid fashion he had for some time been
+laying siege to her affections. He had shaved off his beard because he
+had heard her say that she objected to hairy men, and he seemed to think
+that this sacrifice on his part entitled him to a larger share of her
+favour than the rest of the world, certainly much more than she was
+disposed to bestow.
+
+He had, in fact, assumed almost an air of proprietorship over her of
+late--a state of affairs which she strongly resented, but was powerless
+to alter. He had a little money, but no prospects to mention, and had
+never done anything worth doing in all his five-and-thirty years. And
+yet he seemed to think himself an eligible _parti_ for one of the most
+popular women in the district. His social position gave him a certain
+precedence among her other admirers, but Beryl herself refused to
+recognise this. She thought him presumptuous, and snubbed him
+accordingly.
+
+But Lord Ronald's courtship seemed to thrive upon snubs. He was never in
+the least disconcerted thereby. He hadn't the brains to take offence,
+she told herself impatiently, and yet somewhere at the back of her mind
+there lurked a vagrant suspicion that he was not always as obtuse as he
+seemed.
+
+She had been rude to him on the present occasion and he had retaliated
+with his smiling speech regarding her intellect which had made her feel
+vaguely uncomfortable. It might have been--it probably was--an effort at
+bluff on his part, but, uttered by any other man, it would have had
+almost a hectoring sound.
+
+"I haven't the smallest notion what you mean," she said, after a decided
+pause.
+
+"Charmed to explain," he murmured.
+
+"Pray don't trouble!" she rejoined severely. "It doesn't signify in the
+least. Explanations always bore me."
+
+Lord Ronald smiled his imperturbable smile and flicked a gnat from his
+sleeve.
+
+"Especially when they are futile, eh, Mrs. Denvers? I'm not fond of 'em
+myself. Haven't much ability for that sort of thing."
+
+"Have you any ability for anything, I wonder?" she said.
+
+He turned his smooth, good-humoured countenance towards her. It wore a
+speculative look, as though he were wondering if by any chance she could
+have meant to be nasty.
+
+"Oh, rather!" he said. "I can do quite a lot of things--and decently,
+too--from boiling potatoes to taming snakes. Never heard me play the
+cornet, have you?"
+
+Beryl remarked somewhat unnecessarily that she detested the cornet. She
+seemed to be thoroughly exasperated with him for some reason, and
+evidently wished that he would take his leave. But this fact had not
+apparently yet penetrated to Lord Ronald's understanding, for he was the
+most obliging of men at all times, and surely would never have dreamed
+of intruding his presence where it was unwelcome.
+
+He sat on his favourite perch, the music-stool, and swung himself gently
+to and fro while he mildly upheld the virtues of the instrument she had
+slighted.
+
+"I was asked to perform at a smoker the other night at the barracks," he
+said. "The men seemed to enjoy it immensely."
+
+"Soldiers like anything noisy," said Beryl Denvers scathingly.
+
+And then--because he had no retort ready--her heart smote her.
+
+"But it was kind of you to go," she said. "I am sure you wouldn't enjoy
+it."
+
+"Oh, but I did," he said, "on the whole. I should have liked it better
+if Fletcher hadn't been in the chair, and so, I think, would they. But
+it passed off very fairly well."
+
+"Why do you object to Major Fletcher?" Beryl's tone was slightly
+aggressive.
+
+Lord Ronald hesitated a little.
+
+"He isn't much liked," he told her vaguely.
+
+She frowned.
+
+"But that is no answer. Are you afraid to answer me?"
+
+He laughed at that, laughed easily and naturally, in the tolerant
+fashion that most exasperated her.
+
+"Oh, no; I'm not afraid. But I don't like hurting people's
+feelings--especially yours."
+
+"I do not see how that is possible," she rejoined, with dignity, "where
+my feelings are not concerned."
+
+"Ah, but that's where it is," he responded. "You like Fletcher well
+enough to be extremely indignant if anyone were to tell you that he is
+not a nice person for you to know."
+
+"I object to unpleasant insinuations regarding any one," she said, with
+slightly heightened colour. "They always appear to me cowardly."
+
+"Yes; but you asked, you know," Lord Ronald reminded her gently.
+
+Her colour deepened. It was not often that he got the better of her; not
+often, indeed, that he exerted himself to do so. She began to wish
+ardently that he would go. Really, he was quite insufferable to-day.
+
+Had he been a man of any perception whatever she would almost have
+thought that he fathomed her desire, for at this point he rose in a
+leisurely fashion as though upon the point of departure.
+
+She rose also from behind the tea-table with a little inward pricking of
+conscience for wishing him gone. She wondered if he deemed her
+inhospitable, but if he did he disguised it very carefully, for his eyes
+held nothing but friendliness as they met her own.
+
+"Has it never occurred to you," he said, "that you lead a very
+unprotected existence here?"
+
+Something in his expression checked her first impulse to resent the
+question. Her lip quivered unexpectedly.
+
+"Now and then," she said.
+
+"Are you a man-hater?" he asked deliberately.
+
+She laughed a little.
+
+"Why do you ask such an absurd question?"
+
+He seemed to hesitate momentarily.
+
+"Because--forgive me--wouldn't you be a good deal happier if you were to
+marry again?"
+
+Again her colour rose hotly. What did the man mean by assuming this
+attitude? Was he about to plead his own cause, or that of another?
+
+"I think it exceedingly doubtful," she replied stiffly, meeting his
+steady eyes with a hint of defiance.
+
+"You have never thought of such a thing perhaps?" he suggested.
+
+She smiled a woman's pitying smile.
+
+"Of course I have thought of it."
+
+"Then you have not yet met the man to whom you would care to entrust
+yourself?" he asked.
+
+She took fire at this. It was an act of presumption not to be borne.
+
+"Even if I had," she said, with burning cheeks, "I do not think I should
+make Lord Ronald Prior my confidant."
+
+"No?" he said. "Yet you might do worse."
+
+Her eyes shot scorn.
+
+"Can a man be worse than inept?" she asked.
+
+"Yes," he answered. "Since you ask me, I think he can--a good deal
+worse."
+
+"I detest colourless people!" she broke in vehemently.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"In fact, you prefer black sheep to grey sheep. A good many women do.
+But it doesn't follow that the preference is a wise one."
+
+The colour faded suddenly from her face. Did he know how ghastly a
+failure her first marriage had been? Most people knew. Could it be to
+this that he was referring? The bare suspicion made her wince.
+
+"That," she said icily, "is no one's affair but my own. I am not wholly
+ignorant of the ways of the world. And I know whom I can trust."
+
+"You trust me, for instance?" said Lord Ronald.
+
+She looked him up and down witheringly.
+
+"I should say you are quite the most harmless man I know."
+
+"And you don't like me in consequence," he drawled, meeting the look
+with eyes so intent that, half-startled, she lowered her own.
+
+She turned away from him with an impatient gesture. He had never managed
+to embarrass her before.
+
+"I should like you better if you weren't so officious," she said.
+
+"But you have no one else to look after you," objected Lord Ronald.
+
+"Well, in any case, it isn't your business," she threw back, almost
+inclined to laugh at his audacity.
+
+"It would be if you married me," he pointed out, as patiently as if he
+were dealing with a fractious child.
+
+"If I----"
+
+She wheeled abruptly, amazed out of her disdain. It was the most prosaic
+proposal she had ever had.
+
+"If you married me," he repeated, keeping his eyes upon her. "You admit
+that I am harmless, so you would have nothing to fear from me. And as a
+watch-dog, I think you would find me useful--and quite easy to manage,"
+he added, with his serene smile.
+
+Beryl was staring at him in wide astonishment. Was the man mad to
+approach her thus?
+
+"No," he said. "I am quite sane; eccentric perhaps, but--as you are kind
+enough to observe--quite harmless. I never proposed to any woman before
+in my life, or so much as wanted to, so that must be my excuse for doing
+it badly. Really, you know, Mrs. Denvers, you might do worse than marry
+me. You might indeed."
+
+But at that her indignation broke bounds. If he were not mad, it made
+him the more intolerable. Did he fancy himself so desirable, then, that
+he had merely to fling her the handkerchief--to find her at his feet?
+His impertinence transcended belief. But she would pay him back in his
+own coin. He should never again imagine himself irresistible.
+
+"Really, Lord Ronald," she said, "if I actually needed a
+protector--which I do not--you are the very last person to whom I should
+turn. And as to a husband----"
+
+She paused a moment, searching for words sufficiently barbed to
+penetrate even his complacency.
+
+"Yes?" he said gently, as if desirous to help her out.
+
+"As to a husband," she said, "if I ever marry again, it will be a man I
+can respect--a man who can hold his own in the world; a man who is
+really a man, and not--not a nonentity!"
+
+Impetuously she flung the words. For all his placidity, he seemed to
+possess the power to infuriate her. She longed intensely to move him to
+anger. She felt insulted by his composure, hating him because he
+remained so courteously attentive.
+
+He made no attempt to parry her thrust, nor did he seem to be
+disconcerted thereby. He merely listened imperturbably till she ceased
+to speak. Then:
+
+"Ah, well," he said good-humouredly, "you mustn't take me too seriously.
+It was only a suggestion, you know." He picked up his hat with the
+words. "A pity you can't see your way to fall in with it, but you know
+best. Good-bye for the present."
+
+Reluctantly, in response to his evident expectation, she gave him her
+hand.
+
+"I wish you to understand, Lord Ronald," she said stiffly as she did so,
+"that my reply is final."
+
+He lifted his eyebrows for a second, and she fancied--could it have been
+mere fancy?--that the grey eyes shone with a certain steely
+determination that was assuredly foreign to his whole nature as he made
+deliberate reply:
+
+"That is quite understood, Mrs. Denvers. It was awfully kind of you to
+be so explicit. As you know, I am not good at taking hints."
+
+And with that he was gone, unruffled to the last, perfectly courteous,
+almost dignified, while she stood and watched his exit with a vague and
+disquieting suspicion that he had somehow managed to get the best of it
+after all.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+When Beryl Denvers first came to Kundaghat to be near her friend Mrs.
+Ellis, the Commissioner's wife, society in general openly opined that
+she had come to the populous Hill station to seek a husband. She was
+young, she was handsome, and she was free. It seemed the only reasonable
+conclusion to draw. But since that date society had had ample occasion
+to change its mind. Beryl Denvers plainly valued her freedom above every
+other consideration, and those who wooed her wooed in vain. She
+discouraged the attentions of all mankind with a rigour that never
+varied, till society began to think that her brief matrimonial
+experience had turned her into a man-hater. And yet this was hard to
+believe, for, though quick-tempered, she was not bitter. She was quite
+willing to be friendly with all men, up to a certain point. But beyond
+this subtle boundary few dared to venture and none remained. There was a
+wonderful fascination about her, a magnetism that few could resist; but
+notwithstanding this she held herself aloof, never wholly forgetting her
+caution even with those who considered themselves her intimates.
+
+Having dismissed Lord Ronald Prior, with whom she was almost
+unreasonably angry, she ordered her rickshaw and went out to cool her
+hot cheeks. The recent interview had disquieted her to the depths. She
+tried to regard his presumption as ludicrous, yet failed to do so. For
+what he had said was to a large extent true. She was unprotected, and
+she was also lonely, though this she never owned. She stifled a sigh as
+she set forth. Hitherto she had always liked Lord Ronald. Why had he
+couched his proposal in such impossible terms?
+
+She went to the polo-ground to watch the practice, and here found
+several friends in whose society she tried to forget her discomfiture.
+But it remained with her notwithstanding, and was still present when she
+returned to prepare for dinner. She was dining with the Ellises that
+night, and she hoped ardently that Lord Ronald would not make one of the
+party.
+
+But she was evidently destined for mortification that day, for the first
+thing she saw upon entering the drawing-room was his trim figure
+standing by her hostess. And, "Lord Ronald will take you in, dear," said
+Nina Ellis, as she greeted her.
+
+Beryl glanced at him, and he bowed in his courtly way. "I hope you don't
+mind," he murmured.
+
+She did mind exceedingly, but it was impossible to say so. She could
+only yield to the inevitable and rest the tips of her fingers upon his
+sleeve.
+
+It was with a decided sense of relief that she found Major Fletcher
+seated on her other side. A handsome, well-mannered cavalier was Major
+Fletcher, by every line of his figure a soldier, by every word of his
+conversation a gentleman. Exceedingly self-possessed at all times, it
+was seldom, if ever, that he laid himself open to a snub. It was
+probably for this very reason that Beryl liked him better than most of
+the men in Kundaghat, was less distant with him, and usually granted the
+very little that he asked of her.
+
+She turned to him at once with a random remark about the polo-players,
+wondering if they would be able to hold their own against a native team
+with whom a match had been arranged for the following week.
+
+"Oh, I think so," he said. "The Farabad men are strong, but our fellows
+are hard to beat. It won't be a walkover for either side."
+
+"Where will the match be played?" she asked, nervously afraid of letting
+the subject drop lest Lord Ronald should claim her attention.
+
+"Here," said Major Fletcher. "It was originally to have been at Farabad,
+but there was some difficulty about the ground. I was over there
+arranging matters only this evening. The whole place is being turned
+upside down for a native fair which is to be held in a few days, when
+the moon is full. You ought to see it. It is an interesting sight--one
+which I believe you would enjoy."
+
+"No doubt I should," she agreed. "But it is rather a long way, isn't
+it?"
+
+"Not more than twelve miles." Fletcher's dark face kindled with a sudden
+idea. "I could drive you down some morning early if you cared for it."
+
+Beryl hesitated. It was not her custom to accept invitations of this
+sort, but for once she felt tempted. She longed to demonstrate her
+independence to Lord Ronald, whose suggestions regarding her inability
+to take care of herself had so sorely hurt her pride. Might she not
+permit herself this one small fling for his benefit? It would be so good
+for him to realise that she was no incompetent girl, but a woman of the
+world and thoroughly well versed in its ways. And at least he would be
+forced to recognise that his proposal had been little short of an
+absurdity. She wanted him to see that, as she wanted nothing else on
+earth.
+
+"You think it would bore you?" asked Fletcher.
+
+"No," she said, flushing slightly; "I think I should like it."
+
+"Well done!" he said, with quiet approval. "You are such a hermit, Mrs.
+Denvers, that it will be quite a novelty for us both."
+
+She met his eyes for an instant, assailed by a sudden memory of Lord
+Ronald's vague remarks concerning him. But they were very level, and
+revealed nothing whatever. She told herself indignantly that there was
+nothing to reveal. The man had simply made her a friendly offer, and she
+determined to accept it in a like spirit.
+
+"It was kind of you to think of it," she said. "I will come with much
+pleasure."
+
+On her other side she heard Lord Ronald's leisurely tones conversing
+with his neighbour, and wondered if aught of the project had reached
+him. She hoped it had, though the serenity of his demeanour made her
+doubtful. But in any case he would surely know sooner or later.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+Major Fletcher was well versed in the ways of natives, and as they drove
+in his high dog-cart to Farabad a few days later, he imparted to his
+companion a good deal of information regarding them of which, till then,
+she had been quite ignorant.
+
+He succeeded in arousing her interest, and the long drive down the
+hillside in the early morning gave her the keenest enjoyment. She had
+been feeling weary and depressed of late, a state of affairs which could
+not fairly be put down to the score of ill-health. She had tried hard to
+ignore it, but it had obtruded itself upon her notwithstanding, and she
+was glad of the diversion which this glimpse of native life afforded
+her. Of Lord Ronald Prior she had seen nothing for over a week. He had
+left Kundaghat on the day following the dinner-party, dropping
+unobtrusively, without farewell, out of her life. She had told herself a
+dozen times, and vehemently, that she was glad of it, but the
+humiliating fact remained that she missed him--missed him at every turn;
+when she rode, when she danced, when she went out in her rickshaw, and
+most of all in her drawing-room.
+
+She had grown so accustomed to the sight of the thick-set, unromantic
+figure swinging lazily to and fro on her sorely tried music-stool,
+watching her with serene grey eyes that generally held a smile. She
+wished she had not been quite so severe. She had not meant to send him
+quite away. As a friend, his attitude of kindly admiration was all that
+could be desired. And he was so safe, too, so satisfactorily solid. She
+had always felt that she could say what she liked to him without being
+misunderstood. Well, he had gone, and as they finally alighted, and went
+forward on foot through the fair, she resolutely dismissed him from her
+mind.
+
+She made one or two purchases under Fletcher's guidance, which meant
+that she told him what she wanted and stood by while he bargained for
+her in Hindustani, an amusing business from her point of view.
+
+Undoubtedly she was beginning to enjoy herself, when he surprised her by
+turning from one of these unintelligible colloquies, and offering for
+her acceptance a beautifully wrought gold filigree bracelet.
+
+She looked at him blankly, not without a vague feeling of dismay.
+
+"Won't you have it?" he said. "Won't you permit me this small favour?"
+
+She felt the colour go out of her face. It was so unexpected, this from
+him--in a fashion, almost staggering. For some reason she had never
+regarded this man as a possible admirer. She felt as if the solid ground
+had suddenly quaked beneath her.
+
+"I would rather not," she said at last, avoiding his eyes instinctively.
+"Please don't think me ungracious. I know you mean to be kind."
+
+"If you really believe that," said Fletcher, smiling faintly, "I don't
+see your objection."
+
+The blood rushed back in a burning wave to her face. She, who prided
+herself upon being a woman of the world, blushed hotly, overwhelmingly,
+like any self-conscious girl.
+
+"I would rather not," she repeated, with her eyes upon the ground.
+
+But Fletcher was not to be turned lightly from his purpose.
+
+"I wouldn't distress you for the world, Mrs. Denvers," he said, "but
+don't you think you are a trifle unreasonable? No one expects a woman in
+your position to be a slave to convention. I would never have bought the
+thing had I dreamed that it could be an offence."
+
+There was a tinge of reproach in his voice, no more, but she felt
+inexplicably ashamed as she heard it. She looked up sharply, and the
+conviction that she was making herself ridiculous swept quickly upon
+her. She held out her hand to him, and mutely suffered him to slip the
+bangle on to her wrist.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+A curious rattling sound made them turn sharply the next moment, and
+even though it proved to be the warning signal of an old snake-charmer,
+Beryl welcomed the diversion. She looked at the man with a good deal of
+interest, notwithstanding her repulsion. He was wrapped in a long, very
+dirty, white _chuddah_, from which his face peered weirdly forth,
+wrinkled and old, almost supernaturally old, she thought to herself. It
+was very strangely adorned with red paint, which imparted to the eyes a
+ghastly pale appearance in the midst of the swarthy skin. A wiry grey
+beard covered the lower part of the face, and into this he was crooning
+a tuneless and wholly unintelligible song, while he squatted on the
+ground in front of a large, covered basket.
+
+"He has got a cobra there," Fletcher said, and took Beryl's arm quietly.
+
+She moved slightly, with a latent wish that he would take his hand away.
+But natives were beginning to crowd and press about them to see the
+show, and she realised that his action was dictated by necessity.
+
+"Shall I take you away before we get hemmed in?" he asked her once.
+
+But she shook her head. A nameless fascination impelled her to remain.
+
+Even when the snake-charmer shot forth a dusky arm and clawed the basket
+open, she showed no sign of fear, though Fletcher's hold upon her
+tightened to a grip. They seemed to be the only Europeans in all that
+throng, but that fact also she had forgotten. She could think of nothing
+but the crouching native before her, and the basket in which some
+living, moving thing lay enshrouded.
+
+Closely she watched the active fingers, alert and sensitive, feeling
+over the dingy cloth they had exposed. Suddenly, with a movement too
+swift to be followed, they rent the covering away, and on the instant,
+rearing upwards, she beheld a huge snake.
+
+A thrill of horror shot through her, so keen that it stabbed every
+pulse, making her whole body tingle. But there was no escape for her
+then, nor did she seek it. She had a most unaccountable feeling that
+this display was for her alone, that in some way it appealed to her
+individually; and she was no longer so much as conscious of Fletcher's
+presence at her side.
+
+The charmer continued his crooning noise, and the great cobra swayed its
+inflated neck to and fro as though to some mysterious rhythm, the native
+with naked hand and arm seeming to direct it.
+
+"Loathsome!" murmured a voice into Beryl's ear, but she did not hear it.
+Her whole intelligence was riveted upon the movements of the serpent and
+its master. It was a hideous spectacle, but it occupied her undivided
+attention. She had no room for panic.
+
+Suddenly the man's crooning ceased, and on the instant the cobra ceased
+to sway. It seemed to gather itself together, was rigid for perhaps five
+seconds, and then--swift as a lightning flash--it struck.
+
+A sharp cry broke from Beryl, but she never knew that she uttered it.
+All she was aware of was the ghastly struggle that ensued in front of
+her, the fierce writhing of the snake, the convulsive movements of the
+old native, and, curiously distinct from everything else, an impression
+of some stringed instrument thrumming somewhere at the back of the
+crowd.
+
+It all ended as unexpectedly as it had begun. The great reptile became
+suddenly inert, a lifeless thing; the monotonous crooning was resumed,
+proceeding as it were out of the chaos of the struggle, and round his
+neck and about his body the snake-charmer wound his vanquished foe.
+
+The moment for _backsheesh_ had arrived, and Beryl, coming suddenly out
+of her absorption, felt for her purse and awoke abruptly to the
+consciousness of a hand that gripped her arm.
+
+She glanced at Fletcher, who at once slackened his hold. "Don't you give
+the fellow anything," he said, with a touch of peremptoriness, "I will."
+
+She yielded, considering the matter too trivial for argument, and
+watched his rupee fall with a tinkle upon the tin plate which the
+snake-charmer extended at the length of his sinewy arm.
+
+Fletcher speedily made a way for her through the now shifting crowd; and
+after a little they found the _saice_, waiting with the mare under a
+tree. The animal was tormented by flies and restless. Certainly in this
+valley district it was very hot.
+
+"We will go back by the hill road," Fletcher said, as he handed her up.
+"It is rather longer, but I think it is worth it. This blaze is too much
+for you."
+
+They left the thronged highroad, and turned up a rutty track leading
+directly into the hills.
+
+Their way lay between great, glaring boulders of naked rock. Here and
+there tufts of grass grew beside the stony track, but they were brown
+and scorched, and served only to emphasise the barrenness of the land.
+
+For a while they drove in silence, mounting steadily the whole time.
+
+Suddenly Fletcher spoke. "We shall come to some shade directly. There is
+a belt of pine trees round the next curve."
+
+The words were hardly uttered when unexpectedly the mare shied, struck
+the ground violently with all four feet together, and bolted.
+
+Beryl heard an exclamation from the native groom, and half-turned to see
+him clinging to the back with a face of terror. She herself was more
+astonished than frightened. She gripped the rail instinctively, for the
+cart was jolting horribly as the mare, stretched out like a greyhound,
+fled at full gallop along the stony way.
+
+She saw Fletcher, with his feet against the board, dragging backwards
+with all his strength. He was quite white, but exceedingly collected,
+and she was instantly quite certain that he knew what he was about.
+
+There followed a few breathless moments of headlong galloping, during
+which they swayed perilously from side to side, and were many times on
+the verge of being overturned. Then, the ground rising steeply, the
+mare's wild pace became modified, developed into a spasmodic canter,
+became a difficult trot, finally slowed to a walk.
+
+Fletcher pulled up altogether, and turned to the silent woman beside
+him. "Mrs. Denvers, you are splendid!" he said simply.
+
+She laughed rather tremulously. The tension over, she was feeling very
+weak.
+
+The _saice_ was already at the mare's head, and Fletcher let the reins
+go. He dismounted without another word and went round to her side. Still
+silent, he held up his hands to her and lifted her down as though she
+had been a child. He was smiling a little, but he was still very pale.
+
+As for Beryl, the moment her feet touched the ground she felt as if the
+whole world had turned to liquid and were swimming around her in a
+gigantic whirlpool of floating impressions.
+
+"Ah, you are faint!" she heard him say.
+
+And she made a desperate and quite futile effort to assure him that she
+was nothing of the sort. But she knew that no more than a blur of sound
+came from her lips, and even while she strove to make herself
+intelligible the floating world became a dream, and darkness fell upon
+her.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+Gradually, very gradually, the mists cleared from Beryl's brain, and she
+opened her eyes dreamily, and stared about her with a feeling that she
+had been asleep for years. She was lying propped upon carriage-cushions
+in the shade of an immense boulder, and as she discovered this fact,
+memory flashed swiftly back upon her. She had fainted, of course, in her
+foolish, weak, womanly fashion. But where was Major Fletcher? The heat
+was intense, so intense that breathing in that prone position seemed
+impossible. Gasping, she raised herself. Surely she was not absolutely
+alone in this arid wilderness!
+
+She was not. In an instant she realised this, and wonder rather than
+fear possessed her.
+
+There, squatting on his haunches, not ten paces from her, was the old
+snake-charmer. His basket was by his side; his _chuddah_ drooped low
+over his face; he sat quite motionless, save for a certain palsied
+quivering, which she had observed before. He looked as if he had been in
+that place and attitude for many years.
+
+Beryl leaned her head upon her hand and closed her eyes. She was feeling
+spent and sick. He did not inspire her with horror, this old man. She
+was conscious of a faint sensation of disgust, that was all.
+
+A few seconds later she looked up again, wondering afresh whither her
+escort could have betaken himself. It seemed to her that the distance
+between herself and the old native had dwindled somewhat, but she did
+not bestow much attention upon him. She merely noted how fiercely the
+sun beat down upon his shrouded head, and wondered how he managed to
+endure it.
+
+The next time she opened her eyes, there were scarcely three yards
+between them. The instant her look fell upon him he began to speak in a
+thin, wiry voice of great humility.
+
+"Let the gracious lady pardon her servant," he said, in perfect English.
+"He would not harm a hair of her head."
+
+She raised herself to an upright position with an effort. Very curiously
+she did not feel in the least afraid. By an abrupt intuition, wholly
+inexplicable, she knew that the man had something to tell her.
+
+"What is it?" she said.
+
+He cringed before her.
+
+"Let my gracious lady have patience. It is no boon that her servant
+would desire of her. He would only speak a word of warning in the
+_mem-sahib's_ ear."
+
+Beryl had begun to give him her full attention. She had a feeling that
+she had seen the man somewhere before, but where and under what
+circumstances she could not recall. It was no moment for retrospection
+and the phantom eluded her.
+
+"What is it?" she said again, studying him with knitted brows.
+
+He bowed himself before her till he appeared to be no more than a bundle
+of dirty linen.
+
+"Let the gracious lady be warned by her servant," he said. "Fletcher
+_sahib_ is a man of evil heart."
+
+Beryl's eyes widened. Assuredly this was the last thing she had expected
+to hear from such a source.
+
+"What do you mean?" she asked.
+
+He grovelled before her, his head almost in the dust.
+
+"_Mem-sahib_ he has gone for water, but he will soon return. And he will
+lie to the gracious lady, and tell her that the shaft of the carriage is
+broken so that he cannot take her back. But it is not so, most gracious.
+The shaft is cracked, indeed, but it is not beyond repair. Moreover, it
+was cracked by the _saice_ at his master's bidding, while the
+_mem-sahib_ was at the fair."
+
+He paused; but Beryl said nothing. She was listening to the whole story
+in speechless, unfeigned astonishment.
+
+"Also," her informant proceeded, "the _sahib's_ mare was frightened, not
+by an accident, but by a trick. It was the _sahib's_ will that she
+should run away. And he chose this road so that he might be far from
+habitation, well knowing that for every mile on the lower road there are
+two miles to be travelled on this. _Mem-sahib_, your servant has spoken,
+and he prays you to beware. There is danger in your path."
+
+"But--but," gasped Beryl, "how do you know all this? What makes you tell
+me? You can't know what you are saying!"
+
+She was thoroughly frightened by this time, and heat and faintness were
+alike forgotten. Incredible as was the story to which she had listened,
+there was about it a vividness that made it terrifying.
+
+"But I don't understand," she said helplessly, as the snake-charmer
+remained silent to her questions. "It is not possible! It could not be!"
+
+He lifted his head a little and, from the depths of the _chuddah_, she
+knew that piercing eyes surveyed her.
+
+"_Mem-sahib_," he said, "your servant knew that this would happen, and
+he came here swiftly by a secret way to warn you. More, he knows that
+when Fletcher _sahib_ returns, he will speak lightly of the accident, so
+that the _mem-sahib_ will have no fear. 'A broken shaft is soon mended,'
+he will say. 'My servant has returned to Farabad--to a man he knows. We
+will rest under the trees but a furlong from this place till he comes
+back.' But, most gracious, he will not come back. There is no place at
+Farabad at this time of the fair where the work could be done. Moreover,
+the _saice_ has his orders, and he will not seek one. He will go back to
+Kundaghat with the mare, but he will walk all the way. It is fifteen
+miles from here by the road. He will not reach it ere nightfall. He will
+not return till after the darkness falls, and then he will miss the
+road. He will not find Fletcher _sahib_ and the gracious lady before the
+sunrise."
+
+Thus, in brief but telling sentences, the old native revealed to the
+white-faced woman before him the whole abominable plot. She listened to
+him in a growing agony of doubt. Could it be? Was it by any means
+possible that Fletcher, desiring to win her, but despairing of lessening
+the distance she maintained between them by any ordinary method, had
+devised this foul scheme of compromising her in the eyes of society in
+order to force her to accept him?
+
+Her cheeks burned furiously at the intolerable suspicion. It made her
+wholly forget that the man before her was an evil-looking native of whom
+she knew nothing whatever.
+
+With sudden impulse she turned and bestowed her full confidence upon
+him, the paint-smeared face and mumbling beard notwithstanding.
+
+"You must help me," she said imperiously. "You have done so much. You
+must do more. Tell me how I am to get back to Kundaghat."
+
+He made a deferential gesture.
+
+"The _mem-sahib_ cannot depart before the major _sahib_ returns," he
+said. "Let her therefore be faint once more, and let him minister to
+her. Let her hear his story, and judge if her servant has spoken truly.
+Then let the gracious lady go with him into the shade of the pine trees
+on the hill. When she is there let her discover that she has left behind
+her some treasure that she values--such as the golden bangle that is on
+the _mem-sahib's_ wrist. Let her show distress, and Fletcher _sahib_
+shall come back to seek it. Then let her listen for the scream of a jay,
+and rise up and follow it. It will lead her by a safe and speedy way to
+Kundaghat. It will be easy for the _mem-sahib_ to say afterwards that
+she began to wander and lost her way, till at last she met an aged man
+who guided her."
+
+Yes, quite easy. She assimilated this subtle suggestion, for the first
+time in her life welcoming craft. Of the extreme risk of the undertaking
+she was too agitated to think. To get away was her one all-possessing
+desire.
+
+While she thus desperately reviewed the situation, the snake-charmer
+began, with much grunting and mowing, to gather himself together for
+departure. She watched him, feeling that she would have gladly detained
+him had that been possible. Slowly, with palsied movements, he at length
+arose and took up his basket, doubled himself up before her with an
+almost ludicrous excess of deference, and finally hobbled away.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+There fell a step upon the parched earth, and with a start Beryl turned
+her head. She had seated herself again, but it was impossible to feign
+limpness with every pulse at the gallop. She looked up at Fletcher with
+a desperate smile.
+
+He wore a knotted handkerchief on his head to protect it from the sun,
+and in his hat, which he balanced with great care in both hands, he
+carried water.
+
+"I am glad to see you looking better," he said as he reached her. "I am
+afraid there isn't much more than a cupful left. I had to go nearly half
+a mile to get it, and it has been running out steadily all the way
+back."
+
+He knelt down before her, deep concern on his sunburnt face.
+Reluctantly, out of sheer gratitude, she dipped her handkerchief in the
+tepid drain, and bathed her face and hands.
+
+"I am so sorry to give you all this trouble," she murmured.
+
+He smiled with raised brows.
+
+"I think I ought to say that. You will never trust yourself to me again
+after this experience."
+
+She looked at him with a guilty sense of duplicity.
+
+"I--scarcely see how you were to blame for it," she said, rather
+faintly.
+
+He surveyed her for a moment in silence. Then, "I hardly know how to
+break it to you," he said. "I am afraid the matter is rather more
+serious than you think."
+
+She forced a smile. This delicate preparation was far more difficult to
+endure than the actual calamity to which it paved the way.
+
+"Please don't treat me like a coward," she said. "I know I was foolish
+enough to faint, but it was not so much from fright as from the heat."
+
+"You behaved splendidly," he returned, his dark eyes still intently
+watching her. "But this is not so much a case for nerve as for
+resignation. Mrs. Denvers, you will never forgive me, I know. That jump
+of the mare's damaged one of the shafts. The wonder is it didn't break
+altogether. I have had to send the _saice_ back to Farabad to try and
+get it patched up, and there is very little chance of our getting back
+to Kundaghat for two or three hours to come."
+
+All the time that he was communicating this tragic news, Beryl's eyes
+were upon his face. She paid no heed to his scrutiny. Simply, with
+absolute steadiness, she returned it.
+
+And she detected nothing--nothing but the most earnest regret, the most
+courteous anxiety regarding her welfare. Could it all be a monstrous
+lie, she asked herself. And yet it was to the smallest detail the story
+she had been warned to expect.
+
+"But surely," she said, at last, "we cannot be so very far from
+Kundaghat?"
+
+"No great distance as the crow flies," said Fletcher, "but a good many
+miles by road. I am afraid there is nothing for it but to wait till the
+mischief is repaired. My only comfort is that you will feel the heat
+less in returning later in the day. There are some pine trees on the
+other side of the rise where you can rest. If I had only brought
+something to eat I should have less cause to blame myself. As it is, do
+you think you will be able to hold out?"
+
+She smiled at that.
+
+"Oh, I am not starving yet," she said, with more assurance; "but I do
+not see the use of sitting still under the circumstances. I am quite
+rested now. Let us walk back to Farabad, and we might start on foot
+along the lower road for Kundaghat, and tell your man to overtake us."
+
+Notwithstanding the resolution she infused into her voice, she made the
+proposal somewhat breathlessly, for she knew--in her heart she
+knew--that it would be instantly negatived.
+
+And so it was. His face expressed sharp surprise for a second,
+developing into prompt remonstrance.
+
+"My dear Mrs. Denvers, in this heat! You have not the least idea of what
+it would mean. You simply have not the strength for such a venture."
+
+But Beryl was growing bolder in the face of emergency. She coolly set
+his assurance aside.
+
+"I do not quite agree with you," she said. "I am a better walker than
+you seem to imagine, and the walk into Farabad certainly would not kill
+me. We might be able to hire some conveyance there--a _tonga_ or even a
+bullock-cart"--she laughed a little--"would be better than nothing."
+
+But Fletcher persistently shook his head.
+
+"I am sorry--horribly sorry, but it would be downright madness to
+attempt it."
+
+"Nevertheless," said Beryl very quietly, "I mean to do so."
+
+She saw his brows meet for a single instant, and she was conscious of a
+sick feeling at her heart that made her physically cold. Doubt was
+emerging into deadly conviction.
+
+Suddenly he leaned towards her, and spoke very earnestly.
+
+"Mrs. Denvers, please believe that I regret this mischance every whit as
+much as you do. But, after all, it is only a mischance, and we may be
+thankful it was no worse. Shall we not treat it as such, and make the
+best of it?"
+
+He was looking her straight in the face as he said it, but, steady as
+was his gaze, she was not reassured. Quick as lightning came the
+thought--it was almost like an inner voice warning her--that he must not
+suspect the fact. Whatever happened she must veil her uneasiness, which
+she feared had been already far too obvious.
+
+Quietly she rose and expressed her willingness to go with him into the
+shade of the trees.
+
+They stood grouped on the side of a hill, a thick belt through which the
+scorching sun-rays slanted obliquely, turning the straight brown trunks
+to ruddiest gold. There was more air here than in the valley, and it was
+a relief to sit down in the shade and rest upon a fallen tree.
+
+Fletcher threw himself down upon the ground. "We can watch the road from
+here," he remarked. "We should see the dog-cart about a mile away."
+
+This was true. Barren, stony, and deserted, the road twisted in and out
+below them, visible from that elevation for a considerable distance.
+Beryl looked over it in silence. Her heart was beating in great
+suffocating throbs, while she strove to summon her resolution. Could she
+do this thing? Dared she? On the other hand, could she face the
+alternative risk? Her face burned fiercely yet again as she thought of
+it.
+
+Furtively she began to study the man stretched out upon the ground close
+to her, and a sudden, surging regret went through her. If only it had
+been Lord Ronald lounging there beside her, how utterly different would
+have been her attitude! Foolish and inept he might be--he was--but, as
+he himself had comfortably remarked, a man might be worse. She trusted
+him implicitly, every one trusted him. It was impossible to do
+otherwise.
+
+Had any one accused him of laying a trap for her, she would have treated
+the suggestion as too contemptible for notice. A sharp sigh escaped her.
+Why had he taken her so promptly at her word? He could never have
+seriously cared for her. Probably it was not in him to care.
+
+"You are not comfortable?" said Fletcher.
+
+She started at the sound of his voice, and with desperate impulse took
+action before her courage could fail her.
+
+"Major Fletcher, I--have lost the bangle you gave me. It slipped off
+down by that big rock when I was feeling ill. And I must have left it
+there. Should you very much mind fetching it for me?"
+
+She felt her face grow crimson as she made the request, and she could
+not look at him, knowing too well what he would think of her confusion.
+She felt, indeed, as if she could never look him in the face again.
+
+Fletcher sat quite still for a few seconds. Then, "But it's of no
+consequence, is it?" he said. "I will fetch it for you, of course, if
+you like, but I could give you fifty more like it. And in any case we
+can find it when Subdul comes with the dog-cart."
+
+He was reluctant to leave her. She saw it instantly, and tingled at the
+discovery. With a great effort she made her final attempt.
+
+"Please," she said, with downcast eyes, "I want it now."
+
+He was on his feet at once, looking down at her. "I will fetch it with
+the greatest pleasure," he said.
+
+And, not waiting for her thanks, he turned and left her.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+For many seconds after his departure Beryl sat quite rigid, watching his
+tall figure pass swiftly downwards through the trees. She did not stir
+till he had reached the road, then, with a sudden deep breath, she rose.
+
+At the same instant there sounded behind her, high up the hillside among
+the pine trees, the piercing scream of a jay.
+
+It startled her, for she had not been listening for it. All her thoughts
+had been concentrated upon the man below her. But this distant cry
+brought her back, and sharply she turned.
+
+Again came the cry, unmusical, insistent. She glanced nervously around,
+but met only the bright eyes of a squirrel on a branch above her.
+
+Again it came, arrogantly this time, almost imperiously. It seemed to
+warn her that there was no time for indecision. She felt as though some
+mysterious power were drawing her, and, gathering her strength, she
+began impetuously to mount the hill that stretched up behind her,
+covered with pine trees as far as she could see. It was slippery with
+pine needles, and she stumbled a good deal, but she faltered no longer
+in her purpose. She had done with indecision.
+
+She had climbed some distance before she heard again the guiding signal.
+It sounded away to her right, and she turned aside at once to follow it.
+In that instant, glancing downwards through the long, straight stems,
+she saw Fletcher far below, just entering the wood. Her heart leapt
+wildly at the sight. She almost stopped in her agitation. But the
+discordant bird-call sounded yet again, louder and more compelling than
+before, and she turned as a needle to a magnet and followed.
+
+The growth of pine trees became denser as she proceeded. It seemed to
+close her in and swallow her. But only once again did fear touch her,
+and that was when she heard Fletcher's voice, very far away but
+unmistakable, calling to her by name.
+
+With infinite relief, still following her unseen guide, at last she
+began to descend. The ground sloped sharply downwards, and creeping
+undergrowth began to make her progress difficult. She pressed on,
+however, and at length, hearing the tinkle of running water, realised
+that she was approaching one of the snow-fed mountain streams that went
+to swell the sacred waters that flowed by the temple at Farabad.
+
+She plunged downwards eagerly, for she was hot and thirsty, coming out
+at last upon the brink of a stream that gurgled over stones between
+great masses of undergrowth.
+
+"Will the _mem-sahib_ deign to drink?" a deferential voice asked behind
+her.
+
+She looked round sharply to see the old snake-charmer, bent nearly
+double with age and humility, meekly offering her a small brass
+drinking-vessel.
+
+His offer surprised her, knowing the Hindu's horror of a stranger's
+polluting touch, but she accepted it without question. Stooping, she
+scooped up a cupful of the clean water and drank.
+
+The draught was cold as ice and refreshed her marvellously. She thanked
+him for it with a smile.
+
+"And now?" she said.
+
+He bowed profoundly, and taking the cup he washed it very carefully in
+the stream. Then, deprecatingly, he spoke.
+
+"_Mem-sahib_, it is here that we cross the water."
+
+She looked at the rushing stream with dismay. It was not very wide but
+she saw at once that it was beyond a leap. She fancied that the swirling
+water in the middle indicated depth.
+
+"Do you mean I must wade?" she asked.
+
+He made a cringing gesture.
+
+"There is another way, most gracious."
+
+She gazed at him blankly.
+
+"Another way?"
+
+Again he bent himself.
+
+"If the _mem-sahib_ will so far trust her servant."
+
+"But--but how?" she asked, somewhat breathlessly. "You don't mean--you
+can't mean----"
+
+"_Mem-sahib_," he said gently, "it will not be the first time that I
+have borne one of your race in my arms. I may seem old to you, most
+gracious, but I have yet the vigour of manhood. The water is swift but
+it is not deep. Let the _mem-sahib_ watch her servant cross with the
+snake-basket, and she will see for herself that he speaks the truth. He
+will return for the _mem-sahib_, with her permission, and will bear her
+in safety to the farther bank, whence it is but an hour's journey on
+foot to Kundaghat."
+
+There was a coaxing touch about all this which was not lost upon Beryl.
+He was horribly ugly, she thought to herself, with that hideous red
+smear across his dusky face; but in spite of this she felt no fear.
+Unprepossessing he might be, but he was in no sense formidable.
+
+As she stood considering him he stooped and, lifting his basket, stepped
+with his sandalled feet into the stream. His long white garment trailed
+unheeded upon the water which rose above his knees as he proceeded.
+
+Reaching the further bank, he deposited his burden and at once turned
+back. Beryl was waiting for him. For some reason unknown even to
+herself, she had made up her mind to trust this old man.
+
+"If the most gracious will deign to rest her arm upon my shoulder," he
+suggested, in his meek quaver.
+
+And without further demur she complied.
+
+The moment he lifted her she knew that his strength was fully equal to
+the venture. His arms were like steel springs. He grunted a little to
+himself as he bore her across, but he neither paused nor faltered till
+he set her upon the bank.
+
+"The _mem-sahib_ will soon see the road to Kundaghat," he observed then.
+"She has but three miles yet to go."
+
+"Only three miles to Kundaghat!" she ejaculated in amazement.
+
+"Only three miles, most gracious." For the first time a hint of pride
+was mingled with the humility in his reedy voice. "The _mem-sahib_ has
+travelled hither by a way that few know."
+
+Beryl was fairly amazed at the news. She had believed herself to be many
+miles away. She began to wonder if her friend in need would consider the
+few rupees she had left adequate reward for his pains. Since she had
+parted with Fletcher's gift, she reflected that she had nothing else of
+value to bestow.
+
+The way now lay uphill, and all undergrowth soon ceased. They came out
+at last through thinning pine trees upon the crest of the rise, and from
+here, a considerable distance below, Beryl discerned the road along
+which she had travelled with Fletcher that morning.
+
+White and glaring it stretched below her, till at last a grove of mango
+trees, which she remembered to be less than a mile from Kundaghat,
+closed about it, hiding it from view.
+
+"The _mem-sahib_ will need her servant no more," said her guide, pausing
+slightly behind her while she studied the landscape at her feet with the
+road that wound through the valley.
+
+She took out her purse quickly, and shook its contents into her hand. He
+had been as good as his word, but she knew she had but little to offer
+him unless he would accompany her all the way to Kundaghat. She stopped
+to count the money before she turned--two rupees and eight annas. It did
+not seem a very adequate reward for the service he had rendered her.
+
+With this thought in her mind she slowly turned.
+
+"This is all I have with me--" she began to say, and broke off with the
+words half-uttered.
+
+She was addressing empty air! The snake-charmer had vanished!
+
+She stood staring blankly. She had not been aware of any movement. It
+was as if the earth had suddenly and silently gaped and swallowed him
+while her back was turned.
+
+In breathless astonishment she moved this way and that, searching for
+him among the trees that seemed to grow too sparsely to afford a screen.
+But she searched in vain. He had clean gone, and had taken his repulsive
+pet with him.
+
+Obviously, then, he had not done this thing for the sake of reward.
+
+A sense of uneasiness began to possess her, and she started at last upon
+her downward way, feeling as if the place were haunted.
+
+With relief she reached the road at length, and commenced the last stage
+of the return journey. The heat was terrific. She was intensely weary,
+and beginning to be footsore. At a turn in the road she paused a moment,
+looking back at the pine-clad hill from which she had come; and as she
+did so, distinct, though far away behind her, there floated through the
+midday silence the curious note of a jay. It sounded to her bewildered
+senses like a cracked, discordant laugh.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+On the following afternoon Major Fletcher called, but he was not
+admitted. Beryl was receiving no one that day, and sent him an
+uncompromising message to that effect. He lingered to inquire after her
+health, and, on being told that she had overtired herself and was
+resting, expressed his polite regret and withdrew.
+
+After that, somewhat to Beryl's surprise, he came no more to the
+bungalow.
+
+She remained in seclusion for several days after her adventure, so that
+fully a week passed before they met.
+
+It was while out riding one morning with Mrs. Ellis that she first
+encountered him. The meeting was unexpected, and, conscious of a sudden
+rush of blood to her cheeks, she bestowed upon him her haughtiest bow.
+His grave acknowledgment thereof was wholly without effrontery, and he
+made no attempt to speak to her.
+
+"Have you quarrelled with the Major?" asked Nina, as they rode on.
+
+"Of course not," Beryl answered, with a hint of impatience.
+
+But she knew that if she wished to appear at her ease she must not be
+too icy. She felt a very decided reluctance to take her friend into her
+confidence with regard to the Farabad episode. There were times when she
+wondered herself if she were altogether justified in condemning Major
+Fletcher unheard, in spite of the evidence against him. But she had no
+intention of giving him an opportunity to vindicate himself if she could
+possibly avoid doing so.
+
+In this, however, circumstances proved too strong for her. They were
+bound to meet sooner or later, and Fate ordained that when this should
+occur she should be more or less at his mercy.
+
+The occasion was an affair of some importance, being a reception at the
+palace of the native prince who dwelt at Farabad. It promised to be a
+function of supreme magnificence; it was, in fact, the chief event of
+the season, and the Anglo-Indian society of Kundaghat attended it in
+force.
+
+Beryl went with the Commissioner and his wife, but in the crowd of
+acquaintances that surrounded her almost from the moment of her arrival
+she very speedily drifted away from them. One after another claimed her
+attention, and almost before she knew it she found herself moving
+unattached through the throng.
+
+She was keenly interested in the brilliant scene about her. Flashing
+jewels and gorgeous costumes made a glittering wonderland, through which
+she moved as one beneath a spell. The magic of the East was everywhere;
+it filled the atmosphere as with a heavy fragrance.
+
+She had withdrawn a little from the stream of guests, and was standing
+slightly apart, watching the gorgeous spectacle in the splendidly
+lighted hall, when a tall figure, dressed in regimentals, came quietly
+up and stood beside her.
+
+With a start she recognised Fletcher. He bent towards her instantly, and
+spoke.
+
+"I trust that you have now quite recovered from your fatigue, Mrs.
+Denvers."
+
+She controlled her flush before it had time to overwhelm her.
+
+"Quite, thank you," she replied, speaking stiffly because she could not
+at the moment bring herself to do otherwise.
+
+He stood beside her for a space in silence, and she wondered greatly
+what was passing in his mind.
+
+At length, "May I take you to have some supper?" he asked. "Or would you
+care to go outside? The gardens are worth a visit."
+
+Beryl hesitated momentarily. To have supper with him meant a prolonged
+_tête-à-tête_, whereas merely to go outside for a few minutes among a
+host of people could not involve her in any serious embarrassment. She
+could leave him at any moment if she desired. She was sure to see some
+of her acquaintances. Moreover, to seem to avoid him would make him
+think she was afraid of him, and her pride would not permit this
+possibility.
+
+"Let us go outside for a little, then," she said.
+
+He offered her his arm, and the next moment was leading her through a
+long, thickly carpeted passage to a flight of marble steps that led
+downwards into the palace-garden.
+
+He did not speak at all; and she, without glancing at him, was aware of
+a very decided constraint in his silence. She would not be disconcerted
+by it. She was determined to maintain a calm attitude; but her heart
+quickened a little in spite of her. She saw that he had chosen an exit
+that would lead them away from the crowd.
+
+Dumbly they descended the steps, Fletcher unhesitatingly drawing her
+forward. The garden was a marvel of many-coloured lights, intricate and
+bewildering as a maze. Its paths were all carpeted, and their feet made
+no sound. It was like a dream-world.
+
+Here and there were nooks and glades of deepest shadow. Through one of
+these, without a pause, Fletcher led her, emerging at length into a
+wonderful fairyland where all was blue--a twilight haunt, where
+countless tiny globes of light nestled like sapphires upon every shrub
+and tree, and a slender fountain rose and fell tinkling in a shallow
+basin of blue stone.
+
+A small arbour, domed and pillared like a temple, stood beside the
+fountain, and as they ascended its marble steps a strong scent of
+sandalwood fell like a haze of incense upon Beryl's senses.
+
+There was no light within the arbour, and on the threshold instinctively
+she stopped short. They were as much alone as if miles instead of yards
+separated them from the buzzing crowds about the palace.
+
+Instantly Fletcher spoke.
+
+"Go in, won't you? It isn't really dark. There is probably a couch with
+rugs and cushions."
+
+There was, and she sat down upon it, sinking so low in downy luxuriance
+that she found herself resting not far from the floor. But, looking out
+through the marble latticework into the blue twilight, she was somewhat
+reassured. Though thick foliage obscured the stars, it was not really
+dark, as he had said.
+
+Fletcher seated himself upon the top step, almost touching her. He
+seemed in no hurry to speak.
+
+The only sound that broke the stillness was the babble of the fountain,
+and from far away the fitful strains of a band of stringed instruments.
+
+Slowly at length he turned his head, just as his silence was becoming
+too oppressive to be borne.
+
+"Mrs. Denvers," he said, his voice very deliberate and even, "I want to
+know what happened that day at Farabad to make you decide that I was not
+a fit escort for you."
+
+It had come, then. He meant to have a reckoning with her. A sharp tingle
+of dismay went through her as she realised it. She made a quick effort
+to avert his suspicion.
+
+"I wandered, and lost my way," she said. "And then I met an old native,
+who showed me a short cut. I ought, perhaps, to have written and
+explained."
+
+"That was not all that happened," Fletcher responded gravely. "Of
+course, you can refuse to tell me any more. I am absolutely at your
+mercy. But I do not think you will refuse. It isn't treating me quite
+fairly, is it, to keep me in the dark?"
+
+She saw at once that to fence with him further was out of the question.
+Quite plainly he meant to bring her to book. But she felt painfully
+unequal to the ordeal before her. She was conscious of an almost
+physical sense of shrinking.
+
+Nevertheless, as he waited, she nerved herself at length to speak.
+
+"What makes you think that something happened?"
+
+"It is fairly obvious, is it not?" he returned quietly. "I could not
+very easily think otherwise. If you will allow me to say so, your device
+was not quite subtle enough to pass muster. Even had you dropped that
+bangle by inadvertence--which you did not--you would not, in the
+ordinary course of things, have sent me off post haste to recover it."
+
+"No?" she questioned, with a faint attempt to laugh.
+
+"No," he rejoined, and this time she heard a note of anger, deep and
+unmistakable, in his voice.
+
+She drew herself together as it reached her. It was to be a battle,
+then, and instinctively she knew that she would need all her strength.
+
+"Well," she said finally, affecting an assurance she was far from
+feeling, "I have no objection to your knowing what happened since you
+have asked. In fact, perhaps,--as you suggest,--it is scarcely fair that
+you should not know."
+
+"Thank you," he responded, with a hint of irony.
+
+But she found it difficult to begin, and she could not hide it from him,
+for he was closely watching her.
+
+He softened a little as he perceived this.
+
+"Pray don't be agitated," he said. "I do not for a moment question that
+your reason for what you did was a good one. I am only asking you to
+tell me what it was."
+
+"I know," she answered. "But it will make you angry, and that is why I
+hesitate."
+
+He leaned towards her slightly.
+
+"Can it matter to you whether I am angry or not?"
+
+She shivered a little.
+
+"I never offend any one if I can help it. I think it is a mistake.
+However, you have asked for it. What happened was this. It was when you
+left me to get some water. An old man, a native, came and spoke to me.
+Perhaps I was foolish to listen, but I could scarcely have done
+otherwise. And he told me--he told me that the accident to the dog-cart
+was not--not--" She paused, searching for a word.
+
+"Genuine," suggested Fletcher very quietly.
+
+She accepted the word. The narration was making her very nervous.
+
+"Yes, genuine. He told me that the _saice_ had cracked the shaft
+beforehand, that there was no possibility of getting it repaired at
+Farabad, that he would have to return to Kundaghat and might not,
+probably would not, come back for us before the following morning."
+
+Haltingly, rather breathlessly, the story came from her lips. It sounded
+monstrous as she uttered it. She could not look at Fletcher, but she
+knew that he was angry; something in the intense stillness of his
+attitude told her this.
+
+"Please go on," he said, as she paused. "You undertook to tell me the
+whole truth, remember."
+
+With difficulty she continued.
+
+"He told me that the mare was frightened by a trick, that you chose the
+hill-road because it was lonely and difficult. He told me exactly what
+you would say when you came back. And--and you said it."
+
+"And that decided you to play a trick upon me and escape?" questioned
+Fletcher. "Your friend's suggestion, I presume?"
+
+His words fell with cold precision; they sounded as if they came through
+his teeth.
+
+She assented almost inaudibly. He made her feel contemptible.
+
+"And afterwards?" he asked relentlessly.
+
+She made a final effort; there was that in his manner that frightened
+her.
+
+"Afterwards, he gave a signal--it was the cry of a jay--for me to
+follow. And he led me over the hill to a stream where he waited for me.
+We crossed it together, and very soon after he pointed out the
+valley-road below us, and left me."
+
+"You rewarded him?" demanded Fletcher swiftly.
+
+"No; I--I was prepared to do so, but he disappeared."
+
+"What was he like?"
+
+She hesitated.
+
+"Mrs. Denvers!" His tone was peremptory.
+
+"I do not feel bound to tell you that," she said, in a low voice.
+
+"I have a right to know it," he responded firmly.
+
+And after a moment she gave in. The man was probably far away by this
+time. She knew that the fair was over.
+
+"It was--the old snake-charmer."
+
+"The man we saw at Farabad?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Fletcher received the information in silence, and several seconds
+dragged away while he digested it. She even began to wonder if he meant
+to say anything further, almost expecting him to get up and stalk away,
+too furious for speech.
+
+But at length, very unexpectedly and very quietly, he spoke.
+
+"Would it be of any use for me to protest my innocence?"
+
+She did not know how to answer him.
+
+He proceeded with scarcely a pause:
+
+"It seems to me that my guilt has been taken for granted in such a
+fashion that any attempt on my part to clear myself would be so much
+wasted effort. It simply remains for you to pass sentence."
+
+She lifted her head for the first time, startled out of all composure.
+His cool treatment of the matter was more disconcerting than any
+vehement protestations. It was almost as though he acknowledged the
+offence and swept it aside with the same breath as of no account. Yet it
+was incredible, this view of the case. There must be some explanation.
+He would never dare to insult her thus.
+
+Impulsively she rose, inaction becoming unendurable. He stood up
+instantly, and they faced one another in the weird blue twilight.
+
+"I think I have misunderstood you!" she said breathlessly, and there
+stopped dead, for something--something in his face arrested her.
+
+The words froze upon her lips. She drew back with a swift, instinctive
+movement. In one flashing second of revelation unmistakable she knew
+that she had done him no injustice. Her eyes had met his, and had sunk
+dismayed before the fierce passion that had flamed back at her.
+
+In the pause that followed she heard her own heartbeats, quick and hard,
+like the flying feet of a hunted animal. Then--for she was a woman, and
+instinct guided her--she covered up her sudden fear, and faced him with
+stately courage.
+
+"Let us go back," she said.
+
+"You have nothing to say to me?" he asked.
+
+She shook her head in silence, and made as if to depart.
+
+But he stood before her, hemming her in. He did not appear to notice her
+gesture.
+
+"But I have something to say to you!" he said. And in his voice, for all
+its quietness, was a note that made her tremble. "Something to which I
+claim it as my right that you should listen."
+
+She faced him proudly, though she was white to the lips.
+
+"I thought you had refused to plead your innocence," she said.
+
+"I have," he returned. "I do. But yet----"
+
+"Then I will not hear another word," she broke in. "Let me pass!"
+
+She was splendid as she stood there confronting him, perhaps more
+splendid than she had ever been before. She had reached the ripe beauty
+of her womanhood. She would never be more magnificent than she was at
+that moment. The magic of her went to the man's head like wine. Till
+that instant he had to a great extent controlled himself, but that was
+the turning-point. She dazzled him, she intoxicated him, she maddened
+him.
+
+The savagery in him flared into a red blaze of passion. Without another
+word he caught her suddenly to him, and before she could begin to
+realise his intention he had kissed her fiercely upon the lips.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+The moments that followed were like a ghastly nightmare to Beryl, for,
+struggle as she might, she knew herself to be helpless. Having once
+passed the bounds of civilisation, he gave full rein to his savagery.
+And again and yet again, holding her crushed to him, he kissed her
+shrinking face. He was as a man possessed, and once he laughed--a
+devilish laugh--at the weakness of her resistance.
+
+And then quite suddenly she felt his grip relax. He let her go abruptly,
+so that she tottered and almost fell, only saving herself by one of the
+pillars of the arbour.
+
+A great surging was in her brain, a surging that nearly deafened her.
+She was too spent, too near to swooning, to realise what it was that had
+wrought her deliverance. She could only cling gasping and quivering to
+her support while the tumult within her gradually subsided.
+
+It was several seconds later that she began to be aware of something
+happening, of some commotion very near to her, of trampling to and fro,
+and now and again of a voice that cursed. These things quickly goaded
+her to a fuller consciousness. Exhausted though she was, she managed to
+collect her senses and look down upon the spectacle below her.
+
+There, on the edge of the fountain, two figures swayed and fought. One
+of them she saw at a glance was Fletcher. She had a glimpse of his face
+in the uncanny gloom, and it was set and devilish, bestial in its
+cruelty. The other--the other--she stared and gasped and stared
+again--the other, beyond all possibility of doubt, was the ancient
+snake-charmer of Farabad.
+
+Yet it was he who cursed--and cursed in excellent English--with a
+fluency that none but English lips could possibly have achieved. And the
+reason for his eloquence was not far to seek. For he was being thrashed,
+thrashed scientifically, mercilessly, and absolutely thoroughly--by the
+man whom he had dared to thwart.
+
+He was draped as before in his long native garment--and this, though it
+hung in tatters, hampered his movements, and must have placed him at a
+hopeless disadvantage even had he not been completely outmatched in the
+first place.
+
+Standing on the steps above them, Beryl took in the whole situation, and
+in a trice her own weakness was a thing of the past. Amazed,
+incredulous, bewildered as she was, the urgent need for action drove all
+questioning from her mind. There was no time for that. With a cry, she
+sprang downwards.
+
+And in that instant Fletcher delivered a smashing blow with the whole of
+his strength, and struck his opponent down.
+
+He fell with a thud, striking his head against the marble of the
+fountain, and to Beryl's horror he did not rise again. He simply lay as
+he had fallen, with arms flung wide and face upturned, motionless,
+inanimate as a thing of stone.
+
+In an agony she dropped upon her knees beside him.
+
+"You brute!" she cried to Fletcher. "Oh, you brute!"
+
+She heard him laugh in answer, a fierce and cruel laugh, but she paid no
+further heed to him. She was trying to raise the fallen man, dabbing the
+blood that ran from a cut on his temple, lifting his head to lie in the
+hollow of her arm. Her incredulity had wholly passed. She knew him now
+beyond all question. He would never manage to deceive her again.
+
+"Speak to me! Oh, do speak to me!" she entreated. "Ronald, open your
+eyes! Please open your eyes!"
+
+"He is only stunned." It was Fletcher's voice above her. "Leave him
+alone. He will soon come to his senses. Serves him right for acting the
+clown in this get-up."
+
+She looked up sharply at that and a perfect tempest of indignation took
+possession of her, banishing all fear.
+
+"What he did," she said, in a voice that shook uncontrollably, "was for
+my sake alone, that he might be able to protect me from cads and
+blackguards. I refuse to leave him like this, but the sooner you go, the
+better. I will never--never as long as I live--speak to you again!"
+
+Her blazing eyes, and the positive fury of her voice, must have carried
+conviction to the most obtuse, and this Fletcher certainly was not. He
+stood a moment, looking down at her with an insolence that might have
+frightened her a little earlier, but which now she met with a new
+strength that he felt himself powerless to dominate. She was not
+thinking of herself at all just then, and perhaps that was the secret of
+her ascendancy. His own brute force crumbled to nothing before it, and
+he knew that he was beaten.
+
+Without a word he bowed to her, smiling ironically, and turned upon his
+heel.
+
+She drew a great breath of relief as she saw him go. She felt as though
+a horrible oppression had passed out of the atmosphere. That fairy haunt
+with its bubbling fountain and sapphire lamps was no longer an evil
+place.
+
+She bent again over her senseless companion.
+
+"Ronald!" she whispered. "My dear, my dear, can't you hear me? Oh, if
+only you would open your eyes!"
+
+She soaked her handkerchief in the water and held it to the wound upon
+his forehead. Even as she did it, she felt him stir, and the next moment
+his eyes were open, gazing straight up into her own.
+
+"Damn the brute!" said Lord Ronald faintly.
+
+"You are better?" she whispered thankfully.
+
+His hand came upwards gropingly, and took the soaked handkerchief from
+her. He dabbed his face with it, and slowly, with her assistance, sat
+up.
+
+"Where is he?" he asked.
+
+"He has gone," she told him. "I--ordered him to go."
+
+"Better late than never," said Lord Ronald thoughtfully.
+
+He leaned upon the edge of the fountain, still mopping the blood from
+his face, till, suddenly feeling his beard, he stripped it off with a
+gesture of impatience.
+
+"Afraid I must have given you a nasty shock," he said. "I didn't expect
+to be mauled like this."
+
+"Please--please don't apologise," she begged him, with a sound that was
+meant for a laugh, but was in effect more like a sob.
+
+He turned towards her in his slow way.
+
+"I'm not apologising. Only--you know--I've taken something of a liberty,
+though, on my honour, it was well meant. If you can overlook that----"
+
+"I shall never overlook it," she said tremulously.
+
+He put the _chuddah_ back from his head and regarded her gravely. His
+face was swollen and discoloured, but this fact did not in the smallest
+degree lessen the quaint self-assurance of his demeanour.
+
+"Yes, but you mustn't cry about it," he said gently. "And you mustn't
+blame yourself either. I knew the fellow, remember; you didn't."
+
+"I didn't know you, either," she said, sitting down on the edge of the
+fountain. "I--I've been a perfect fool!"
+
+Silence followed this statement. She did not know quite whether she
+expected Lord Ronald to agree with her or to protest against the
+severity of her self-arraignment, but she found his silence peculiarly
+hard to bear.
+
+She had almost begun to resent it, when suddenly, very softly, he spoke:
+
+"It's never too late to mend, is it?"
+
+"I don't know," she answered. "I almost think it is--at my age."
+
+He dipped her handkerchief again in the fountain, and dabbed his face
+afresh. Then:
+
+"Don't you think you might try?" he suggested, in his speculative drawl.
+
+She shook her head rather drearily.
+
+"I suppose I shall have to resign myself, and get a companion. I shall
+hate it, and so will the companion, but----"
+
+"Think so?" said Lord Ronald. He laid his hand quietly on her knee.
+"Mrs. Denvers," he said, "I am afraid you thought me awfully impertinent
+when I suggested your marrying me the other day. It wasn't very
+ingenious of me, I admit. But what can you expect from a nonentity? Not
+brains, surely! I am not going to repeat the blunder. I know very well
+that I am no bigger than a peppercorn in your estimation, and we will
+leave it at that. But, you know, you are too young, you really are too
+young, to live alone. Now listen a moment. You trust me. You said so.
+You'll stick to that?"
+
+"Of course," she said, wondering greatly what was coming.
+
+"Then will you," he proceeded very quietly, "have me for a watch-dog
+until you marry again? I could make you an excellent Sikh servant, and I
+could go with you practically everywhere. Don't begin to laugh at the
+suggestion until you have thoroughly considered it. It could be done in
+such a way that no one would suspect. It matters nothing to any one how
+I pass my time, and I may as well do something useful for once. I know
+at first sight it seems impossible, but it is nothing of the sort in
+reality. It isn't the first time I have faked as a native. I am Indian
+born, and I have spent the greater part of my life knocking about the
+Empire. The snake-taming business I picked up from an old bearer of
+mine--a very old man he's now and in the trade himself. I got him to
+lend me his most docile cobra. The thing was harmless, of course. But
+all this is beside the point. The point is, will you put up with me as a
+retainer, no more, until you find some one more worthy of the high
+honour of guarding you? I shall never, believe me, take advantage of
+your kindness. And on the day you marry again I shall resign my post."
+
+She had listened to the amazing suggestion in unbroken silence, and even
+when he paused she did not at once speak. Her head was bent, almost as
+though she did not wish him to see her face--he, the peppercorn, the
+nonentity, whose opinion mattered so little!
+
+Yet as he waited, still with that quiet hand upon her as though to
+assure her of his solidity, his trustworthiness, she spoke at last, in a
+voice so small that it sounded almost humble.
+
+"But, Lord Ronald, I--I may never marry again. My late marriage was--was
+such a grievous mistake. I was so young at the time, and--and----"
+
+"Don't tell me," he said gently.
+
+"But--but--if I never marry again?" she persisted.
+
+"Then--unless, of course, you dismiss me--I shall be with you for all
+time," he said.
+
+She made a slight, involuntary movement, and he took his hand away.
+
+"Will you think it over before you decide?" he said. "I will come to
+you, as soon as I am presentable, for your answer. For the present,
+would you not be wise to go back to your friends? I am too disreputable
+to escort you, but I will watch you to the palace steps."
+
+He got to his feet as he spoke. He was still absently mopping his face
+with the scrap of lace he had taken from her.
+
+Beryl stood up also. She wanted to be gracious to him, but she was
+unaccountably shy. No words would come.
+
+He waited courteously.
+
+At last:
+
+"Lord Ronald," she said with difficulty, "I know you are in earnest. But
+do you--do you really wish to be taken at your word?"
+
+He raised his eyebrows as if the question slightly surprised him.
+
+"Certainly," he said.
+
+Still she stood hesitating.
+
+"I wish you would tell me why," she said, almost under her breath.
+
+"Why?" he repeated uncomprehendingly.
+
+"Yes, why you wish to safeguard me in this fashion," she explained, in
+evident embarrassment.
+
+"Oh, that!" he said slowly. "I suppose it is because I happen to care
+for your safety."
+
+"Yes?" she murmured, still pausing.
+
+He looked at her with his straight grey eyes that were so perfectly true
+and kind.
+
+"That's all," he said, and smiled upon her reassuringly.
+
+Beryl uttered a sharp sigh and let the matter drop. Nonentity though he
+might be, she would have given much for a glimpse of his inner soul just
+then.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+For three days after the reception at Farabad Beryl Denvers returned to
+her seclusion, and during those three days she devoted the whole of her
+attention to the plan that Lord Ronald Prior had laid before her. It
+worried her a good deal. There were so many obstacles to its
+satisfactory fulfilment. She wished he had not been so pleasantly vague
+regarding his own feelings in the matter. Of course, it was a
+feather-brained scheme from start to finish, and yet in a fashion it
+attracted her. He was so splendidly safe, so absolutely reliable; she
+needed just such a protector. And yet--and yet--there were so many
+obstacles.
+
+On the fourth day Lord Ronald's card was brought to her. He did not call
+at the conventional hour, and the reason for this was not hard to
+fathom. He had come for her final decision, and he desired to see her
+alone.
+
+She did not know how to meet him or what to say, but it was useless to
+shirk the interview. She entered her drawing-room with decidedly
+heightened colour, even while telling herself that it was absurd to feel
+any embarrassment in his presence.
+
+He was waiting for her on his favourite perch, the music-stool, swinging
+idly to and fro, with his customary serenity of demeanour. He moved to
+meet her with a quiet smile of welcome. A piece of strapping-plaster
+across his left temple was all that remained of his recent
+disfigurement.
+
+"I hope my visit is not premature," he remarked as he shook hands.
+
+"Oh, no!" she answered somewhat nervously. "I expected you. Please sit
+down."
+
+He subsided again upon the music-stool, and there followed a silence
+which she found peculiarly disconcerting.
+
+"You have been thinking over my suggestion?" he drawled at length.
+
+"Yes," she said. "Yes, I have." She paused a moment, then, "I--am afraid
+it wouldn't answer," she said, with an effort, "though I am very
+grateful to you for thinking of it. You see, there are so many
+obstacles."
+
+"But not insurmountable, any of them," smiled Lord Ronald.
+
+"I am afraid so," she said.
+
+He looked at her.
+
+"May I not hear what they are?"
+
+She hesitated.
+
+"For one thing, you know," she said, "one pays one's servants."
+
+"Well, but you can pay me," he said simply. "I shall not ask very high
+wages. I am easily satisfied. I shouldn't call that an obstacle."
+
+She laughed a little.
+
+"But that isn't all. There is the danger of being found out. It--it
+would make it rather awkward, wouldn't it? People would talk."
+
+"No one ever talks scandal of me," said Lord Ronald comfortably. "I am
+considered eccentric, but quite incapable of anything serious. I don't
+think you need be afraid. There really isn't the smallest danger of my
+being discovered, and even if I were, I could tell the truth, you know.
+People always believe what I say."
+
+She smiled involuntarily at his simplicity, but she shook her head.
+
+"It really wouldn't do," she said.
+
+"What! More obstacles?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, one--the greatest of all, in my opinion." She got up and moved
+across the room, he pivoting slowly round to watch her.
+
+She came to a stand by her writing-table, and began to turn over a
+packet of letters that lay there. She did it mechanically, with hands
+that shook a little. Her face was turned away from him.
+
+He waited for a few seconds; then, as she still remained silent, he
+spoke.
+
+"What is this last obstacle, Mrs. Denvers?"
+
+She answered him with her head bent, her fingers still fluttering the
+papers before her.
+
+"You," she said, in a low voice. "You yourself."
+
+"Me!" said Lord Ronald, in evident astonishment.
+
+She nodded without speaking.
+
+"But--I'm sorry," he said pathetically, "I'm afraid I don't quite follow
+you. I am not famed for my wits, as you know."
+
+She laughed at that, unexpectedly and quite involuntarily; and though
+she was instantly serious again the laugh served to clear away some of
+her embarrassment.
+
+"Oh, but you are absurd," she said, "to talk like that. No dull-witted
+person could ever have done what you have been doing lately. Major
+Fletcher himself told me that day we went to Farabad that it needed
+sharp wits to pose as a native among natives. He also said--" She paused
+suddenly.
+
+"Yes?" said Lord Ronald.
+
+She glanced round at him momentarily.
+
+"I don't know why I should repeat it. It is quite beside the point. He
+also said that it entailed a risk that no one would care to take
+unless--unless there was something substantial to be gained by it."
+
+"Well, but there was," said Lord Ronald vaguely.
+
+"Meaning my safety?" she questioned.
+
+"Exactly," he said.
+
+She became silent; but she fidgeted no longer with her papers. She was
+making up her mind to take a bold step.
+
+"Lord Ronald," she said at last, "I am going to ask you a very direct--a
+horribly direct--question. Will you answer me quite directly too?
+And--and--tell me the truth, even if it sounds rather brutal?"
+
+There was an unmistakable appeal in her voice. With an effort she
+wheeled in her chair, and fully faced him. But she was so plainly
+distressed that even he could not fail to notice it.
+
+"What is it?" he said kindly. "I will tell you the truth, of course. I
+always do."
+
+"You promise?" she said, very earnestly.
+
+"Certainly I promise," he said.
+
+"Then--you must forgive my asking, but I must know, and I can't find out
+in any other way--Lord Ronald, are you--are you in love with me?"
+
+She saw the grey eyes widen in astonishment, and was conscious of a
+moment of overwhelming embarrassment; and then, slow and emphatic, his
+answer came, banishing all misgiving.
+
+"But of course I am," he said. "I thought you knew."
+
+She summoned to her aid an indignation she was far from feeling; she had
+to cloak her confusion somehow. "How could I possibly know?" she said.
+"You never told me."
+
+"I asked you to marry me," he protested. "I thought you would take the
+other thing for granted."
+
+She stood up abruptly, turning from him. It was impossible to keep up
+her indignation. It simply declined to carry her through.
+
+"You--you are a perfect idiot!" she said shakily. And on the words she
+tried to laugh, but only succeeded in partially smothering a sob.
+
+"Oh, I say!" said Lord Ronald. He got up awkwardly, and stood behind
+her. "Please don't take it to heart," he urged. "I shouldn't have told
+you, only--you know--you asked. And it wouldn't make any difference, on
+my honour it wouldn't. Won't you take my word for it, and give me a
+trial?"
+
+"No," she said.
+
+"Why not?" he persisted. "Don't you think you are rather hard on me? I
+shall never take a single inch more than you care to allow."
+
+She turned upon him suddenly. Her cheeks were burning and her eyes were
+wet, but she no longer cared about his seeing these details.
+
+"What did you mean?" she demanded unexpectedly, "by saying to me that
+those fight hardest who fight in vain?"
+
+He was not in the least disconcerted.
+
+"I meant that though you might send me about my business you would not
+quite manage to shake me off altogether."
+
+"Meaning that you would refuse to go?" she asked, with a quiver that
+might have been anger in her voice.
+
+"Meaning," he responded quietly, "that though you might deny me
+yourself, it might not be in your power to deny me the pleasure of
+serving you."
+
+"And is it not in my power?" she asked swiftly.
+
+He was looking at her very intently.
+
+"No," he said in his most deliberate drawl. "I don't think it is."
+
+"But it is," she asserted, meeting his look with blazing eyes. "You
+cannot possibly enter my service without my consent. And--and--I am not
+going to consent to that mad scheme of yours."
+
+"No?" he said.
+
+"No," she repeated with emphasis. "You yourself are the obstacle, as I
+said before. If--if you had not been in love with me, I might have
+considered it. But--now--it is out of the question. Moreover," her eyes
+shot suddenly downwards, as though to hide their fire, "I shall not want
+that sort of protector now."
+
+"No?" he said again, very softly this time. He was standing straight
+before her, still closely watching her with that in his eyes that he had
+never permitted there before.
+
+"No!" she repeated once more, and again brokenly she laughed; then
+suddenly raised her eyes to his, and gave him both her hands
+impetuously, confidingly, yet with a certain shyness notwithstanding.
+"I--I am going to marry again after all," she said, "if--if you will
+have me."
+
+"My dear," said Lord Ronald, very tenderly, "I always meant to!"
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                                 Her Hero
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE AMERICAN COUSIN
+
+
+"My dear child, it's absurd to be romantic over such a serious matter as
+marriage--the greatest mistake, I assure you. Nothing could be more
+suitable than an alliance with this very eligible young man. He plainly
+thinks so himself. If you are so unreasonable as to throw away this
+magnificent chance, I shall really feel inclined to give you up in
+despair."
+
+The soft, drawling accents fell with a gentle sigh through the perfumed
+silence of the speaker's boudoir. She was an elderly woman, beautiful,
+with that delicate, china-like beauty that never fades from youth to
+age. Not even Lady Raffold's enemies had ever disputed the fact of her
+beauty, not even her stepdaughter, firmly though she despised her.
+
+She sat behind the tea-table, this stepdaughter, dark and inscrutable, a
+grave, unresponsive listener. Her grey eyes never varied as Lady
+Raffold's protest came lispingly through the quiet room. She might have
+been turning over some altogether irrelevant problem at the back of her
+mind. It was this girl's way to hide herself behind a shield of apparent
+preoccupation when anything jarred upon her.
+
+"I need scarcely tell you what it would mean to your father," went on
+the soft voice. "Ever since poor Mortimer's death it has fretted him
+terribly to think that the estates must pass out of the direct line.
+Indeed, he hardly feels that the present heir belongs to the family at
+all. The American branch has always seemed so remote. But now that the
+young man is actually coming over to see his inheritance, it does seem
+such a Heaven-sent chance for you. You know, dear, it's your sixth
+season. You really ought to think seriously of getting settled. I am
+sure it would be a great weight off my mind to see you suitably married.
+And this young Cochrane is sure to take a reasonable view of the matter.
+Americans are so admirably practical. And, of course, if your father
+could leave all his money to the estates, as this marriage would enable
+him to do, it would be a very excellent arrangement for all concerned."
+
+The girl at the tea-table made a slight--a very slight--movement that
+scarcely amounted to a gesture of impatience. The gentle drone of her
+stepmother's voice was becoming monotonous. But she said nothing
+whatever, and her expression did not change.
+
+A faintly fretful note crept into Lady Raffold's tone when she spoke
+again.
+
+"You're so unreasonable, Priscilla. I really haven't a notion what you
+actually want. You might have been a duchess by this time, as all the
+world knows, if you had only been reasonable. How is it--why is it--that
+you are so hard to please?"
+
+Lady Priscilla raised her eyelids momentarily.
+
+"I don't think you would understand, Charlotte, if I were to tell you,"
+she said, in a voice of such deep music that it seemed incapable of
+bitterness.
+
+"Some ridiculous sentimentality, no doubt," said Lady Raffold.
+
+"I am sure you would call it so."
+
+A faint flush rose in the girl's dark face. She looked at her stepmother
+no longer, but began very quietly and steadily to make the tea.
+
+Lady Raffold waited a few seconds for her confidence, but she waited in
+vain. Lady Priscilla had retired completely behind her shield, and it
+was quite obvious that she had no intention of exposing herself any
+further to stray shots.
+
+Her stepmother was exasperated, but she found it difficult to say
+anything more upon the subject in face of this impenetrability. She
+could only solace herself with the reflection that the American cousin,
+who had become heir to the earldom and estates of Raffold, would almost
+certainly take a more common-sense view of the matter, and, if that were
+so, a little pressure from the girl's father, whom she idolised, would
+probably be sufficient to settle it according to her desires.
+
+It was so plainly Priscilla's duty to marry the young man. The whole
+thing seemed to be planned and cut out by Providence. And it was but
+natural that Ralph Cochrane should see it in the same light. For it was
+understood that he was not rich, and it would be greatly to his interest
+to marry Earl Raffold's only surviving child.
+
+So Lady Raffold reasoned to herself as Priscilla poured out the tea in
+serious silence, and she gradually soothed her own annoyance by the
+process.
+
+"Come," she said at length, breaking a long silence, "I should think
+Ralph Cochrane will be in England in ten days at the latest. We must not
+be too formal with him as he is a relation. Shall we ask him to luncheon
+on the Sunday after next?"
+
+Priscilla did not at once reply. When at length she looked up, it was
+with the air of one coming out of a reverie.
+
+"Oh, yes, if you like, Charlotte," she said, in her deep, quiet voice.
+"No doubt he will amuse you. I know you always enjoy Americans."
+
+"And you, my dear?" said Lady Raffold, with just a hint of sharpness in
+her tone.
+
+"I?" Again her stepdaughter paused a little, as if collecting her
+thoughts. "I shall not be here," she said finally. "I have decided to go
+down to Raffold for midsummer week, and I don't suppose I shall hurry
+back. It won't matter, will it? I often think that you entertain best
+alone. And I am so tired of London heat and dust."
+
+There was an unconscious note of wistfulness in the beautiful voice, but
+its dominant virtue was determination.
+
+Lady Raffold realised at once to her unspeakable indignation that
+protest was useless.
+
+"Really, Priscilla," was all she found to say, "I am amazed--yes,
+amazed--at your total lack of consideration."
+
+But Priscilla was quite unimpressed.
+
+"You won't have time to miss me," she said. "I don't think any one will,
+except, perhaps, Dad; and he always knows where to find me."
+
+"Your father will certainly not leave town before the end of the
+season," said Lady Raffold, raising her voice slightly.
+
+"Poor dear Dad!" murmured Priscilla.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE ROMANCE OF HER LIFE
+
+
+"And so I escaped. Her ladyship didn't like it, but it was worth a
+tussle."
+
+Priscilla leaned back luxuriously in the housekeeper's room at Raffold
+Abbey, and laughed upon a deep note of satisfaction. She had discarded
+all things fashionable with her departure from London in the height of
+the season. The crumpled linen hat she wore was designed for comfort and
+not for elegance. Her gown of brown holland was simplicity itself. She
+sat carelessly with her arm round the neck of an immense mastiff who had
+followed her in.
+
+"I've cut everything, Froggy," she declared, "including the terrible
+American cousin. In fact, it was almost more on his account than any
+other that I did it. For I can't and won't marry him, not even for the
+sake of the dear old Abbey! Are you very shocked, I wonder?"
+
+Froggy the housekeeper--so named by young Lord Mortimer in his schoolboy
+days--looked up from her work and across at Priscilla, her brown,
+prominent eyes, to which she owed her _sobriquet_, shining lovingly
+behind her spectacles. Her real name was Mrs. Burrowes, but Priscilla
+could not remember a time when she had ever called her anything but
+Froggy. The old familiar name had become doubly dear to both of them now
+that Mortimer was dead.
+
+"I should be very shocked, indeed, darling, if it were otherwise," was
+Froggy's answer.
+
+And Priscilla breathed a long sigh of contentment. She knew that there
+was no need to explain herself to this, her oldest friend.
+
+She laid her cheek comfortably against the great dog's ear.
+
+"No, Romeo," she murmured. "Your missis isn't going to be thrown at any
+man's head if she knows it. But it's a difficult world, old boy; almost
+an impossible world, I sometimes think. Froggy, I know you can be
+sentimental when you try. What should you do if you fell in love with a
+total stranger without ever knowing his name? Should you have the
+fidelity to live in single blessedness all your life for the sake of
+your hero?"
+
+Froggy looked a little startled at the question, lightly as it was put.
+She felt that it was scarcely a problem that could be settled offhand.
+And yet something in Priscilla's manner seemed to indicate that she
+wanted a prompt reply.
+
+"It is a little difficult to say, dear," she said, after brief
+reflection. "I can understand that one might be strongly attracted
+towards a stranger, but I should think it scarcely possible that one
+could go so far as to fall in love."
+
+Priscilla uttered a faint, rueful laugh.
+
+"Perhaps you couldn't, Froggy," she admitted. "But you know there is
+such a thing as loving at first sight. Some people go so far as to say
+that all true love begins that way."
+
+She rose quietly and went to her friend's side.
+
+"Oh, Froggy, it's very difficult to be true to your inner self when you
+stand quite alone," she said, "and every one else is thinking what a
+fool you are!" The words had an unwonted ring of passion in them, and,
+having uttered them, she knelt down by Froggy's side, and hid her face
+against the ample shoulder. "And I sometimes think I'm a fool myself,"
+she ended, in muffled accents.
+
+Froggy's arms closed instantly and protectingly around her.
+
+"My darling, who is it, then?" whispered her motherly voice.
+
+Priscilla did not at once reply. It was a difficult confidence to make.
+At last, haltingly, words came:
+
+"It was years ago--that summer we went to New York, Dad and I. He was
+from the South, so I heard afterwards. He stayed at the same hotel with
+us, one of those quiet, unobtrusive, big men--not big physically,
+but--you understand. I might not have noticed him--I don't know--but one
+day a man in the street threw down a flaming match just as I was coming
+out of the hotel. I had on a muslin dress, and it caught fire. Of
+course, it blazed in a moment, and I was terrified. Dad wasn't there.
+But the man was in the balcony just overhead, and he swung himself down,
+I never saw how, and caught me in his arms. He had nothing to put it out
+with. He simply threw me down and flung himself on the top, beating out
+the flames in all directions with his hands. I was dreadfully upset, of
+course, but I wasn't much hurt. He was--horribly. One of his hands was
+all charred.
+
+"He carried me back into the hotel and told me not to be frightened. And
+he stayed with me till I felt better, because somehow I wanted him to.
+He was so strong, Froggy, and so kind. He had a voice like a woman's.
+I've thought since that he must have thought me very foolish and
+uncontrolled. But he seemed to understand just how I felt. And--do you
+know--I never saw him again! He went right away that very afternoon, and
+we never found out who he was. And I never thanked him even for saving
+my life. I don't think he wanted to be thanked.
+
+"But I have never forgotten him. He was the sort of man you never could
+forget. I've never seen any one in the least like him. He was somehow so
+much greater than all the other men I know. Am I a fool, Froggy? I
+suppose I am. They say every woman will meet her mate if she waits long
+enough, but it can't be true. I suppose I might as well marry the Yankee
+heir, only I can't--I can't!"
+
+The low voice ceased, and there fell a silence. Froggy's arms were
+folded very closely about the kneeling girl, but she had no words of
+comfort or counsel to offer. She was, in fact, out of her depth, though
+not for worlds would she have had Priscilla know it.
+
+"You must just follow your own heart, dearest," she said at last. "And I
+think you will find happiness some day. God grant it!"
+
+Priscilla lifted her head and kissed her. She knew quite well that she
+had led whither Froggy could not follow. But the knowledge did not hurt
+her.
+
+She called Romeo, and went out into the summer sunshine, with a smile
+half tender and half humorous at the corners of her mouth. Poor Froggy!
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE PICNIC IN THE GLEN
+
+
+"I think we will go for a picnic, Romeo," said Priscilla.
+
+It was a Saturday afternoon, warm and slumbrous, and Saturday was the
+day on which Raffold Abbey was open to the public when the family were
+away. Priscilla's presence was, as it were, unofficial, but though she
+was quite content to have it so, she was determined to escape from sight
+and hearing of the hot and dusty crowd that thronged the place on a fine
+day from three o'clock till six.
+
+Half a mile or more from the Abbey, a brown stream ran gurgling through
+a miniature glen, to join the river below the park gates. This stream
+had been Priscilla's great delight for longer than she could remember.
+As children, she and her brother Mortimer had spent hours upon its mossy
+banks, and since those days she had dreamed many dreams, aye, and shed
+many tears, within sound of its rushing waters. She loved the place. It
+was her haven of solitude. No one ever disturbed her there.
+
+The walk across the park made them both hot, and it was a relief to sit
+down on her favourite tree-root above the stream and yield herself to
+the luxury of summer idleness. A robin was chirping far overhead, and
+from the grass at her feet there came the whir of a grasshopper.
+Otherwise, save for the music of the stream, all was still. An
+exquisite, filmy drowsiness crept over her, and she slept.
+
+A deep growl from her bodyguard roused her nearly an hour later, and she
+awoke with a start.
+
+Romeo was sitting very upright, watching something on the farther side
+of the stream. He growled again as Priscilla sat up.
+
+She looked across in the same direction, and laid a hasty hand upon his
+collar.
+
+What she saw surprised her considerably. A man was lying face downwards
+on the brink of the stream, fishing about in the water, with one arm
+bared to the shoulder. He must have heard Romeo's warning growl, but he
+paid not the slightest attention to it. Priscilla watched him with keen
+interest. She could not see his face.
+
+Suddenly he clutched at something in the clear water, and immediately
+straightened himself, withdrawing his arm. Then, quite calmly, he looked
+across at her, and spoke in a peculiar, soft drawl like a woman's.
+
+"You'll forgive me for disturbing you, I know," he said, "when I tell
+you that all my worldly goods were at the bottom of this ditch."
+
+He displayed his recovered property as if to verify his words--a brown
+leather pocketbook with a silver clasp. Priscilla gazed from it to its
+owner in startled silence. Her heart was beating almost to suffocation.
+She knew this man.
+
+The water babbled on between them, singing a little tinkling song all
+its own. But the girl neither saw nor heard aught of her surroundings.
+She was back in the heat and whirl of a crowded New York thoroughfare,
+back in the fierce grip of this man's arms, hearing his quiet voice
+above her head, bidding her not to be frightened.
+
+Gradually the vision passed. The wild tumult at her heart died down. She
+became aware that he was waiting for her to speak, and she did so as one
+in a dream.
+
+"I am glad you got it back," she said.
+
+His brown, clean-shaven face smiled at her, but there was no hint of
+recognition in his eyes. He had totally forgotten her, of course, as she
+had always told herself he would. Did not men always forget? And
+yet--and yet--was he not still her hero--the man for whose sake all
+other men were less than naught to her?
+
+Again Romeo growled deeply, and she tightened her hold upon him. The
+stranger, however, appeared quite unimpressed. He stood up and
+contemplated the stream that divided them with a measuring eye.
+
+"Have I your permission to come across?" he asked her finally, in his
+soft Southern drawl.
+
+She laughed a little nervously. He was not without audacity,
+notwithstanding his quiet manner.
+
+"You can cross if you like," she said. "But it's all private property."
+
+He paused, looking at her intently.
+
+"It belongs to Earl Raffold, I have been told?"
+
+She bent her head, and her answer leapt out with an ease that astonished
+her. She felt it to be an inspiration.
+
+"It does. But the family are in town for the season. I am staying with
+the housekeeper. She is allowed to have her friends when the family are
+away."
+
+It was rather breathlessly spoken, but he did not seem to notice.
+
+"I see," he said. "Then one more or less can't make much difference."
+
+With the words he took a single stride forward and bounded into the air.
+He landed lightly almost at her feet, and Romeo sprang up with an
+outraged snarl. It choked in his throat almost instantly, however, for
+the stranger laid a restraining hand upon him, and spoke with soothing
+self-assurance.
+
+"It's an evil brute that kills a friend, eh, old fellow? You couldn't do
+it if you tried."
+
+Romeo's countenance changed magically. He turned his hostility into an
+ardent welcome, and the girl at his side laughed again rather
+tremulously.
+
+"It's a good thing you weren't afraid. I couldn't have held him."
+
+"I saw that," said the Southerner, speaking softly, his face on a level
+with the great head he was caressing. "But I knew it would be all right.
+You see, I--kind of like dogs."
+
+He turned to her after a moment, a faintly quizzical expression about
+his eyes.
+
+"I won't intrude upon you," he said. "I can go and trespass elsewhere,
+you know."
+
+Priscilla was not as a rule reckless. A long training in her
+stepmother's school had made her cautious and far-seeing in all things
+social. She knew exactly the risk that lay in unconventionality. But,
+then, had she not fled from town to lead a free life? Why should she
+submit to the old, galling chain here in this golden world where its
+restraint was not known? Her whole being rose up in revolt at the bare
+idea, and suddenly, passionately, she decided to break free. Even the
+flowers had their day of riotous, splendid life. She would have hers,
+wherever its enjoyment might lead her, whatever it might cost!
+
+And so she answered him with a lack of reserve at which her London
+friends would have marvelled.
+
+"You don't intrude at all. If you have come to see the Abbey, I should
+advise you to wait till after six o'clock."
+
+"When it will be closed to the public?" he questioned, still looking
+quizzical.
+
+She looked up at him, for the first time deliberately meeting his eyes.
+Yes it was plain that he did not know her; but on the whole she was
+glad, it made things easier. She had been so foolish and hysterical upon
+that far-off day when he had saved her life.
+
+"I will take you over it myself, if you care to accept my guidance," she
+said, "after the crowd have gone."
+
+He glanced at his watch.
+
+"And you are prepared to tolerate my society till six?" he said. "That
+is very generous of you."
+
+She smiled, with a touch of wistfulness.
+
+"Perhaps I don't find my own very inspiring."
+
+He raised his eyebrows, but made no comment.
+
+"Perhaps I had better tell you my name," he said, after a pause. "I am
+in a fashion connected with this place--a sort of friend of the family,
+if it isn't presumption to put it that way. My name is Julian Carfax,
+and Ralph Cochrane, the next-of-kin, is a pal of mine, a very great pal.
+He was coming over to England. Perhaps you heard. But he's a very shy
+fellow, and almost at the last moment he decided not to face it at
+present. I was coming over, so I undertook to explain. I spoke to Lady
+Raffold in town over the telephone, and told her. She seemed to be
+rather affronted, for some reason. Possibly it was my fault. I'm not
+much of a diplomatist, anyway."
+
+He seated himself on a mossy stone below her with this reflection, and
+began to cast pebbles into the brown water.
+
+Priscilla watched him gravely. What he had told her interested her
+considerably, but she had no intention of giving herself away by
+betraying it.
+
+There was a decided pause before she made up her mind how to pursue the
+subject.
+
+"I had no idea that an American could be shy," she said then.
+
+Carfax turned with his pleasant smile.
+
+"No? We're a pushing race, I suppose. But I think Cochrane had some
+excuse for his timidity this time."
+
+"Yes?" said Priscilla.
+
+He began to laugh quietly.
+
+"You see, it turned out that he was expected to marry the old maid of
+the family--Lady Priscilla. Naturally he kicked at that."
+
+Priscilla bent sharply over Romeo, and began to examine one of his huge
+paws. Her face was a vivid scarlet.
+
+"It wasn't surprising, was it?" said Carfax, tossing another pebble into
+the stream. "It was more than enough, in my opinion, to make any fellow
+feel shy."
+
+Priscilla did not answer. The colour was slow to fade from her face.
+
+"I wonder if you have ever seen the lady?" Carfax pursued. "She was out
+of town when I was there."
+
+"Yes; I have seen her."
+
+Priscilla spoke with her head bent.
+
+"You have? What is she like?"
+
+He glanced round with an expression of amused interest. Priscilla looked
+up deliberately.
+
+"She is quite old and ugly. But I don't think Mr. Ralph Cochrane need be
+afraid. She doesn't like men. I am rather sorry for her myself."
+
+"Sorry for her? Why?"
+
+Carfax became serious.
+
+"I think she is rather lonely," the girl said, in a low voice.
+
+"You know her well?"
+
+"Can any one say that they really know any one? No. But I think that she
+feels very deeply, and that her life has always been more or less of a
+failure. At least, that is the sort of feeling I have about her."
+
+Again, but more gradually, the colour rose in her face. She took up her
+basket, and began to unpack it.
+
+Carfax turned fully round.
+
+"You go in for character-study," he said.
+
+"A little," she owned. "I can't help it. Now let me give you some tea. I
+have enough for two."
+
+"I shall be delighted," he said courteously. "Let me help you to
+unpack."
+
+Priscilla could never recall afterwards how they spent the golden hours
+till six o'clock. She was as one in a dream, to which she clung closely,
+passionately, fearing to awake. For in her dream she was standing on the
+threshold of her paradise, waiting for the opening of the gates.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+ON THE THRESHOLD
+
+
+Raffold Abbey was huge and rambling, girt with many memories. They spent
+nearly two hours wandering through the house and the old, crumbling
+chapel.
+
+"There is a crypt below," Priscilla said, "but we can't go down without
+a lantern. Another day, if you cared----"
+
+"Of course I should, above all things," declared Carfax. "I was just
+going to ask when I might come again."
+
+Their intimacy had progressed wonderfully during those hours of
+companionship. The total absence of conventionality had destroyed all
+strangeness between them. They were as children on a holiday, enjoying
+the present to the full, and wholly careless of the future.
+
+Not till Carfax had at length taken his leave did Priscilla ask herself
+what had brought him there. Merely to view his friend's inheritance
+seemed a paltry reason. Perhaps he was a journalist, or a writer of
+guide-books. But she soon dismissed the matter, to ask herself a more
+personal question. Was it possible that he knew her? Had he found out
+her name after the New York episode, and come at last to seek her? She
+could not honestly believe this, though her heart leapt at the thought.
+That affair had taken place four long years before. Of course, he had
+forgotten it. It could have made no more than a passing impression upon
+him. Had it been otherwise, would he not have claimed her at once as an
+old acquaintance?
+
+Yes, it was plain that her first conviction must be correct. He did not
+know her. The whole incident had passed completely from his memory,
+crowded out, no doubt, and that speedily, by more absorbing interests.
+She had flashed across his life, attaining to no more importance than a
+bird upon the wing. He had saved her life at a frightful risk, and then
+forgotten her very existence. She had always realised it must be so,
+but, strangely, she had never resented it. In spite of it, with a
+woman's queer, inexplicable faithfulness, she yet loved her hero, yet
+cherished closely, fondly, the memory that she doubted not had faded
+utterly from his mind.
+
+She went to the village church with Froggy on the following day, though
+fully alive to the risk she ran of being pointed out to the ignorant as
+Lady Priscilla from the Abbey. She knew by some deep-hidden instinct
+that he would be there, and she was not disappointed. He came in late,
+and stood quite still just inside the little building, searching it up
+and down with keen, quiet eyes that never faltered in their progress
+till they lighted upon her. She fancied there was a faintly humorous
+expression about his mouth. His look did not dwell upon her. He stepped
+aside to a vacant chair close to the door, and Priscilla, in her great,
+square pew near the pulpit, saw him no more. When she left the church at
+the end of the service he had already disappeared.
+
+Froggy went out to tea that afternoon with much solicitous regret, which
+Priscilla treated in a spirit of levity. She packed her tea-basket again
+as soon as she was alone, selecting her provisions with care. And soon
+after three, accompanied by Romeo, she started for the glen, not
+sauntering idly, but stepping briskly through the golden sunshine, as
+one with a purpose. She felt as if she were going to a trysting-place,
+though no word of a tryst had passed between them.
+
+He was there before her, bareheaded and alert, quite obviously awaiting
+her. He did not express his pleasure in words as he took her hand in
+his. Only there was an indescribable look in his brown eyes that made
+her very glad that she had come. He had brought an enormous basket of
+strawberries, which he presented with that drawling ease of manner which
+she had come to regard as peculiarly his own, and they settled down to
+the afternoon's enjoyment in a harmony as complete as the summer peace
+about them.
+
+No spoken confidences passed between them. Their intimacy was such as to
+make words seem superfluous. Both seemed to feel that the present was
+all-sufficing.
+
+Only once did Priscilla challenge Carfax's memory. The impulse was
+irresistible at the moment, though she regretted it later. He was
+holding out to her the biggest strawberry he could find. It lay on a
+leaf on the palm of his hand, and as she took it she suddenly saw a
+long, terrible scar extending upwards from his wrist till his sleeve hid
+it from view.
+
+"Why," she exclaimed, with a start; then, seeing his questioning look,
+"surely that's a burn?"
+
+"It is," said Carfax.
+
+He turned his hand over to hide it. His manner seemed to indicate that
+he did not wish to pursue the subject. But Priscilla, suddenly reckless,
+ignored the hint.
+
+"But how did you do it?" she asked.
+
+Carfax hesitated for a second, then:
+
+"It was years ago," he said, rather unwillingly. "A lady's dress caught
+fire. It fell to me to put it out."
+
+"How brave!" murmured Priscilla. Her eyes were shining. Had he looked up
+then he must have read her secret.
+
+But he did not look up. For the first time he seemed to be labouring
+under some spell of embarrassment.
+
+"It wasn't brave at all," he said, after a moment. "I could have done no
+less."
+
+There was almost a vexed note in his voice. Yet she persisted.
+
+"What was she like? Wasn't she very grateful?"
+
+"I don't know at all. I don't suppose she enjoyed the situation any more
+than I did."
+
+He plucked a tuft of moss and tossed it from him, as if therewith
+dismissing the subject. And Priscilla felt a little hurt, though not for
+worlds would she have suffered him to see it.
+
+It fell to him to break the silence a few seconds later, and he did so
+without a hint of difficulty.
+
+"When am I going to see the crypt?"
+
+Priscilla laughed a little.
+
+"Are you writing a book about the place?"
+
+He laughed back at her quite openly.
+
+"Not at present. When I do, it will be a romance, with you for heroine."
+
+"Oh, no; not me!" she protested. "I am a mere nobody. Lady Priscilla
+ought to be your heroine."
+
+He raised his eyebrows. She had begun to associate that look of his with
+protest rather than surprise.
+
+"I have yet to be introduced to Lady Priscilla," he said. "And as she
+doesn't like men, I almost think I shall forego the pleasure and keep
+out of her way."
+
+"Perhaps I have given you a wrong impression about her," Priscilla said,
+speaking with a slight effort. "It is only the idle, foppish men about
+town she has no use for."
+
+"She is fastidious, apparently," he returned, lying down abruptly at her
+feet.
+
+"Don't you like women to be fastidious?" Priscilla demanded boldly.
+
+He lay quite motionless for several seconds, then turned in a leisurely
+fashion upon his side to survey her.
+
+"You are fastidious?" he asked.
+
+"Of course I am!" Priscilla's words came rather breathlessly. "Don't you
+think me so?"
+
+Again he was silent for seconds. Then, in a baffling drawl, his answer
+came:
+
+"If you will allow me to say so, I think you are just the sweetest woman
+I ever met."
+
+Priscilla met his eyes for a single instant, and looked away. She was
+burning and throbbing from head to foot. She could find naught to say in
+answer; no word wherewith to turn his deliberate sentence into a jest.
+Perhaps in her secret heart she did not desire to do so, for a voice
+within her, a voice long stifled, cried out that she had met her mate.
+And, since surrender was inevitable, why should she seek to delay it?
+
+But Carfax said no more. Possibly he thought he had said too much. At
+least, after a long, quiet pause, he looked away from her; and the spell
+that bound her passed.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THE OPENING GATES
+
+
+That evening Priscilla found a letter from her stepmother awaiting
+her--a briefly worded, urgent summons.
+
+"Your cousin has not arrived, after all," it said. "Your father and I
+are greatly disappointed. Would it not be as well for you to return to
+town? You can scarcely, I fear, afford to waste your time in this
+fashion. Young Lord Harfield was asking for you most solicitously only
+yesterday. Such a charming man, I have always thought!"
+
+"That--chicken!" said Priscilla, and tossed her letter aside.
+
+Later, she went up to the top of the Abbey, and out on to a part of the
+roof that had been battlemented, to dream her dream again under the
+stars and to view her paradise yet more closely from before the opening
+gates.
+
+It was very late when she returned lightfooted to Froggy's sitting-room,
+and, kneeling by her friend's side, interposed her dark head between the
+kind, bulging eyes and the open Bible that lay upon the table.
+
+"Froggy," she whispered softly, "I'm so happy, dear--so happy!"
+
+And so kneeling, she told Froggy in short, halting sentences of the
+sudden splendour that had glorified her life.
+
+Froggy was greatly astonished, and even startled. She was also anxious,
+and showed it. But Priscilla hastened to smooth this away.
+
+"Yes, I know it's sudden. But sometimes, you know, love is like that.
+Don't be anxious, Froggy. I am much more cautious--but what a ridiculous
+word!--than you think. He doesn't know who I am yet. I pretended to him
+that I was a relation of yours. And he isn't to know at present. You
+will keep that in mind, won't you? And in a day or two I shall bring him
+in here to tea, and you will be able to judge of him for yourself. No,
+dear, no; of course he hasn't spoken. It is much too soon. You forget
+that though I have known him so long, he has only known me for two days.
+Oh, Froggy, isn't it wonderful to think of--that he should have come at
+last like this? It is almost as if--as if my love had drawn him."
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+WITHIN HER PARADISE
+
+
+Priscilla's reply to her stepmother's summons, written several days
+later, was a highly unsatisfactory epistle indeed, in the opinion of its
+recipient. She found it quite impossible to tear herself away from the
+country while the fine weather lasted, she wrote. She was enjoying
+herself immensely, and did not feel that she could ever endure the whole
+of a London season in one dose again.
+
+It was not a well-thought-out letter, being written in a haste that made
+itself obvious between the lines. Carfax had hired a motor-car, and was
+waiting for her. They went miles that day, and when they stopped at last
+they were in a country that she scarcely knew--a country of barren downs
+and great sunlit spaces, lonely, immense.
+
+"This is the place," said Carfax quietly, as he helped her to alight.
+
+Priscilla walked a few paces and stood still. She knew exactly why he
+had chosen it. Her heart was beating wildly. It seemed to dominate all
+her other faculties. She felt it to be almost more than she could bear.
+
+Those moments of unacknowledged waiting were terrible to her. She knew
+she had taken an irrevocable step, and her free instinct clamoured
+loudly against it. It amounted almost to a panic within her.
+
+There came a quiet step on the turf behind her. She did not turn, but
+the suspense became suddenly unendurable. With a convulsive movement,
+she made as if she would go on. At the same instant an arm encircled
+her, checked her, held her closely.
+
+"So, sweetheart!" said Julian Carfax, his voice soothing, womanly, but
+possessing withal a note of vitality, of purpose, that she had never
+heard in it before.
+
+She suffered his hold with a faint but desperate cry.
+
+"You don't know me," she said, with a gasping effort. "You don't--" The
+words failed. He was pressing her to him ever more closely, and she felt
+his fingers gently fumbling at her veil. With a sudden passionate
+movement she put up both hands, and threw it back.
+
+"There!" she said, with a sound, half laugh, half sob, and turned
+herself wholly to him.
+
+The next instant, as his lips pressed hers, all the anguish of doubt
+that had come upon her was gone like an evil spirit from her soul. She
+knew only that they stood alone together in a vast space that was filled
+to the brim with the noonday sunshine. All her heart was flooded with
+rejoicing. The gates had opened wide for her, and she had entered in.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+BACK TO EARTH
+
+
+Priscilla never quite realised afterwards how it was that the whole of
+that long summer day slipped by and her confession remained still
+unspoken. She did make one or two attempts to lead round to the subject,
+but each seemed to be foredoomed to failure, and at last she abandoned
+the idea--for that day, at least. It seemed, after all, but a paltry
+thing in face of her great happiness.
+
+They sped homeward at length in the light of a cloudless sunset,
+smoothly and swiftly as if they swooped through air.
+
+"I will take you to the edge of the park," Carfax said; and when they
+reached it he took her in his arms, holding her fast, as if he could not
+bear to let her go.
+
+They parted at last almost in silence, but with the tacit understanding
+that they would meet in the glen on the following day.
+
+Priscilla walked home through the lengthening shadows with a sense of
+wonderment and unreality at her heart. He had asked for no pledge, yet
+she knew that the bond between them was such as might stretch to the
+world's end and never break. They belonged to each other irrevocably
+now, whatever might intervene.
+
+She reached the Abbey, walking as in a maze of happiness, with no
+thought for material things.
+
+Romeo came to greet her with effusion, and an air of having something to
+tell her. She fondled him, and went on with him into the house. They
+entered by a conservatory, and so through the shrouded drawing-room into
+the great hall.
+
+The girl's eyes were dazzled by the sudden gloom she found there. She
+expected to meet no one, and so it was with a violent start that she saw
+a man's figure detach itself from the shadows and come towards her.
+
+"Who is it?" she asked sharply; and then in astonishment: "Why, Dad!"
+
+Her father's voice answered her, but not with the gruff kindliness to
+which she was accustomed. It came to her grim and stern, and she knew
+instinctively that he hated the errand that had brought him.
+
+"I have come down to fetch you," he said. "I do not approve of your
+being here alone. It is unusual and quite unnecessary. You are quite
+well?"
+
+"Yes, I am well," Priscilla said. "But why should you object to my being
+here?"
+
+She stood still, facing him. She knew who had inspired this
+interference, and from the bottom of her soul she resented it. Her
+father did not answer. Thinking it over calmly later, she knew that he
+was ashamed.
+
+"Be ready to start from here in half an hour," he said. "We shall catch
+the nine-thirty."
+
+Priscilla made no further protest. Her father had never addressed that
+tone to her before, and it cut her to the heart.
+
+"Very well," she said; and turned to go.
+
+Her deep voice held no anger, and only Romeo, pressed close against her,
+knew that the hand that had just caressed him was clenched and
+quivering.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+HER SIMPLE DUTY
+
+
+Priscilla left a hastily scribbled note for Carfax in Froggy's keeping.
+In it she explained that she was obliged to go to town, but that she
+would meet him there any day before noon at any place that he would
+appoint. Froggy was to be the medium of his communication also.
+
+She made no mention of Carfax to her father. He had hurt her far too
+deeply for any confidence to be possible. Moreover, it seemed to her
+that she had no right to speak until Carfax himself gave her leave.
+
+She did not see her stepmother till the following day. The greeting
+between them was of the coolest, though Lady Raffold, being triumphant,
+sought to infuse a little sentiment into hers.
+
+"I am really worn out, Priscilla," she said. "It is my turn now to have
+a little rest. I am going to leave all the hard work to you. It will be
+such a relief."
+
+Three days later, however, she relinquished this attitude. Priscilla was
+summoned to her room, where she was breakfasting, and found her in great
+excitement.
+
+"My dear child, he has arrived. He has actually arrived, and is staying
+at the Ritz. He must come and dine with us to-morrow night. It will be
+quite an informal affair--only thirty--so it can easily be managed. He
+must take you in, Priscilla; and, oh, my dear, do remember that it is
+the great opportunity of your life, and it mustn't be thrown away,
+whatever happens! Your father has set his heart upon it."
+
+"Are you talking about Mr. Cochrane?" asked Priscilla.
+
+"To be sure. Who else? Now don't put on that far-away look, pray! You
+know what is, after all, your simple duty, and I trust you mean to do
+it. You can't be going to disappoint your father in this matter. And you
+really must marry soon Priscilla. It is getting serious. In fact, it
+worries me perpetually. By the way, here is a letter for you from
+Raffold. It must have got among mine by mistake. Mrs. Burrowes's
+handwriting, I imagine."
+
+She was right. It was directed by Froggy, but Priscilla paled suddenly
+as she took it, realising that it contained an answer to her own urgent
+note.
+
+Alone in her own room she opened it. The message was even briefer than
+hers had been: "Sweetheart,--At 11 A.M., on Thursday, under the
+dome of St. Paul's Cathedral.--I am thine, J. C."
+
+Priscilla stood for long seconds with the note in her hand. It had
+reached her too late. The appointment had been for the day before. She
+turned to the envelope, and saw that it must have been lying among her
+stepmother's correspondence for two days. Doubtless he had waited for
+her at the trysting-place, and waited in vain.
+
+Only one thing remained to be done, and that was to telegraph to Froggy
+for Carfax's address. But Froggy's answer, when it came, was only
+another disappointment:
+
+"Address not known. Did you not receive letter I forwarded?"
+
+Reluctantly Priscilla realised that there was nothing for it but
+patience. Carfax would almost certainly write again through Froggy.
+
+That he had not her address she knew, for Froggy was under a solemn vow
+to reveal nothing, but she would not believe that he would regard her
+failure to keep tryst as a deliberate effort to snub him, though the
+fear that he might do so haunted and grew upon her all through the day.
+
+She went to a theatre that night, and later to a dance, but neither
+entertainment served to lift the deadening weight from her spirits. She
+was miserable, and the four hours she subsequently spent in bed brought
+her no relief.
+
+She rose at last in sheer desperation, and went for an early ride in the
+Park. She met a few acquaintances, but she shook them off. She wanted to
+be alone.
+
+When she was returning, however, her youthful admirer, Lord Harfield,
+attached himself to her, refusing to be discouraged.
+
+"I met your cousin at the Club yesterday," he told her.
+
+"What is he like?" Priscilla asked, without much interest.
+
+"Oh, haven't you seen him yet? A very queer fish, with a twang you could
+cut with a knife. Don't think you'll like him," said Lord Harfield, who
+was jealous of every man who so much as bowed to Priscilla.
+
+Priscilla smiled faintly.
+
+"I don't think so, either," she said. "You are coming to dine with us
+to-night, aren't you? He will be there too."
+
+"Will he? I say, what a bore for you! Yes, I'm coming. I'll do my best
+to help you," the boy assured her eagerly.
+
+And again Priscilla smiled. She was quite sure that she would be bored,
+whatever happened, though she was too kind-hearted to say so.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+THE COMING OF HER HERO
+
+
+"I wonder why Priscilla has put on that severely plain attire? It makes
+her look almost ugly," sighed Lady Raffold. "And how dreadfully pale she
+is to-night! Really, I have never seen her look more unattractive."
+
+She turned with her most dazzling smile to receive the American
+Ambassador, and no one could have guessed that under her smile was real
+anger, because her stepdaughter was gracing the occasion in a robe of
+sombre black.
+
+All the guests had arrived with the exception of Ralph Cochrane, the
+heir-apparent, as Priscilla styled him, and Lady Raffold chatted with
+one eye on the door. It was too bad of the young man to be late.
+
+She was just giving him up in despair, and preparing to proceed to the
+dining-room without him, when his name was announced. Lord Raffold went
+forward to meet him. Priscilla, sitting on a lounge with Lord Harfield's
+mother, caught the sound of a soft, leisurely voice apologising; and
+something tightened suddenly at her heart, and held its beating. It was
+a voice she knew.
+
+As through a mist, she looked across the great room, with its many
+lights, its buzz of careless voices. And suddenly, it seemed to her, she
+was back in the little village church at Raffold, furtively watching a
+stranger who stood in the entrance, and searched with level scrutiny
+quite deliberately and frankly till he found her.
+
+Their eyes met, and her heart thrilled responsively as an instrument
+thrills to the hand of a skilled player.
+
+Almost involuntarily she rose. There was some mistake. She knew there
+must be some mistake. She felt that in some fashion it rested with her
+to explain and to justify his presence there.
+
+But in that instant his eyes left her, and the magnetism that compelled
+her died swiftly down. She saw him shake hands with Lady Raffold, and
+bow to the Ambassador.
+
+Then came her stepmother's quick, beckoning glance, and she moved
+forward in response to it. She was quivering from head to foot,
+bewildered, in some subtle fashion afraid.
+
+"My dear, your cousin. He will take you in. Ralph, this is Priscilla."
+
+It was sublimely informal. Lady Raffold had rehearsed that introduction
+several times. It was half the battle that the young man should feel
+himself one of the family from the outset.
+
+Priscilla grabbed at her self-control, and managed to bow. But the next
+instant his hand, strong, warm, reassuring, grasped hers.
+
+"Curious, isn't it?" the quiet voice asked. "We can't be strangers, you
+and I."
+
+The grip of his fingers was close and intimate. It was as if he appealed
+for her support.
+
+With an effort she forced herself to respond:
+
+"Of course not. It must be quite five years since our first meeting."
+
+He looked at her oddly, quizzically, as he offered his arm.
+
+"Why, yes," he drawled, as they began to move towards the door. "Should
+auld acquaintance be forgot? It is exactly five years ago to-day."
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE STORY OF A FRAUD
+
+
+"Funny, wasn't it, sweetheart?"
+
+The soft voice reached her through a buzz of other louder voices.
+Priscilla moved slightly, but she did not turn her head.
+
+"You will have to explain," she said. "I don't understand anything yet."
+
+"Nor I," came the quiet retort. "It's the woman's privilege to explain
+first, isn't it?"
+
+Against her will, the blood rose in her face. She threw him a quick
+glance.
+
+"I can't possibly explain anything here," she said.
+
+He met her look with steady eyes.
+
+"Let me tell you the story of a fraud," he said; and proceeded without
+further preliminary. "There was once a man--a second son, without
+prospects and without fame--who had the good fortune to do a service to
+a woman. He went away immediately afterwards lest he should make a fool
+of himself, for she was miles above his head, anyway. But he never
+forgot her. The mischief was done, so far as he was concerned."
+
+He broke off, and raised his champagne to his lips as if he drank to a
+memory.
+
+Priscilla was listening, but her eyes were downcast. She wore the old,
+absent look that her stepmother always deprecated. The soft drawl at her
+side continued, every syllable distinct and measured.
+
+"Years passed, and things changed. The man had belonged to a cadet
+branch of an aristocratic British family. But one heir after another
+died, till only he was left to inherit. The woman belonged to the older
+branch of the family, but, being a woman, she was passed over. A time
+came when he was invited by the head of the house to go and see his
+inheritance. He would have gone at once and gladly, but for a hint at
+the end of the letter to the effect that, if he would do his part, what
+the French shamelessly call a _mariage de convenance_ might be arranged
+between his cousin and himself--an arrangement advantageous to them both
+from a certain point of view. He didn't set up for a paragon of
+morality. Perhaps even, had things been a little different, he might
+have been willing. As it was, he didn't like the notion, and he jibbed."
+He paused. "But for all that," he said, his voice yet quieter and more
+deliberate, "he wanted the woman, if he could make her care for him.
+That was his difficulty. He had a feeling all along that the thing must
+be an even greater offence to her than it was to him. He worried it all
+through, and at last he worked out a scheme for them both. He called
+himself by an old school _alias_, and came to her as a stranger----
+
+"You're not eating anything, sweetheart. Wouldn't it be as well, just
+for decency's sake? There's a comic ending to this story, so you mustn't
+be sad. Who's that boy scowling at me on the other side of the table?
+What's the matter with the child?"
+
+"Never mind," murmured Priscilla hastily. "He doesn't mean anything.
+Please go on."
+
+He began to laugh at her with gentle ridicule.
+
+"Impatient for the third act? Well, the scheme worked all right. But
+it so chanced that the woman decided to be subtle, too. She knew him
+for an old friend the instant she saw him. But he pretended to have
+forgotten that old affair in New York. He didn't want her to feel in
+any way under an obligation. So he played the humble stranger, and
+she--sweetheart--she played the simple, country maiden, and she did it
+to perfection. I think, you know, that she was a little afraid her name
+and title would frighten him away."
+
+"And so he humoured her?" said Priscilla, a slight quiver in her deep
+voice.
+
+"They humoured each other, sweetheart. That was where it began to be
+funny. Now I am going to get you to tell me the rest of the story."
+
+She turned towards him again, her face very pale.
+
+"Yes; it's very funny, no doubt--funny for the man, I mean; for the
+woman, I am not so sure. How does she know that he really cared for her
+from the beginning; that he was always quite honest in his motive? How
+can she possibly know this?"
+
+Again for a moment their eyes met. There was no hint of dismay in the
+man's brown face.
+
+"She does know it, sweetheart," he answered, with confidence. "I can't
+tell you how. Probably she couldn't, either. He was going to explain
+everything, you know, under the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. But for
+some reason it didn't come off. He spent three solid hours waiting for
+her, but she didn't come. She had found him out, perhaps? And was
+angry?"
+
+"Perhaps," said Priscilla, her voice very low.
+
+Again he raised his glass to his lips.
+
+"We will have the end of the story presently," he said; and deliberately
+turned to his left-hand neighbour.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+THE END OF THE STORY
+
+
+A musical _soirée_ was to follow that interminable dinner, and for a
+time Priscilla was occupied in helping Lady Raffold to receive the
+after-dinner guests. She longed to escape before the contingent from the
+dining-room arrived upstairs, but she soon realised the impossibility of
+this. Her stepmother seemed to want her at every turn, and when at
+length she found herself free, young Lord Harfield appeared at her
+elbow.
+
+It was intolerable. She turned upon him without pity.
+
+"Oh, please," she said, "I've dropped my fan in the dining-room or on
+the stairs. Would you be so kind----"
+
+He departed, not suspecting her of treachery; and she slipped forthwith
+into a tiny conservatory behind the piano. It was her only refuge. She
+could but hope that no one had seen her retire thither. Her need for
+solitude just then was intense. She felt herself physically incapable of
+facing the crowd in the music-room any longer. The first crashing chords
+of the piano covered her retreat. She shut herself softly in, and sank
+into the only chair the little place contained.
+
+Her mind was a chaos of conflicting emotions. Anger, disappointment, and
+an almost insane exultation fought together for the mastery. She longed
+to be rational, to think the matter out quietly and impartially, and
+decide how to treat it. But her most determined efforts were vain. The
+music disturbed her. She felt as if the chords were hammering upon her
+brain. Yet when it suddenly ceased, the unexpected silence was almost
+harder to bear.
+
+In the buzz of applause that ensued, the door behind her opened, and a
+man entered.
+
+She heard the click of the key in the lock, and turned sharply to
+protest. But the words died on her lips, for there was that in his
+brown, resolute face that silenced her. She became suddenly breathless
+and quivering before him, as she had been that day on the down when he
+had taken her into his arms.
+
+He withdrew the key, and dropped it into her lap.
+
+"Open if you will," he said, in the quiet voice, half tender, half
+humorous, that she had come to know so well. "I am closely followed by
+the infant with the scowl."
+
+Priscilla sat silent in her chair. What could she say to him?
+
+"Well?" he said, after a moment. "The end of the story--is it written
+yet?"
+
+She shook her head dumbly. Curiously, the throbbing anger had left her
+heart at the mere sound of his voice.
+
+He waited for about three seconds, then knelt quietly down beside her.
+
+"Say," he drawled, "I kind of like Raffold Abbey, sweetheart. Wouldn't
+it be nice to spend our honeymoon there? Do you think they would let
+us?" He laid his hand upon both of hers. "Wouldn't it be good?" he said
+softly. "I should think there would be room for two, eh, sweetheart?"
+
+With an effort she sought to withstand him before he wholly dominated
+her.
+
+"And every one will call it a _mariage de convenance_!"
+
+"Let them!" he answered, with suppressed indifference. "I reckon we
+shall have the laugh. But it isn't so unusual, you know. Americans
+always fall in love at first sight."
+
+He was unanswerable. He was sublime. She marvelled that she could have
+ever even attempted to resist him.
+
+With a sudden, tremulous laugh, she caught his hand to her, holding it
+fast.
+
+"Not Americans only!" she said. And swiftly, passionately, she bent and
+pressed her lips to the red, seared scar upon her hero's wrist.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                               The Example
+
+
+
+
+"And the fourth angel poured out his vial upon the sun; and power was
+given unto him to scorch men with fire. And men were scorched with great
+heat, and blasphemed the name of God, which hath power over these
+plagues; and they repented not to give Him glory."
+
+The droning voice quivered and fell silent. Within the hospital tent,
+only the buzz of flies innumerable was audible. Without, there sounded
+near at hand the squeak of a sentry's boots, and in the distance the
+clatter of the camp.
+
+The man who lay dying was in a remote and quite detached sense aware of
+these things, but his fevered imagination had carried him beyond. He
+watched, as it were, the glowing pictures that came and went in his
+furnace of pain. These little details were to him but the distant
+humming of the spinning-wheel of time from which he was drawing ever
+farther and farther away. They did not touch that inner consciousness
+with which he saw his visions.
+
+Now and then he turned his head sharply on the pillow, as an alien might
+turn at the sound of a familiar voice, but always, after listening
+intently, it came back to its old position, and the man's restless eyes
+returned to the crack high up in the tent canvas through which the sun
+shone upon him like a piercing eye.
+
+The occupant of the bed next to him watched him furtively, fascinated
+but uneasy. He was a young soldier of the simple country type, and the
+wild words that came now and again from the fevered lips startled him
+uncomfortably. He wished the dying man would cease his mutterings and
+let him sleep. But every time the prolonged silence seemed to indicate a
+final cessation of the nuisance, the droning voice took up the tale once
+more.
+
+"And men were scorched with great heat--and they repented not--repented
+not."
+
+A soft-stepping native orderly moved to the bedside and paused.
+Instantly the wandering words were hushed.
+
+"Bring me some water, Sammy," the same voice said huskily. "If you can't
+take the sun out of the sky, you can give me a drink."
+
+The native shook his head.
+
+"The doctor will come soon," he said soothingly. "Have patience."
+
+Patience! The word had no meaning for him in that inferno of suffering.
+He moved his head, that searching spot of sunlight dancing in his eyes,
+and cursed deep in his throat the man who kept him waiting.
+
+Barely a minute later the doctor came--a quiet, bronzed man, level-eyed
+and strong. He bent over the stricken figure on the bed, and drew the
+tumbled covering up a little higher. He had just written "mortally
+wounded" of this man on his hospital report, but there was nothing in
+his manner to indicate that he had no hope for him.
+
+"Get another pillow," he said to the native orderly. And to the dying
+man: "That will take the sun out of your eyes. I see it is bothering
+you."
+
+"Curse the sun!" the parched lips gasped. "Can't you give me a drink?"
+
+The eyes of the young soldier in the next bed scanned the doctor's face
+anxiously. He, too, wanted a drink. He thirsted from the depths of his
+soul. But he knew there was no water to be had. The supply had been cut
+off hours before.
+
+"No," the doctor said gravely. "I can't give it you yet. By-and-bye,
+perhaps----"
+
+"By-and-bye!" There was a dreadful sound like laughter in the husky
+voice.
+
+The doctor laid a restraining hand on the man's chest.
+
+"Hush!" he said, in a lower tone. "It's this sort of thing that shows
+what a fellow is made of. All these other poor chaps are children. But
+you, Ford, you are grown up, so to speak. I look to you to help me,--to
+set the example."
+
+"Example! Man alive!" A queer light danced like a mocking spirit in
+Private Ford's eyes, and again he laughed--an exceeding bitter laugh.
+"I've been made an example of all my life," he said. "I've sometimes
+thought it was what I was created for. Ah, thanks!" he added in a
+different tone, as the doctor raised him on the extra pillow. "You're a
+brick, sir! Sit down a minute, will you? I want to talk to you."
+
+The doctor complied, his hand on the wounded man's wrist.
+
+"That's better," Ford said. "Keep it there. And stop me if I rave. It's
+a queer little world, isn't it? I remember you well, but you wouldn't
+know me. You were one of the highfliers, and I was always more or less
+of an earthworm. But you'll remember Rotherby, the captain of the first
+eleven? A fine chap--that. He's dead now, eh?"
+
+"Yes," the doctor said, "Rotherby's dead."
+
+He was looking with an intent scrutiny at the scarred and bandaged face
+on the pillow. He had felt from the first that this man was no ordinary
+ranker. Yet till that moment it had never occurred to him that they
+might have met before.
+
+"I always liked Rotherby," the husky voice went on. "He was a big swell,
+and he didn't think much of small fry. But you--you and he were friends,
+weren't you?"
+
+"For a time," the doctor said. "It didn't last."
+
+There was regret in his voice--the keen regret of a man who has lost a
+thing he valued.
+
+"No; it didn't last," Ford agreed. "I remember when you chucked him. Or
+was it the other way round? I saw a good deal of him in those days. I
+thought him a jolly good fellow, till I found out what a scoundrel he
+was. And I had a soft feeling for him even then. You knew he was a
+scoundrel, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes, I knew."
+
+The doctor spoke reluctantly. The hospital tent, the silent row of
+wounded men, the stifling atmosphere, the flies, all were gone from his
+inner vision. He was looking with grave, compassionate eyes at the
+picture that absorbed the man at his side.
+
+"He was good company, eh?" the restless voice went on. "But he had his
+black moments. I didn't know him so well in the days when you and he
+were friends."
+
+"Nor I," the doctor said. "But--why do you want to talk of him?"
+
+Again he was searching the face at his side with grave intensity. It did
+not seem to him that this man could ever have been of the sort that his
+friend Rotherby would have cared to admit to terms of intimacy.
+Rotherby--notwithstanding his sins--had been fastidious in many ways.
+
+The answer seemed to make the matter more comprehensible.
+
+"I was with him when he died," the man said. "It was in just such an
+inferno as this. We were alone together, looking for gold in the
+Australian desert. We didn't find it, though it was there, mountains of
+it. The water gave out. We tossed for the last drain--and I won. That
+was how Rotherby came to die. He hadn't much to live for, and he was
+going to die, anyhow. A queer chap, he was. He and his wife never lived
+together after the smash came, and he had to leave the country. Perhaps
+you knew?"
+
+"Yes," the doctor said again, "I knew."
+
+Ford moved his head restlessly.
+
+"The thought of her used to worry him in the night," he said. "I've
+known him lie for hours not sleeping, just staring up at the stars, and
+thinking, thinking. I've sometimes thought that the worst torture on
+earth can't equal that. You know, after he was dead, they found her
+miniature on him--a thing in a gold case, with their names engraved
+inside. He used to wear it round his neck like a charm. It was by that
+they identified him--that and his signet-ring, and one or two letters.
+Scamp though I was, I had the grace not to rob the dead. They sent the
+things to his wife. I've often wondered what she did with them."
+
+"I can tell you that," said the doctor quietly. "She keeps them among
+her greatest treasures."
+
+Ford turned sharply on his pillows, and stifled an exclamation of pain.
+
+"You know her still, then?" he said.
+
+"She is my wife," the doctor answered.
+
+A long silence followed his words. The wounded soldier lay with closed
+eyes and drawn brows. He seemed to be unconscious of everything save
+physical pain.
+
+Suddenly he seemed to recover himself, and looked up.
+
+"You," he said slowly, "you are Montagu Durant, the fellow she was
+engaged to before she married Rotherby."
+
+The doctor bent his head.
+
+"Yes," he said. "I am Montagu Durant."
+
+"Rotherby's friend," Ford went on. "The chap who stuck to him through
+thick and thin--to be betrayed in the end. I know all about you, you
+see, though you haven't placed me yet."
+
+"No, I can't place you," Durant said. "I don't think we ever knew each
+other very well. You will have to tell me who you are."
+
+"Later--later," said Ford. "No, you never knew me very well. It was
+always you and Rotherby, you and Rotherby. You never looked at any one
+else, till that row at the 'Varsity when he got kicked out. Yes," with a
+sudden, sharp sigh, "I was a 'Varsity man too. I admired Leonard
+Rotherby in those days. Poor old Leo! He knew how to hit a boundary as
+well as any fellow! You never forgave him, I suppose, for marrying your
+girl?"
+
+There was a pause, and the fevered eyes sought Durant's face. The answer
+came at length very slowly.
+
+"I could have forgiven him," Durant said, "if he had stuck to her and
+made her happy."
+
+"Ah! There came the rub. But did Rotherby ever stick to anything? It was
+a jolly good thing he died--for all concerned. Yet, you know, he cared
+for her to the last. Blackguard as he was, he carried her in his heart
+right up to his death. I tell you I was with him, and I know."
+
+There was strong insistence in the man's words. Durant could feel the
+racing pulse leap and quiver under his hand. He leaned forward a little,
+looking closely into the drawn face.
+
+"I think you have talked enough," he said. "Try to get some rest."
+
+"I haven't raved," said Ford, with confidence. "It has done me good to
+talk. I can't help thinking of Leo Rotherby. My brain runs on him. He
+wanted to see you--horribly--before he died. I believe he'd have asked
+your forgiveness. But you wouldn't have given it to him, I suppose? You
+will never forgive him in your heart?"
+
+Again the answer did not come at once. Durant was frowning a little--the
+frown of a man who tries to fathom his own secret impulses.
+
+"I think," he said at last, "that if I had seen him and he had asked for
+it, I should not have refused my forgiveness."
+
+"No one ever refused Rotherby anything," said the dying man, with a
+curious, half-humorous twist of his mouth under its dark moustache.
+
+"Except yourself," Durant reminded him, almost involuntarily.
+
+Again the wandering, uneasy eyes sought his. "You mean--that drain of
+water," Ford said, with a total lack of shame or remorse. "Yes, it's
+true Rotherby didn't have that. But it didn't make any difference, you
+know. He was going to die. And the living come before the dead, eh,
+doctor?"
+
+Durant did not quite understand his tone, but he suffered the words to
+go unchallenged. He was not there to discuss the higher morality with a
+dying man. Moreover, he knew that the bare mention of water was a fiery
+torture to him, disguise it as he might.
+
+He sat a little longer, then rose to go. He fancied that there was a
+shade less of restlessness about this man, whom he knew to be suffering
+what no other man in the tent could have endured in silence.
+
+In response to a sign he stooped to catch a few, low-spoken words.
+
+"By-and-bye," said Private Ford, with husky self-assurance, "when it's
+dark--or only moonlight--a man will creep out between the lines and
+crawl down to the river, to get some water for--the children."
+
+He was wandering again, Durant saw; and his pity mounted high.
+
+"Perhaps, poor fellow; perhaps," he answered gently.
+
+As he went away he heard again the droning, unconscious voice:
+
+"And power was given unto him to scorch men with fire. And men were
+scorched--with great heat. Eh, Sammy? Is that water you have there?
+Quick! Give me--what? There is none? Then why the--why the--" There came
+an abrupt pause; then a brief, dry chuckle that was like the crackling
+of flame through dead twigs. "Ah, I forgot. I mustn't curse. I've got to
+set the example to these children. But, O God, the heat and the flies!"
+
+Durant wondered if after all it had been a kindness to call back the
+passing spirit that had begun to forget.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Slowly the scorching day wore away, till evening descended in a blaze of
+gorgeous colouring upon the desolate African wilderness and the band of
+men that had been surrounded and cut off by a wily enemy.
+
+They were expecting relief. Hourly they expected it, but, being hampered
+by a score of wounded, it was not possible for them to break through the
+thickly populated scrub unassisted. And they had no water.
+
+A stream flowed, brown and sluggish, not more than a hundred yards below
+the camp. But that same stream was flanked on the farther side by a
+long, black line of thicket that poured forth fire upon any man who
+ventured out from behind the great rocks that protected the camp.
+
+It had been attempted again and again, for the needs of the wounded were
+desperate. But each effort had been disastrous, and at last an order had
+gone forth that no man was to expose himself again to this deadly risk.
+
+So, silent behind their entrenchments, with the hospital tent in their
+midst, the British force had to endure the situation, waiting with a
+dogged patience for the coming of their comrades who could not be far
+away.
+
+Regal to the last, the sun sank away in orange and gold; and night,
+burning, majestic, shimmering, spread over a cloudless sky. A full moon
+floated up behind dense forest trees, and shed a glimmering radiance
+everywhere. The heat did not seem to vary by a breath.
+
+A great restlessness spread like a wave through the hospital tent. Men
+waked from troubled slumber, crying aloud like children, piteously,
+unreasoningly, for water.
+
+The doctor went from one to another, restraining, soothing, reassuring.
+His influence made itself felt, and quiet returned; but it was a quiet
+that held no peace; it was the silent gripping of an agony that was
+bound to overcome.
+
+Again and again through the crawling hours the bitter protest broke out
+afresh, like the crying of souls in torment. One or two became delirious
+and had to be forcibly restrained from struggling forth in search of
+that which alone could still their torture.
+
+Durant was too fully occupied with these raving patients of his to spare
+any attention for the bed in the far corner on which they had laid the
+one man whose injuries were mortal. If he thought of the man at all, it
+was to reflect that he was probably dead.
+
+But at last a young officer entered the seething tent, and touched him
+on the shoulder.
+
+"Can you come outside a moment? You're wanted," he said.
+
+Durant turned from a man who was lying exhausted and barely conscious,
+took up his case, and followed him out. He did just glance at the bed in
+the corner as he went, but he saw no movement there.
+
+His summoner turned upon him abruptly as they emerged.
+
+"Look here," he said. "There's a water-bag quite full, waiting for those
+poor beggars in there. Better send one of the orderlies for it."
+
+"Water!" said Durant sharply, as if the news were difficult to believe.
+Then, recovering himself: "Tell the sentry, will you? I can't spare an
+orderly."
+
+The young officer complied, and hurried him on.
+
+"The poor chap is breathing his last," he said. "You can't do him any
+good, but he wants you."
+
+"Who is it?" asked the doctor.
+
+"The man who fetched the water--Ford. He was badly wounded when he
+started. He crawled every inch of the way on his stomach, and back
+again, dragging the bag with him. Heaven knows how he did it! It's taken
+him hours."
+
+"Ford?" the doctor said incredulously. "Ford? Impossible! How did he get
+away?"
+
+"Oh, he crawled through somehow; Heaven only knows how! But he's done
+now, poor beggar--pegging out fast. We got him into shelter, but we
+couldn't do more, he was in such agony."
+
+The speaker stopped, for Durant had broken into a run. The moonlight
+showed him a group of men gathered about a prone figure. They separated
+and stood aside as he reached them; and he, kneeling, found in the prone
+figure the man who had talked with him in the afternoon of the friend
+who had played him false.
+
+He was very far gone, lying in a dreadful twisted heap, his head, with
+its bloodstained bandages, resting on his arm. Yet Durant saw that he
+still lived, and tried with gentle hands to ease the strain of his
+position.
+
+With a sharp gasp, Ford opened his eyes.
+
+"Hullo!" he said. "It's you, is it? Did they get the water?"
+
+"They have got it by now," the doctor answered.
+
+"Ah!" The man's lips twisted in a difficult smile. He struggled bravely
+to keep the mortal agony out of his face. "Gave you the slip that time,"
+he gasped. "Disobeyed orders, too. But it didn't matter--except for
+example. You must tell them, eh? Dying men have privileges."
+
+"Tell him he'd have had the V. C. for it," whispered the officer in
+command, over the doctor's shoulder.
+
+Durant complied, and caught the quick gleam that shot up in the dying
+eyes at his words.
+
+"The gods were always behind time--with me," came the husky whisper. "I
+used to think I'd scale Olympus, but--they kicked me down. If--if
+there's any water to spare, when it's gone round, I--I----"
+
+He broke off with a rending cough. Some one put a tin cup into the
+doctor's hand, and he held it to the parched lips. Ford drank in great
+gulps, and, as he drank, the worst agony passed. His limbs relaxed after
+the draught, and he lay quite still, his face to the sky.
+
+After the passage of minutes he spoke again suddenly. His voice was no
+longer husky, but clear and strong. His eyes were the eyes of a man who
+sees a vision.
+
+"Jove!" he said. "What a princely gathering to see me carry out my bat!
+Don't grin, you fellows. I know it was a fluke--a dashed fine fluke,
+too. But it's what I always meant, after all. There's good old Monty,
+yelling himself hoarse in the pavilion. And his girl--waving. Sweet
+girl, too--the best in the world. I might cut him out there. But I
+won't, I won't! I'm not such a hound as that, though she's the only
+woman in the world, bless her, bless her!"
+
+He stopped. Durant was bending over him, listening eagerly, as one might
+listen to the voice of an old, familiar friend, heard again after many
+years.
+
+He did not speak. He seemed afraid to dispel the other's dream. But
+after a moment, the man in his arms made a sudden, impulsive movement
+towards him. It was almost like a gesture of affection. And their eyes
+met.
+
+There followed a brief silence that had in it something of strain. Then
+Ford uttered a shaky laugh. The vision had passed.
+
+"So--you see--he had to die--anyhow," he said. "My love to--your wife,
+dear old Monty! Tell her--I'm--awfully--pleased!"
+
+His voice ceased, yet for a moment his lips still seemed to form words.
+
+Durant stooped lower over him, and spoke at last with a sort of urgent
+tenderness.
+
+"Leo!" he said. "Leo, old chap!"
+
+But there came no answer save a faint, still smile. The man he called
+had passed beyond his reach.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Relief came to the beleaguered force at daybreak, and the worst incident
+of the campaign ended without disaster. A casualty list, published in
+the London papers a few days later, contained an announcement, which
+concerned nobody who read it, to the effect that Private Ford, of a West
+African Regiment, had succumbed to his wounds.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                       The Friend Who Stood By
+
+
+
+
+"And you will come back, Jim? Promise! Promise!"
+
+"Of course, darling--of course! There! Don't cry! Can't you see it's a
+chance in a thousand? I've never had such a chance before."
+
+The sound of a woman's low sobbing was audible in the silence that
+followed; and a man who was leaning on the sea-wall above, started and
+peered downwards.
+
+He could dimly discern two figures standing in the shadow of a great
+breakwater below him. More than that he could not distinguish, for it
+was a dark night; but he knew that the man's arms were about the girl,
+and that her face was hidden against him.
+
+Realising himself to be an intruder, he stood up and began to walk away.
+
+He had not gone a dozen yards before the sound of flying feet caught his
+attention, and he turned his head. A woman's light figure was running
+behind him along the deserted parade. He waited for her under a
+gas-lamp.
+
+She overtook him and fled past him without a pause. He caught a glimpse
+of a pale face and fair hair in wild disorder.
+
+Then she was gone again into the night, running swiftly. The darkness
+closed about her, and hid her from view.
+
+The man on the parade paused for several seconds, then walked back to
+his original resting-place by the sea-wall.
+
+The band on the pier was playing a jaunty selection from a comic opera.
+It came in gusts of gaiety. The wash of the sea, as it crept up the
+beach, was very mysterious and remote.
+
+Below, on the piled shingle, a man stood alone, staring out over the
+darkness, motionless and absorbed.
+
+The watcher above him struck a match at length and kindled a cigarette.
+His face was lit up during the operation. It was the face of a man who
+had seen a good deal of the world and had not found the experience
+particularly refreshing. Yet, as he looked down upon the silent figure
+below him, there was more of compassion than cynicism in his eyes. There
+was a glint of humour also, like the shrewd half-melancholy humour of a
+monkey that possesses the wisdom of all the ages, and can impart none of
+it.
+
+Suddenly there was a movement on the shingle. The lonely figure had
+turned and flung itself face downwards among the tumbling stones. The
+abandonment of the action was very young, and perhaps it was that very
+fact that made it so indescribably pathetic. To Lester Cheveril, leaning
+on the sea-wall, it appealed as strongly as the crying of a child. He
+glanced over his shoulder. The place was deserted. Then he deliberately
+dropped his cigarette-case over the wall and exclaimed: "Confound it!"
+
+The prone figure on the shingle rolled over and sat up.
+
+"Hullo!" said Cheveril.
+
+There was a distinct pause before a voice replied: "Hullo! What's the
+matter?"
+
+"I've dropped my cigarette-case," said Cheveril. "Beastly careless of
+me!"
+
+Again there was a pause. Then the man below him stumbled to his feet.
+
+"I've got a match," he said. "I'll see if I can find it."
+
+"Don't trouble," said Cheveril politely. "The steps are close by."
+
+He walked away at an easy pace and descended to the beach. The flicker
+of a match guided him to the searcher. As he drew near, the light went
+out, and the young man turned to meet him.
+
+"Here it is," he said gruffly.
+
+"Many thanks!" said Cheveril. "It's so confoundedly dark to-night. I
+scarcely expected to see it again."
+
+The other muttered an acknowledgment, and stood prepared to depart.
+
+Cheveril, however, paused in a conversational attitude. He had not
+risked his property for nothing.
+
+"A pretty little place, this," he said. "I suppose you are a visitor
+here like myself?"
+
+"I'm leaving to-morrow," was the somewhat grudging rejoinder.
+
+"I only came this afternoon," said Cheveril. "Is there anything to see
+here?"
+
+"There's the sea and the lighthouse," his companion told him
+curtly--"nothing else."
+
+Cheveril smiled faintly to himself in the darkness.
+
+"Try one of these cigarettes," he said sociably. "I don't enjoy smoking
+alone."
+
+He was aware, as his unknown friend accepted the offer, that he would
+have infinitely preferred to refuse.
+
+"Been here long?" he asked him, as they plunged through the shingle
+towards the sand.
+
+"I've lived here nearly all my life," was the reply. And, after a
+moment, as if the confidence would not be repressed: "I'm leaving
+now--for good."
+
+"Ah!" said Cheveril sympathetically. "It's pretty beastly when you come
+to turn out. I've done it, and I know."
+
+"It's infernal," said the other gloomily, and relapsed into silence.
+
+"Going abroad?" Cheveril ventured presently.
+
+"Yes. Going to the other side of the world." Surliness had given place
+to depression in the boy's voice. Sympathy, albeit from an unknown
+quarter, moved him to confidence. "But it isn't that I mind," he said, a
+moment later. "I should be ready enough to clear out if it weren't
+for--some one else!"
+
+"A woman, I suppose?" Cheveril said.
+
+He was aware that his companion glanced at him sharply through the
+gloom, and knew that he was momentarily suspected of eavesdropping.
+
+Then, with impulsive candour, the answer came:
+
+"Yes; the girl I'm engaged to. She has got to stay behind and
+marry--some one else."
+
+Cheveril's teeth closed silently upon his lower lip. This, also, was one
+of the things he knew.
+
+"You can't trust her, then?" he said, after a pause.
+
+"Oh, she cares for me--of course!" the boy answered. "But there isn't a
+chance for us. They are all dead against me, and the other fellow will
+be on the spot. He hasn't asked her yet, but he means to. And her people
+will simply force her to accept him when he does. Of course they will!
+He is Cheveril, the millionaire. You must have heard of him. Every one
+has."
+
+"I know him well," said Cheveril.
+
+"So do I--by sight," the boy plunged on recklessly--"an undersized
+little animal with a squint."
+
+"I didn't know he squinted," Cheveril remarked into the darkness. "But,
+anyhow, they can't make her marry against her will."
+
+"Can't they?" returned the other fiercely. "I don't know what you call
+it, then. They can make her life so positively unbearable that she will
+have to give in, if it is only to get away from them. It's perfectly
+fiendish; but they will do it. I know they will do it. She hasn't a
+single friend to stand by her."
+
+"Except you," said Cheveril.
+
+They had nearly reached the water. The rush and splash of the waves held
+something solemn in their harmonies, like the chords of a splendid
+symphony. Cheveril heard the quick, indignant voice at his side like a
+cry of unrest breaking through.
+
+"What can I do?" it said. "I have never had a chance till now. I have
+just had a berth in India offered to me; but I can't possibly hope to
+support a wife for two years at least. And meanwhile--meanwhile----"
+
+It stopped there; and a long wave broke with a roar, and rushed up in
+gleaming foam almost to their feet. The younger man stepped back; but
+Cheveril remained motionless, his face to the swirling water.
+
+Quite suddenly at length he turned, as a man whose mind is made up, and
+began to walk back to the dimly lighted parade. He marched straight up
+the shingle, as if with a definite purpose in view, and mounted the
+rickety iron ladder to the pavement.
+
+His companion followed, too absorbed by his trouble to feel any
+curiosity regarding the stranger to whom he had poured it out.
+
+Under a flaring gas-lamp, Cheveril stood still.
+
+"Do you mind telling me your name?" he said abruptly.
+
+That roused the boy slightly. "My name is Willowby," he answered--"James
+Willowby."
+
+He looked at Cheveril with a dawning wonder, and the latter uttered a
+short, grim laugh. The light streamed full upon his face.
+
+"You know me well, don't you," he said, "by sight?"
+
+Young Willowby gave a great start and turned crimson. He offered neither
+apology nor excuse.
+
+"I like you for that," Cheveril said, after a moment. "Can you bring
+yourself to shake hands?"
+
+There was unmistakable friendliness in his tone, and Willowby responded
+to it promptly. He was a sportsman at heart, however he might rail at
+circumstance.
+
+As their hands met, he looked up with a queer, mirthless smile.
+
+"I hope you are going to be good to her," he said.
+
+"I am going to be good to you both," said Lester Cheveril quietly.
+
+In the silence that followed his words, the band on the pier became
+audible on a sudden gust of wind. It was gaily jigging out the tune of
+"The Girl I Left Behind Me."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"What a secluded corner, Miss Harford! May I join you?"
+
+Evelyn Harford looked up with a start of dismay. He was the last person
+in the world with whom she desired a _tête-à-tête_; but he was dining at
+her father's house, and she could not well refuse. Reluctantly she laid
+aside the paper on her knee.
+
+"I thought you were playing bridge," she said, in a chilly tone.
+
+"I cried off," said Cheveril.
+
+He stood looking down at her with shrewd, kindly eyes. But the girl was
+too intent upon making her escape to notice his expression.
+
+"Won't you go to the billiard-room?" she said. "They are playing pool."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I came here expressly to talk to you," he said.
+
+"Oh!" said Evelyn.
+
+She leaned back in her chair, and tried to appear at her ease; but her
+heart was thumping tumultuously. The man was going to propose, she
+knew--she knew; and she was not ready for him. She felt that she would
+break down ignominiously if he pressed his suit just then.
+
+Cheveril, however, seemed in no hurry. He sat down facing her, and there
+followed a pause, during which she felt that he was studying her
+attentively.
+
+Growing desperate at length, she looked him in the face, and spoke.
+
+"I am not a very lively companion to-night, Mr. Cheveril," she said.
+"That is why I came away from the rest."
+
+There was more of appeal in her voice than she intended; and, realising
+it, she coloured deeply, and looked away again. He was just the sort of
+man to avail himself of a moment's weakness, she told herself, with
+rising agitation. Those shrewd eyes of his missed nothing.
+
+But Cheveril gave no sign of having observed her distress. He maintained
+his silence for some seconds longer. Then, somewhat abruptly, he broke
+it.
+
+"I didn't follow you in order to be amused, Miss Harford," he said. "The
+fact is, I have a confession to make to you, and a favour to ask. And I
+want you to be good enough to hear me out before you try to answer. May
+I count on this?"
+
+The dry query did more to quiet her perturbation than any solicitude.
+She was quite convinced that he meant to propose to her, but his absence
+of ardour was an immense relief. If he would only be businesslike and
+not sentimental, she felt that she could bear it.
+
+"Yes, I will listen," she said, facing him with more self-possession
+than she had been able to muster till that moment. "But I shall want a
+fair hearing, too--afterwards."
+
+A faint smile flickered across Cheveril's face.
+
+"I shall want to listen to you," he said. "The confession is this: Last
+night I went down to the parade to smoke. It was very dark. I don't know
+exactly what attracted me. I came upon two people saying good-bye on the
+beach. One of them--a woman--was crying."
+
+He paused momentarily. The girl's face had frozen into set lines of
+composure. It looked like a marble mask. Her eyes met his with an
+assumption of indifference that scarcely veiled the desperate defiance
+behind.
+
+"When does the confession begin?" she asked him, with a faint laugh that
+sounded tragic in spite of her.
+
+He leaned forward, scrutinising her with a wisdom that seemed to pierce
+every barrier of conventionality and search her very soul.
+
+"It begins now," he said. "She came up on to the parade immediately
+after, and I waited under a lamp to get a glimpse of her. I saw her
+face, Miss Harford. I knew her instantly." The girl's eyes flickered a
+little, and she bit her lip. She was about to speak, but he stopped her
+with sudden authority. "No, don't answer!" he said. "Hear me out. I
+waited till she was gone, and then I joined the young fellow on the
+beach. He was in the mood for a sympathetic listener, and I drew him
+out. He told me practically everything--how he himself was going to
+India and had to leave the girl behind, how her people disapproved of
+him, and how she was being worked upon by means little short of
+persecution to induce her to marry an outsider on the wrong side of
+forty, with nothing to recommend him but the size of his banking
+account. He added that she had not a single friend to stand by and make
+things easier for her. It was that, Miss Harford, that decided me to
+take this step. I can't see a woman driven against her will; anything in
+the world sooner than that. And here comes my request. You want a friend
+to help you. Let me be that friend. There is a way out of this
+difficulty if you will but take it. Since I got you into it, it is only
+fair that I should be the one to help you out. This is not a proposal of
+marriage, though it may sound like one."
+
+He ended with a smile that was perfectly friendly and kind.
+
+The rigid look had completely passed from the girl's face. She was
+listening with a curious blend of eagerness and reluctance. Her cheeks
+were burning; her eyes like stars.
+
+"I am so thankful to hear you say that," she said, drawing a deep
+breath.
+
+"Shall I go on?" said Cheveril.
+
+She hesitated; and very quietly he held out his hand to her.
+
+"In the capacity of a friend," he said gravely.
+
+And Evelyn Harford put her hand into his with the confidence of a child.
+It was strange to feel her prejudice against this man evaporate at a
+touch. It made her oddly unsure of herself. He was the last person in
+the world to whom she would have voluntarily turned for help.
+
+"Don't be startled by what I am going to say," Cheveril said. "It may
+strike you as an eccentric suggestion, but there is nothing in it to
+alarm you. Young Willowby tells me that it will take him two years to
+make a home for you, and meanwhile your life is to be made a martyrdom
+on my account. Will you put your freedom in my hands for that two years?
+In other words, will you consider yourself engaged to me for just so
+long as his absence lasts? It will save you endless trouble and
+discomfort, and harm no one. When Willowby comes back, I shall hand you
+over to him, and your happiness will be secured. Think it over, and
+don't be scared. You will find me quite easy to manage. In any case, I
+am a friend you can trust, remember, even though I have got the face of
+a baboon."
+
+So, with absolute quietness, he made his proposal; and Evelyn, amazed
+and incredulous, heard him out in silence. At his last words she gave a
+quick laugh that sounded almost hysterical.
+
+"Oh, don't," she said--"don't! You make me feel so ashamed."
+
+Cheveril's face was suddenly quizzical.
+
+"There is nothing to be ashamed of," he said. "I take all the
+responsibility, and it would give me very great pleasure to help you."
+
+"But I couldn't do such a thing!" she protested. "I couldn't!"
+
+"Listen!" said Cheveril. "I am off for a yachting trip in the Pacific in
+a week, and I give you my word of honour not to return for nine months,
+at least. Will that make it easier for you?"
+
+"I am not thinking of myself," she told him, with vehemence. "Of course,
+it would make everything right for me, so long as Jim knew. But I must
+think of you, too. I must----"
+
+"You needn't," Cheveril said gently; "you needn't. I have asked to be
+allowed to stand by you, to have the great privilege of calling myself
+your friend in need. I am romantic enough to like to see a love affair
+go the right way. It is for my pleasure, if you care to regard it from
+that point of view." He paused, and into his eyes there came a queer,
+watchful expression--the look of a man who hazards much, yet holds
+himself in check. Then he smiled at her with baffling humour.
+
+"Don't refuse me my opportunity, Miss Harford," he said. "I know I am
+eccentric, but I assure you I can be a staunch friend to those I like."
+
+Evelyn had risen, and as he ended he also got to his feet. He knew that
+she was studying him with all her woman's keenness of perception. But
+the game was in his hands, and he realised it. He was no longer afraid
+of the issue.
+
+"You offer me this out of friendship?" she said at last.
+
+He watched her fingers nervously playing with a bracelet on her wrist.
+
+"Exactly," he said.
+
+Her eyes met his resolutely.
+
+"Mr. Cheveril," she said (and though she spoke quietly, it was with an
+effort), "I want you, please, to answer just one question. You have been
+shown all the cards; but there must--there shall be--fair play, in spite
+of it."
+
+Her voice rang a little. The bracelet suddenly slipped from her hand and
+fell to the floor. Cheveril stooped and picked it up. He held it as he
+made reply.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I like fair play, too."
+
+"Then you will tell me the truth?" she said, holding out her hand for
+her property. "I want to know if--if you were really going to ask me to
+marry you before this happened?"
+
+He looked at her with raised eyebrows. Then he took the extended hand.
+
+"Of course I was!" he said simply. She drew back a little, but Cheveril
+showed no discomfiture. "You see, I'm getting on in life," he said, in a
+patriarchal tone. "No doubt it was rank presumption on my part to
+imagine myself in any way suited to you; but I thought it would be nice
+to have a young wife to look after me. And you know the proverb about
+'an old man's darling.' I believe I rather counted on that."
+
+Again he looked quizzical; but the girl was not satisfied.
+
+"That's ridiculous!" she said. "You talk as if you were fifty years
+older than you are. It may be funny, but it isn't strictly honest."
+
+Cheveril laughed.
+
+"I know what you mean," he said. "But really I'm not being funny. And I
+am telling you the simple truth when I say that all sentimental nonsense
+was knocked out of me long ago, when the girl I cared for ran away with
+a good-looking beast in the Army. Also, I am quite honest when I assure
+you that I would rather be your trusted friend and accomplice than your
+rejected suitor. By Jove, I seem to be asking a good deal of you!"
+
+"No, don't laugh," she said quickly, almost as if something in his
+careless speech had pained her. "We must look at the matter from every
+stand-point before--before we take any action. Suppose you really did
+want to marry some one? Suppose you fell in love again? What then?"
+
+"What then?" said Cheveril. And, though he was obligingly serious, she
+felt that somehow, somewhere, he was tricking her. "I should have to ask
+you to release me in that event. But I don't think it's very likely that
+will happen. I'm not so impressionable as I was."
+
+She looked at him doubtfully. Obviously he was not in love with her, yet
+she was uneasy. She had a curious sense of loss, of disappointment,
+which even Jim's departure had not created in her.
+
+"I don't feel that I am doing right," she said finally.
+
+"I am quite unscrupulous," said Cheveril lightly. "Moreover, there is no
+harm to any one in the transaction. Your life is your own. No one else
+has the right to order it for you. It seems to me that in this matter
+you need to consider yourself alone."
+
+"And you," she said, in a troubled tone.
+
+He surprised her an instant later by thrusting a friendly hand through
+her arm.
+
+"Come!" he said, smiling down at her. "Let us go and announce the good
+news!"
+
+And so she yielded to him, and went.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The news of Evelyn Harford's engagement to Lester Cheveril was no great
+surprise to any one. It leaked out through private sources, it being
+understood that no public announcement was to be made till the marriage
+should be imminent. And as Cheveril had departed in his yacht to the
+Pacific very shortly after his proposal, there seemed small likelihood
+of the union taking place that year.
+
+Meanwhile, her long battle over, Evelyn prepared herself to enjoy her
+hard-earned peace. Her father no longer poured hurricanes of wrath upon
+her for her obduracy. Her mother's bitter reproaches had wholly ceased.
+The home atmosphere had become suddenly calm and sunny. The eldest
+daughter of the house had done her obvious duty, and the family was no
+longer shaken and upset by internal tumult.
+
+But the peace was only on the surface so far as Evelyn was concerned.
+Privately, she was less at peace than she had ever been, and that not on
+her own account or on Jim Willowby's. Every letter she received from the
+man who had taken her part against himself stirred afresh in her a keen
+self-reproach and sense of shame. He wrote to her from every port he
+touched, brief, friendly epistles that she might have shown to all the
+world, but which she locked away secretly, and read only in solitude.
+Her letters to him were even briefer, and she never guessed how Cheveril
+cherished those scanty favours.
+
+So through all that summer they kept up the farce. In the autumn Evelyn
+went to pay a round of visits at various country-houses, and it was
+while staying from home that a letter from Jim Willowby reached her.
+
+He wrote in apparently excellent spirits. He had had an extraordinary
+piece of luck, he said, and had been offered a very good post in Burmah.
+If she would consent to go out to him, they could be married at once.
+
+That letter Evelyn read during a solitary ramble over a wide Yorkshire
+moor, and when she looked up from the boy's signature her expression was
+hunted, even tragic.
+
+Jim had carefully considered ways and means. The thing she had longed
+for was within her grasp. All she had ever asked for herself was flung
+to her without stint.
+
+But--what had happened to her? she wondered vaguely--she realised it all
+fully, completely, yet with no thrill of gladness. Something subtly
+potent seemed wound about her heart, holding her back; something that
+was stronger far than the thought of Jim was calling to her, crying
+aloud across the barren deserts of her soul. And in that moment she knew
+that her marriage with Jim had become a final impossibility, and that it
+was imperative upon her to write at once and tell him so.
+
+She walked miles that day, and returned at length utterly wearied in
+body and mind. She was facing the hardest problem of her life.
+
+Not till after midnight was her letter to Jim finished, and even then
+she could not rest. Had she utterly ruined the boy's life? she wondered,
+as she sealed and directed her crude, piteous appeal for freedom.
+
+When the morning light came grey through her window she was still poring
+above a blank sheet of notepaper.
+
+This eventually carried but one sentence, addressed to the friend who
+had stood by her in trouble; and later in the day she sent it by cable
+to the other side of the world. The message ran: "Please cancel
+engagement.--Evelyn." His answering cable was brought to her at the
+dinner-table. Two words only--"Delighted.--Lester."
+
+Out of a mist of floating uncertainty she saw her host bend towards her.
+
+"All well, I trust?" he said kindly.
+
+And she made a desperate effort to control her weakness and reply
+naturally.
+
+"Oh, quite, quite," she said. "It is exactly what I expected."
+Nevertheless, she was trembling from head to foot, as if she had been
+dealt a stunning blow.
+
+Had she altogether expected so prompt and obliging a reply?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Some weeks later, on an afternoon of bleak, early spring, Evelyn
+wandered alone on the shore where she had bidden Jim Willowby farewell.
+It was raining, and the sea was grey and desolate. The tide was coming
+in with a fierce roaring that seemed to fill the whole world.
+
+She had a letter from Jim in her hand--his answer to her appeal for
+freedom; and she had sought the solitude of the shore in which to read
+it.
+
+She took shelter from the howling sea-wind behind a great boulder of
+rock. She dreaded his reproaches unspeakably. For the past six weeks she
+had lived in dread of that moment. Her fingers were shaking as she
+opened the envelope that bore his boyish scrawl.
+
+An enclosure fell out before she had withdrawn his letter. She caught it
+up hastily before the wind could take possession. It was an unmounted
+photograph--actually the portrait of a girl.
+
+Evelyn stared at the roguish, laughing face with a great amazement.
+Then, with a haste that baffled its own ends, she sought his letter.
+
+It began with astounding jauntiness:
+
+     "DEAR OLD EVE,--What a pair of superhuman idiots we have
+     been! Many thanks for your sweet letter, which did me no end of
+     good. I never loved you so much before, dear. Can you believe it? I
+     am not surprised that you feel unequal to the task of keeping me in
+     order for the rest of our natural lives. Will it surprise you to
+     know that I had my doubts on the matter even when I wrote to
+     suggest it? Never mind, dear old girl, I understand. And may the
+     right man turn up soon and make you happy for the rest of your
+     life!
+
+     "I am sending a photograph of a girl who till three weeks ago was
+     no more than a friend to me, but has since become my _fiancée_.
+     Love is a wonderful thing, Eve. It comes upon you so suddenly and
+     carries you away before you have time to realise what has happened.
+     At least that has been my experience. There is no mistaking the
+     real thing when it actually comes to you.
+
+     "I am getting on awfully well, and like the life. By the way, it
+     was through your friend, Lester Cheveril, that I got this
+     appointment. A jolly decent chap that! I liked him from the first.
+     It isn't every man who will stand being told he squints without
+     taking offence. We are hoping to get married next month.
+     Write--won't you?--and send me your blessing. Much love--Yours
+     ever,
+
+     "JAMES WILLOBY."
+
+Evelyn looked up from the letter with a deep breath of relief. It was so
+amazingly satisfactory. She almost forgot the emptiness of her own life
+for the moment in her rejoicing over Jim's happiness.
+
+There was a little puddle of sea-water at her feet; and she climbed up
+to a comfortable perch on her sheltering rock and turned her face to the
+sea. Somehow, it did not seem so desolate as it had seemed five minutes
+before. This particular seat was a favourite haunt of hers in the
+summer. She loved to watch the tide come foaming up, and to feel the
+salt spray in her face.
+
+Five minutes later, a great wave came hurling at the rock on which she
+sat, and, breaking in a torrent of foam, deluged her from head to foot.
+
+She started up in swift alarm. The tide was coming in fast--much faster
+than she had anticipated. The shore curved inwards in a deep bay just
+there, and the cliffs rose sheer and unscalable from it to a
+considerable height.
+
+Evelyn seldom went down to the shore in the winter, and she was not
+familiar with its dangers. The sea had seemed far enough out for safety
+when she had rounded the point nearest to the town, barely half an hour
+before. It was with almost incredulous horror that she saw that the
+waves were already breaking at the foot of the cliffs she had skirted.
+
+She turned with a sudden, awful fear at her heart to look towards the
+farther point. It was a full mile away, and she saw instantly that she
+could not possibly reach it in time. The waves were already foaming
+white among the scattered boulders at its base.
+
+Again a great wave broke behind her with a sound like the booming of a
+gun; and she realised that she would be surrounded in less than thirty
+seconds if she remained where she was. She slipped and slid down the
+side of the rock with the speed of terror, and plunged recklessly into a
+foot of water at the bottom. Before another wave broke she was dashing
+and stumbling among the rocks like a frenzied creature seeking safety
+from the remorseless, devouring monster that roared behind her.
+
+The next five minutes of her life held for her an agony more terrible
+than anything she had ever known. Sea, sky, wind, and sudden pelting
+rain seemed leagued against her in a monstrous array against which she
+battled vainly with her puny woman's strength. The horror of it was like
+a leaden, paralysing weight. She fought and struggled because instinct
+compelled her; but at her heart was the awful knowledge that the sea had
+claimed her and she could not possibly escape.
+
+She made for the farther point of the bay, though she knew she could not
+reach it in time. The loose shingle crumbled about her feet; the seaweed
+trapped her everywhere. She fell a dozen times in that awful race, and
+each time she rose in agony and tore on. The tumult all about her was
+like the laughter of fiends. She felt as if hell had opened its mouth,
+and she, poor soul, was its easy prey.
+
+There came a moment at last when she tripped and fell headlong, and
+could not rise again. That moment was the culmination of her anguish.
+Neither soul nor body could endure more. Darkness--a howling, unholy
+darkness--came down upon her in a thick cloud from which there was no
+escape. She made a futile, convulsive effort to pray, and lost
+consciousness in the act.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Out of the darkness at length she came.
+
+The tumult was still audible, but it was farther away, less
+overwhelming. She opened her eyes in a strange, unnatural twilight, and
+stared vaguely upwards.
+
+At the same instant she became aware of some one at her side, bending
+over her--a man whose face, revealed to her in the dim light, sent a
+throb of wonder through her heart.
+
+"You!" she said, speaking with a great effort. "Is it really you?"
+
+He was rubbing one of her hands between his own. He paused to answer.
+
+"Yes; it's really me," he said. And she fancied his voice quivered a
+little. "They told me I might perhaps find you on the shore. Are you
+better?"
+
+She tried to sit up, and he helped her, keeping his arm about her
+shoulders. She found herself lying on a ledge of rock high up in the
+slanting wall of a deep and narrow cave. She knew the place well, and
+had always avoided it with instinctive aversion. It was horribly eerie.
+The rocky walls were wet with the ooze and slime of the ages. There was
+a trickle of spring-water along the ridged floor.
+
+Evelyn closed her eyes dizzily. The marvel of the man's presence was
+still upon her, but the horror of death haunted her also. She would
+rather have been drowned outside on the howling shore than here.
+
+"The sea comes in at high tide," she murmured shakily.
+
+Lester Cheveril, crouching beside her, made undaunted reply.
+
+"Yes, I know. But it won't touch us. Don't be afraid!"
+
+The assurance with which he spoke struck her very forcibly; but
+something held her back from questioning the grounds of his confidence.
+
+"How did you get here?" she asked him instead.
+
+"I saw you from the corner of the bay," he said. "It was before you left
+your rock. I climbed round the point over the boulders. I thought at the
+time that there must be some way up the cliff. Then I saw you start
+running, and I knew you were cut off. I yelled to you, but I couldn't
+make you hear. So I had to give chase."
+
+His arm tightened a little about her.
+
+"I am sorry you were scared," he said. "Are you feeling better now?"
+
+She could not understand him. He spoke with such entire absence of
+anxiety. In spite of herself her own fears began to subside.
+
+"Yes, I am better," she said. "But--tell me more. Why didn't you go back
+when you saw what had happened?"
+
+"I couldn't," he said simply. "Besides, even if they launched the
+lifeboat, the chances were dead against their reaching you. I thought of
+a rope, too. But that seemed equally risky. It was a choice of odds. I
+chose what looked the easiest."
+
+"And carried me here?" she said.
+
+The light, shining weirdly in upon his face, showed her that he was
+smiling.
+
+"I couldn't stop to consult you," he said. "I saw this hole, and I made
+for it. I climbed up with you across my shoulder."
+
+"You are wonderfully strong," she said, in a tone of surprise.
+
+He laughed openly.
+
+"Notwithstanding my size," he said. "Yes; I'm fairly muscular, thank
+Heaven."
+
+Evelyn's mind was still working round the problem of deliverance.
+
+"We shall have to stay here for hours," she said, "even if--if----"
+
+He interrupted her with grave authority.
+
+"There is no 'if,' Miss Harford," he said. "We may have to spend some
+hours here; but it will be in safety."
+
+"I don't see how you can tell," she ventured to remark, beginning to
+look around her with greater composure notwithstanding.
+
+"Providence doesn't play practical jokes of that sort," said Cheveril
+quietly. "Do you know I have come from the other end of the earth to see
+you?"
+
+She felt the burning colour rush up to her temples, yet she made a
+determined effort to look him in the face. His eyes, keen and kindly,
+were searching hers, and she found she could not meet them.
+
+"I--I don't know what brought you," she said, in a very low voice.
+
+She felt the arm that supported her grow rigid, and guessed that he was
+putting force upon himself as he made reply.
+
+"Let me explain," he said. "You sent me a cablegram which said, 'Please
+cancel engagement.' Naturally that had but one meaning for me--you and
+Jim Willowby had got the better of your difficulties, and were going to
+be married. In the capacity of friend, I received the news with
+rejoicing. So I cabled back 'Delighted.' Soon after that came a letter
+from Jim to tell me you had thrown him over. Now, why?"
+
+She answered him with her head bent:
+
+"I found that I didn't care for him quite in that way."
+
+Cheveril did not speak for several seconds. Then, abruptly, he said:
+
+"There is another fellow in the business."
+
+She made a slight gesture of appeal, and remained silent.
+
+He leaned forward slowly at length, and laid his hand upon both of hers.
+
+"Evelyn," he said very gently, "will you tell me his name?"
+
+She shook her head instantly. Her lips were quivering, and she bit them
+desperately.
+
+He waited, but no word came. Outside, the roaring of the sea was
+terrible and insistent. The great sound sent a shudder through the girl.
+She shrank closer to the cold stone.
+
+He pulled off his coat and wrapped it round her. Then, as if she had
+been a child, he drew her gently into his arms, and held her so.
+
+"Tell me--now," he said softly.
+
+But she hid her face dumbly. No words would come.
+
+It seemed a long while before he spoke again.
+
+"That cable of yours was a fraud," he said then. "I was not--I am
+not--prepared to release you from your engagement except under the
+original condition."
+
+"I think you must," she said faintly.
+
+He sought for her cold hands and thrust them against his neck. And again
+there was a long silence, while outside the sea raged fiercely, and far
+below them in the distance a white streak of foam ran bubbling over the
+rocky floor.
+
+Soon the streak had become a stream of dancing, storm-tossed water.
+Evelyn watched it with wide, fascinated eyes. But she made no sign of
+fear. She felt as if he had, somehow, laid a quieting hand upon her
+soul.
+
+Higher the water rose, and higher. The cave was filled with dreadful
+sound. It was almost dark, for dusk had fallen. She felt that but for
+the man's presence she would have been wild with fear. But his absolute
+confidence wove a spell about her that no terror could penetrate. The
+close holding of his arms was infinitely comforting to her. She knew
+with complete certainty that he was not afraid.
+
+"It's very dark," she whispered to him once; and he pressed her head
+down upon his breast and told her not to look. Through the tumult she
+heard the strong, quiet beating of his heart, and was ashamed of her own
+mortal fear.
+
+It seemed to her that hours passed while she crouched there, listening,
+as the water rose and rose. She caught the gleam of it now and then, and
+once her face was wet with spray. She clung closer and closer to her
+companion, but she kept down her panic. She felt that he expected it of
+her, and she would have died there in the dark, sooner than have
+disappointed him.
+
+At last, after an eternity of quiet waiting, he spoke.
+
+"The tide has turned," he said. And his tone carried conviction with it.
+
+She raised her head to look.
+
+A dim, silvery light shone mysteriously in revealing the black walls
+above them, the tossing water below. It had been within a foot of their
+resting-place, but it had dropped fully six inches.
+
+Evelyn felt a great throb of relief pass through her. Only then did she
+fully realise how great her fear had been.
+
+"Is that the moon?" she asked wonderingly.
+
+"Yes," said Cheveril. He spoke in a low voice, even with reverence, she
+thought. "We shall be out of this in an hour. It will light us home."
+
+"How--wonderful!" she said, half involuntarily.
+
+Cheveril said no more; but the silence that fell between them was the
+silence of that intimacy which only those who have stood together before
+the great threshold of death can know. Many minutes passed before Evelyn
+spoke again, and then her words came slowly, with hesitation.
+
+"You knew?" she said. "You knew that we were safe?"
+
+"Yes," he answered quietly; "I knew. God doesn't give with one hand and
+take away with the other. Have you never noticed that?"
+
+"I don't know," she answered with a sharp sigh. "He has never given me
+anything very valuable."
+
+"Quite sure?" said Cheveril, and she caught the old quizzical note in
+his voice.
+
+She did not reply. She was trying to understand him in the darkness, and
+she found it a difficult matter.
+
+There followed a long, long silence. The roar of the breaking seas had
+become remote and vague.
+
+But the moonlight was growing brighter. The dark cave was no longer a
+place of horror.
+
+"Shall we go?" Evelyn suggested at last.
+
+He peered downwards.
+
+"I think we might," he said. "No doubt your people will be very anxious
+about you."
+
+They climbed down with difficulty, till they finally stood together on
+the wet stones.
+
+And there Cheveril reached out a hand and detained the girl beside him.
+
+"That other fellow?" he said, in his quiet, half-humorous voice. "You
+didn't tell me his name."
+
+"Oh, please!" she said tremulously.
+
+He took her hands gently into his, and stood facing her. The moonlight
+was full in his eyes. They shone with a strange intensity.
+
+"Do you remember," he said, "how I once said to you that I was romantic
+enough to like to see a love affair go the right way?"
+
+She did not answer him. She was trembling in his hold.
+
+He waited for a few seconds; then spoke, still kindly, but with a force
+that in a measure compelled her:
+
+"That is why I want you to tell me his name."
+
+She turned her face aside.
+
+"I--I can't!" she said piteously.
+
+"Then I hold you to your engagement," said Lester Cheveril, with quiet
+determination.
+
+Her hands leapt in his. She threw him a quick uncertain glance.
+
+"You can't mean that!" she said.
+
+"I do mean it," he rejoined resolutely.
+
+"But--but--" she faltered. "You don't really want to marry me? You
+can't!"
+
+He looked grimly at her for a moment. Then abruptly he broke into a
+laugh that rang and echoed exultantly in the deep shadows behind them.
+
+"I want it more than anything else on earth," he said. "Does that
+satisfy you?"
+
+His face was close to hers, but she felt no desire to escape. That laugh
+of his was still ringing like sweetest music through her soul.
+
+He took her shoulders between his hands, searching her face closely.
+
+"And now," he said--"now tell me his name!"
+
+Yet a moment longer she withstood him. Then she yielded, and went into
+his arms, laughing also--a broken, tearful laugh.
+
+"His name is--Lester Cheveril," she whispered. "But I--I can't think how
+you guessed."
+
+He answered her as he turned her face upwards to meet his own.
+
+"The friend who stands by sees many things," he said wisely. "And Love
+is not always blind."
+
+"But you--you weren't in love," she protested. "Not when----"
+
+He interrupted her instantly and convincingly.
+
+"I have always loved you," he said.
+
+And she believed him, because her own heart told her that he had spoken
+the truth.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                            The Right Man
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+"He hasn't proposed, then?"
+
+"No; he hasn't." A pause; then, reluctantly: "I haven't given him the
+opportunity."
+
+"Violet! Do you want to starve?"
+
+The speaker turned in his chair, and looked at the girl bending over the
+fire, with a quick, impatient frown on his handsome face. They were
+twins, these two, the only representatives of a family that had been
+wealthy three generations before them, but whose resources had dwindled
+steadily under the management of three successive spendthrifts, and had
+finally disappeared altogether in a desperate speculation which had
+promised to restore everything.
+
+"You don't seem to realise," the young man said, "that we are absolutely
+penniless--destitute. Everything is sunk in this Winhalla Railway
+scheme, up to the last penny. It seemed a gorgeous chance at the time.
+It ought to have brought in thousands. It would have done, too, if it
+had been properly supported. But it's no good talking about that. It's
+just a gigantic failure, or, if it ever does succeed, it will come too
+late to help us. Just our infernal luck! And now the question is, what
+is going to be done? You'll have to marry that fellow, Violet. It's
+absolutely the only thing for you to do. And I--I suppose I must
+emigrate."
+
+The girl did not turn her head. There was something tense about her
+attitude.
+
+"I could emigrate too, Jerry," she said, in a low voice.
+
+"You!" Her brother turned more fully round. "You!" he said again. "Are
+you mad, I wonder?"
+
+She made a slight gesture of protest.
+
+"Why shouldn't I?" she said. "At least, we should be together."
+
+He uttered a grim laugh, and rose.
+
+"Look here, Violet," he said, and took her lightly by the shoulders.
+"Don't be a little fool! You know as well as I do that you weren't made
+to rough it. The suggestion is so absurd that it isn't worth discussion.
+You'll have to marry Kenyon. It's as plain as daylight; and I only wish
+my perplexities were as easily solved. Come! He isn't such a bad sort;
+and, anyhow, he's better than starvation."
+
+The girl stood up slowly and faced him. Her eyes were wild, like the
+eyes of a hunted creature.
+
+"I hate him, Jerry! I hate him!" she declared vehemently.
+
+"Nonsense!" said Jerry. "He's no worse than a hundred others. You'd hate
+any one under these abominable circumstances!"
+
+She shuddered, as if in confirmation of this statement.
+
+"I'd rather do anything," she said; "anything, down to selling matches
+in the gutter."
+
+"Which isn't a practical point of view," pointed out Jerry. "You would
+get pneumonia with the first east wind, and die."
+
+"Well, then, I'd rather die." The girl's voice trembled with the
+intensity of her preference. But her brother frowned again at the words.
+
+"Don't!" he said abruptly. "For Heaven's sake, don't be unreasonable!
+Can't you see that it's my greatest worry to get you provided for? You
+must marry. You can't live on charity."
+
+Her cheeks flamed.
+
+"But I can work," she began. "I can----"
+
+He interrupted her impatiently.
+
+"You can't. You haven't the strength, and probably not the ability
+either. It's no use talking this sort of rot. It's simply silly, and
+makes things worse for both of us. It's all very well to say you'd
+rather starve, but when it comes to starving, as it will--as it
+must--you'll think differently. Look here, old girl: if you won't marry
+this fellow for your own sake, do it for mine. I hate it just as much as
+you do. But it's bearable, at least. And--there are some things I can't
+bear."
+
+He stopped. She was clinging to him closely, beseechingly; but he stood
+firm and unyielding, his young face set in hard lines.
+
+"Will you do it?" he said, as she did not speak.
+
+"Jerry!" she said imploringly.
+
+He stiffened to meet the appeal he dreaded. But it did not come. Her
+eyes were raised to his, and she seemed to read there the futility of
+argument. She remained absolutely still for some seconds, then abruptly
+she turned from him and burst into tears.
+
+"Don't! don't!" he said.
+
+He stepped close to her, as she leaned upon the mantelpiece, all the
+hardness gone from his face. Had she known it, the battle at that moment
+might have been hers; for he would have insisted no longer. He was on
+the brink of abandoning the conflict. But her anguish of weeping
+possessed her to the exclusion of everything else.
+
+"Oh, Jerry, go away!" she sobbed passionately. "You're a perfect beast,
+and I'm another! But I'll do it, I'll do it--for your sake, as I would
+do anything in the world, though it's quite true that I'd rather
+starve!"
+
+And Jerry, rather pale, but otherwise complete master of himself, patted
+her shoulder with a hasty assumption of kindly approval; and told her
+that he had always known she was a brick.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+"Heaven knows I don't aspire to be any particular ornament to society,"
+said Dick Kenyon modestly. "Never have; though I've been pretty well
+everything else that you can think of, from cow-puncher to millionaire.
+And I can tell you there's a dashed deal more fun in being the first
+than the last of those. Still, I think I could make you comfortable if
+you would have me; though, if you don't want to, just say so, and I'll
+shunt till further notice."
+
+It was thus that he made his proposal to the girl of his choice; and no
+one, hearing it, would have guessed that beneath his calm, even
+phlegmatic, exterior, the man was in a ferment of anxiety. He spoke with
+a slight nasal twang that seemed to emphasise his deliberation, and his
+face was mask-like in its composure. Of beauty he had none.
+
+His eyes were extraordinarily blue, but the lids drooped over them so
+heavily that his expression was habitually drowsy, even stolid. In
+build, he was short and thick-set, like a bulldog; and there seemed to
+be something of a bulldog's strength in the breadth of his chest, though
+there was no hint of energy about him to warrant its development.
+
+The girl he addressed did not look at him. She sat perfectly still, with
+her hands fast clasped together, and her eyes, wide and despairing,
+fixed upon the fire in front of her. She was wondering desperately how
+long she could possibly endure it. Yet his last words were somehow not
+what she had expected from this man whose manner always seemed to hint
+that at least half of creation was at his sole disposal. They expressed
+a consideration on his part that she had been far from anticipating. He
+waited for an interval of several seconds for her to speak. He was
+standing up on the hearthrug, his ill-proportioned figure thrown into
+strong relief by the firelight behind him. At last, as she quite failed
+to answer him, he drew a pace nearer to her.
+
+"Don't mind me, Miss Trelevan," he said, in a drawl so exaggerated that
+she thought it must be intentional. "Take your time. There's no hurry.
+I've always thought it was a bit hard on a woman to expect her to answer
+an offer of marriage offhand. Perhaps you'd rather write?"
+
+"No," she said, rather breathlessly. "No!" Then, after a pause, still
+more breathlessly: "Won't you sit down?"
+
+He stepped away from her again, to her infinite relief, and sat down a
+couple of yards away.
+
+There ensued a most painful silence, during which the battle in the
+girl's heart raged fiercely. Then at length she took her resolution in
+both hands, and faced him. He was not looking at her. He sat quite
+still, and she fancied that his eyes were closed; but when she spoke he
+turned his head, and she realised that she had been mistaken.
+
+"I can give you your answer now," she said, making the greatest effort
+of her life. "It is--it is--yes."
+
+She rose with the words, almost as if in preparation for headlong
+flight. But Dick Kenyon kept his seat. He leaned forward a little, his
+blue eyes lifted to her face.
+
+"Your final word, Miss Trelevan?" he asked her, in his cool, easy twang.
+
+She wrung her hands together with an unconscious gesture of despair.
+
+"Yes," she said; and added feverishly: "of course."
+
+"You think you've met the right man?" he pursued, his tone one of gentle
+inquiry, as if he were speaking to a child.
+
+She nodded. She was white to the lips.
+
+"Yes," she said again.
+
+He got up then with extreme deliberation.
+
+"Well," he said, a curious smile flickering about his mouth, "that's
+about the biggest surprise I've ever had. And I don't mind telling you
+so. Sure now that you're not making a mistake?"
+
+She uttered a little laugh that sounded hysterical.
+
+"Oh, don't!" she said. "Don't! I have given you my answer!"
+
+"And I'm to take you seriously?" questioned Kenyon. "Very well. I will.
+But you mustn't be frightened."
+
+He stretched out a steady hand, and laid it on her shoulder. She
+quivered at his touch, but she did not attempt to resist.
+
+"Don't be scared," he said very gently. "I know I'm as ugly as blazes;
+at least, I've been told so, but there's nothing else to alarm you if
+you can once get over that."
+
+There was a note of quaint raillery in his voice. He did not try to draw
+her to him. Yet she was conscious of a strength that did battle with her
+half-instinctive aversion--a strength that might have compelled, but
+preferred to attract.
+
+Unwillingly, at length, she looked at him, meeting his eyes,
+good-humouredly critical, watching her.
+
+"I am not frightened," she said, with an effort. "It's only that--just
+at first--till I get used to it--it feels rather strange."
+
+There was unconscious pleading in her voice. He took his hand from her
+shoulder, looking at her with his queer, speculative smile.
+
+"I don't want to hustle you any," he said. "But if that's all the
+trouble, I guess I know a remedy."
+
+Violet drew back sharply.
+
+"Oh, no!" she said. "No!"
+
+She was terrified for the moment lest he should desire to put his remedy
+to the test. But he made no movement in her direction, and another sort
+of misgiving assailed her.
+
+"Don't be vexed," she said unsteadily. "I--I know I'm despicable. But I
+shall get over it--if you will give me time."
+
+"Bless your heart, I'm not vexed," said Kenyon. "I'm only wondering,
+don't you know, how you brought yourself to say 'Yes' to me. But no
+matter, dear. I'm grateful all the same."
+
+He held out his hand to her, and she laid hers nervously within it. She
+could not meet his eyes any longer.
+
+Kenyon stooped and put his lips to her cold fingers.
+
+"Jove!" he said softly. "I'm in luck to-day."
+
+And after that he sat down again, and began to behave like an ordinary
+visitor.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+"Great Scotland!" said Jerry.
+
+He looked up from a letter, and gazed at his sister with starting eyes.
+
+"Oh, what?" she exclaimed in alarm.
+
+He sprang up impetuously, and went round the table to her. They were
+breakfasting in the tiny flat which was theirs for but three short
+months longer.
+
+"Guess!" he said. "No, don't! I can't wait. It's the family luck, old
+girl, turned at last! It's the original gorgeous chance again with a
+practical dead certainty pushing behind. It's the Winhalla Railway
+turning up trumps just in time."
+
+And, with a whoop that might have been heard from garret to basement,
+Jerry swept his sister from her chair, and waltzed her giddily round the
+little room till she cried breathlessly for mercy.
+
+"Oh, but do tell me!" she gasped, when he set her down again. "I want to
+understand, Jerry. Don't be so mad. Tell me exactly what has happened!"
+
+"I'll tell you," said Jerry, sitting down on the tablecloth. "It's a
+letter from Gardner--my broker and man of business generally--written
+last night to tell me that one of these swaggering capitalists has got
+hold of the Winhalla Railway scheme, and is going to make things hum.
+Shares are going up already; and they'll run sky high by the end of the
+week. It's bound to be all right. It was always sound enough. It only
+wanted capital. He doesn't tell me the bounder's name, but that's no
+matter. I don't want to go into partnership. I shall sell, sell, sell,
+at the top of the boom. Gardner's to be trusted. He'll know--and
+then--and then----"
+
+"Yes; what does it mean?" the girl broke in. "I want to know exactly,
+Jerry!"
+
+"Mean?" he echoed, his hands upon her shoulders. "It means emancipation,
+wealth, everything we've lost back again, and more to it! Now do you
+understand?"
+
+She gasped for breath. She had turned very pale.
+
+"Oh, Jerry!" she said tragically. "Jerry, why didn't this happen
+before?"
+
+He stared at her for a moment. Then, as understanding came to him, he
+frowned with swift impatience.
+
+"Oh, that must be broken off!" he said. "You can't marry that fellow
+now. Why should you?"
+
+Violet shook her head hopelessly.
+
+"I've promised," she said; "promised to marry him at the end of next
+month."
+
+Jerry jumped up impulsively.
+
+"But that's soon arranged," he declared. "Leave it to me. I'll explain."
+
+"How can you?" questioned Violet.
+
+"I shall put it on a purely business footing," he returned airily.
+"Don't you worry yourself. He isn't the sort of chap to take it to
+heart. You know that as well as I do. Perhaps it might be as well to
+wait till the end of the week and make sure of things, though, before I
+say anything."
+
+But at this point Violet gave him the biggest surprise he had ever
+known. She sprang to her feet with flashing eyes.
+
+"Indeed you won't, Jerry!" she exclaimed. "You will tell him
+to-day--this morning--and end it definitely. Never mind what happens
+afterwards. I won't carry the dishonourable bargain to that length. I've
+little enough self-respect left, but what there is of it I'll keep!"
+
+"Heavens above!" ejaculated Jerry, in amazement. "What's the matter now?
+I was only thinking of you, after all."
+
+"I know you were," she answered passionately. "But you're to think of
+something greater than my physical welfare. You're to think of my
+miserable little rag of honour, and do what you can for that, if you
+really want to help me!"
+
+And with that she went quickly from the room and left him to breakfast
+alone.
+
+He marvelled for a little at her agitation, and then the contents of the
+letter absorbed him again. He had better go and see Gardner, he
+reflected; and then, if the thing really seemed secure, he would take
+Dick Kenyon on his way back--perhaps lunch with him, and explain matters
+in a friendly way. There was certainly nothing for Violet to make a fuss
+about. He was quite fully convinced that the fellow wouldn't care.
+Marriage was a mere incident to men of his stamp.
+
+So, cheerily at length, having disposed of his breakfast, he rose,
+collected his correspondence, which consisted for the most part of
+bills, and, whistling light-heartedly, took his departure.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+"Now," said Dick Kenyon, in his easy, self-assured accents, "sit down
+right there, sonny, and tell me what's on your mind."
+
+He pressed Jerry into his most comfortable chair with hospitable force.
+
+Jerry submitted, because he could not help himself, rather than from
+choice. Patronage from Dick Kenyon was something of an offence to his
+ever-ready pride.
+
+As for Dick, he had not apparently the smallest suspicion of any latent
+resentment of this nature in his visitor's mind. He brought out a box of
+choice cigars, and set them at Jerry's elbow. They had just lunched
+together at Kenyon's rooms; and it had been quite obvious to the latter
+that Jerry had been preoccupied throughout the meal.
+
+Having furnished his guest with everything he could think of to ensure
+his comfort, he proceeded deliberately to provide for his own.
+
+Jerry was not quite at his ease. He sat with the unlighted cigar between
+his fingers, considering with bent brows. Kenyon looked at him at last
+with a faint smile.
+
+"If I didn't know it to be an impossibility," he said, "I should say you
+were shying at something."
+
+Jerry turned towards him with an air of resolution.
+
+"Look here, Kenyon," he said, in his slightly superior tones, "I have
+really come to talk to you about your engagement to my sister."
+
+He paused, aware of a change in Kenyon's expression, but wholly unable
+to discover of what it consisted.
+
+"What about it?" said Kenyon.
+
+He was on his feet, searching the mantelpiece for an ash-tray. His face
+was turned from Jerry, but could he have seen it fully, it would have
+told him nothing.
+
+Jerry went on, with a strong effort to maintain his ease of manner:
+
+"We've been thinking it over, and we have come to the conclusion that
+perhaps, after all, it was a mistake. In short, my sister has thought
+better of it; and, as she is naturally sensitive on the subject, I
+undertook to tell you so, I don't suppose it will make any particular
+difference to you. There are plenty of girls who would jump at the
+chance of marrying your millions. But, of course, if you wish it, some
+compensation could be made."
+
+Jerry paused again. He had placed the matter on the most businesslike
+footing that had occurred to him. Of course, the man must realise that
+he was a rank outsider, and would understand that it was the best
+method.
+
+Kenyon heard him out in dead silence. He had found the ash-tray, but he
+did not turn his head. After several dumb seconds, he walked across the
+room to the window, and stood there. Finally he spoke.
+
+"I don't suppose," he said, in his calm, expressionless drawl, "that you
+have ever had a cowhiding in your life, have you?"
+
+"What?" said Jerry.
+
+He stared at Kenyon in frank amazement. Was the man mad?
+
+"Never had a cowhiding in your life, eh?" repeated Kenyon, without
+moving.
+
+"What do you mean?" exclaimed Jerry.
+
+Kenyon remained motionless.
+
+"I mean," he said calmly, "that I've thrashed a man to a pulp before now
+for a good deal less than you have just offered me. It's my special
+treatment for curs. Suits 'em wonderfully. And suits me, too."
+
+Jerry sprang to his feet in a whirl of wrath, but before he could utter
+a word Kenyon suddenly turned.
+
+"Go back to your sister," he said, in curt, stern tones, "and tell her
+from me that I will discuss this matter with her alone. If she intends
+to throw me over, she must come to me herself and tell me so. Go now!"
+
+But Jerry stood halting between an open blaze of passion and equally
+open discomfiture. He longed to hurl defiance in Kenyon's face, but some
+hidden force restrained him. There was that about the man at that moment
+which compelled submission. And so, at length, he turned without another
+word, and walked straight from the room with as fine a dignity as he
+could muster. By some remarkable means, Dick Kenyon had managed to get
+the best of the encounter.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+Not the next day, nor the next, did Violet Trelevan summon up courage to
+face her outraged lover, and ask for her freedom. Jerry did not tell her
+precisely what had passed, but she gathered from the information he
+vouchsafed that Kenyon had not treated the matter peaceably. She
+wondered a little how Jerry had approached it, and told herself with a
+beating heart that she would have to take her own line of action.
+
+Nevertheless, for a full week she did nothing, and at the end of that
+week the flutter in the Winhalla Railway shares had subsided completely,
+and all Jerry's high hopes were dead. From day to day he had tried to
+console himself and her with the reflection that a speculation of that
+sort was bound to fluctuate, but, in the end, when the shares went down
+to zero, he was forced to own that he had been too sanguine. It had been
+but the last flicker before extinction. The capitalist had evidently
+thought better of risking his money on such a venture.
+
+"And I was a gaping, weak-kneed idiot not to sell for what I could get!"
+he told his sister. "But it's just our luck. I might have known nothing
+decent could ever happen to us!"
+
+It was on that evening, when the outlook was at its blackest, that
+Violet wrote at last, without consulting Jerry, to the man in whose
+hands lay her freedom.
+
+It was a short epistle, and humbly worded, for she realised that this,
+at least, was his due.
+
+"I want you," she wrote, "to forgive me, if you can, for the wrong I
+have done you, and to set me free. I accepted you upon impulse, I am
+ashamed to say, for the sake of your money. But the shame would be even
+greater if I did not tell you so. I do not know what view you will take,
+but my own is that, in releasing me, you will not lose anything that is
+worth having."
+
+The answer to this appeal came the next day by hand:
+
+"May I see you alone at your flat at five o'clock?"
+
+She had not expected it, and she felt for an instant as if a master hand
+had touched her, sending the blood tingling through her veins like fire.
+She sent a reply in the affirmative; and then set herself to face the
+longest day she had ever lived through.
+
+She sat alone during the afternoon, striving desperately to nerve
+herself for the ordeal. But strive as she might, the fact remained that
+she was horribly, painfully frightened. There was something about this
+man which it seemed futile to resist, something that dominated her,
+something against which it hurt her to fight.
+
+She heard his ring punctually upon the stroke of five, and she went
+herself to answer it.
+
+He greeted her with his usual serenity of manner.
+
+"All alone?" he asked, as he followed her into the little drawing-room
+in which he had proposed to her so short a time before.
+
+She assented nervously.
+
+"Jerry went into the city. He won't be back yet."
+
+"That's kind of you," said Kenyon quietly.
+
+She did not ask him to sit down. They faced each other on the hearthrug.
+The strong glare of the electric light showed him that she was very
+pale.
+
+Abruptly he thrust out his hand to her.
+
+"You must forgive me for bullying your brother the other day," he said.
+"Really, he deserved it."
+
+She glanced up quickly.
+
+"Jerry doesn't understand," she said.
+
+He kept his hand outstretched though she did not take it.
+
+"I don't understand, either," he said.
+
+"Do you really want to shake hands with me?" she murmured, her voice
+very low.
+
+"I want to hold your hand in mine, if I may," he answered simply. "I
+think it will help to solve the difficulty. Thank you! Yes; I thought
+you were trembling. Now, why, I wonder?"
+
+She did not answer him. Her head was bent.
+
+"Don't!" he said gently. "There is no cause. Didn't I tell you I would
+shunt if you didn't want me?"
+
+Still she was silent, her hand lying passive in his.
+
+"Come!" he said. "I want to understand, don't you know. That note of
+yours. You say in it that you accepted me for the sake of my money. Even
+so. But I reckon that is more a reason for sticking to me than for
+throwing me over."
+
+He paused, but her head only drooped a little lower.
+
+"Doesn't that reason still exist?" he asked her, point blank.
+
+She shivered at the direct question, but she answered it.
+
+"Yes; it does. And that's why I'm ashamed to go on."
+
+"Why ashamed?" he asked. "How do you know my reason for wanting to marry
+you is as good since I never told you what it was?"
+
+She looked up then, suddenly and swiftly, and caught a curious glint in
+the blue eyes that watched her.
+
+"I do know," she said, speaking quickly, impulsively. "And that's why--I
+can't bear--that you should despise me."
+
+"Ah!" he said. "Do you really care what an outsider like myself thinks
+of you?"
+
+The colour flamed suddenly in her white face, but he went on in his
+quiet drawl as if he had not seen it:
+
+"If I thought it was for your happiness, believe me, I would set you
+free. But, so far, you haven't given me any reason that could justify
+such a step. Can't you think of one? Honestly, now?"
+
+She shook her head. Her eyes were full of blinding tears.
+
+"What is it, then?" urged Kenyon. And suddenly his voice was as soft as
+a woman's. "Has the right man turned up unexpectedly, after all? Is it
+for his sake?"
+
+"Oh, don't!" she cried passionately. "Don't! You hurt me!"
+
+And, turning sharply from him, she hid her face, and broke into
+anguished weeping.
+
+Kenyon stood quite still for perhaps ten seconds; then he moved close to
+her, and put his arm round the slight, sobbing figure.
+
+She did not start or attempt to resist him.
+
+"There, there!" he whispered soothingly. "I knew there was a reason.
+Don't cry, dear! It will be all right--all right. Never mind the beastly
+money. There's going to be a big boom in the Winhalla Railway shares,
+and you'll make your fortune over it. Yes; I know all about that. A
+friend told me. There's a big capitalist pushing behind. They have gone
+down this week, but they are going to rise like a spring tide next. And
+then--you'll be free to marry the right man, eh, dear? I sha'n't stand
+in your way. I'll even come and dance at the wedding, if you'll have
+me."
+
+She uttered a muffled laugh through her tears, and turned slightly
+towards him within the encircling arm.
+
+"I hope you will," she murmured. "Because--because--" She broke off, and
+became silent.
+
+Dick Kenyon's arm did not slacken.
+
+"If you could make it convenient to finish that sentence of yours, I'd
+be real grateful," he observed, at length.
+
+She lifted her face from her hands, and looked him in the eyes. Her own
+were shining.
+
+"Because," she said unsteadily, "I couldn't marry the right man--if you
+weren't there."
+
+He looked straight back at her without a hint of emotion in his heavy
+eyes.
+
+"Quite sure of that?" he asked.
+
+And she laughed again tremulously as she made reply.
+
+"Quite sure, Dick," she said softly, "though I've only just found it
+out."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Jerry, tearing in a little later, brimful of city news, noticed that his
+sister's face was brighter than usual, but failed, in his excitement, to
+perceive a visitor in the room, the visitor not troubling himself to
+rise at his entrance.
+
+"News, Vi!" he shouted. "Gorgeous news! The Winhalla Railway is turning
+up trumps! The shares are simply flying up. I told Gardner I'd sell at
+fifty, but he says they are worth holding on to, for they'll go above
+that. He vows they're safe. And who do you think is the capitalist
+that's pushing behind? Why, Kenyon!"
+
+He broke off abruptly at this point as Kenyon himself arose leisurely
+with a serene smile and outstretched hand.
+
+"Exactly--Kenyon!" he said. "But if you think he's a rank bad speculator
+like yourself, sonny, you're mistaken. I didn't make my money that way,
+and I don't reckon to lose it that way either. But Gardner's right.
+Those shares are safe. They aren't going down again ever any more."
+
+He turned to the girl on his other side, and laid his free hand on her
+shoulder.
+
+"And I guess you'll forgive me for distressing you," he said, "when I
+tell you why I did it."
+
+"Well, why, Dick?" she questioned, her face turned to his.
+
+"I just thought I'd like to know, dear," he drawled, "if there wasn't
+something bigger than money to be got out of this deal. And--are you
+listening, Jerry?--I found there was!"
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                           The Knight Errant
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE APPEAL
+
+
+The Poor Relation hoisted one leg over the arm of his chair, and gazed
+contemplatively at the ceiling.
+
+"Now, I wonder whom I ought to scrag for this," he mused aloud.
+
+A crumpled newspaper lay under his hand, a certain paragraph uppermost
+that was strongly scored with red ink. He had read it twice already and
+after a thoughtful pause he proceeded to read it again.
+
+"A marriage has been arranged and will shortly take place between Cecil
+Mordaunt Rivington and Ernestine, fourth daughter of Lady Florence
+Cardwell."
+
+"Why Ernestine, I wonder?" murmured the Poor Relation. "Thought she was
+still in short frocks. Used to be rather a jolly little kid. Wonder what
+she thinks of the arrangement?"
+
+A faint smile cocked one corner of his mouth--a very plain mouth which
+he wore no moustache to hide.
+
+"And Lady Florence! Ye gods! Wonder what she thinks!"
+
+The smile developed into a snigger, and vanished at a breath.
+
+"But it's really infernally awkward," he declared. "Ought one to go and
+apologise for what one hasn't done? Really, I don't know if I dare!"
+
+Again, as one searching for inspiration, he read the brief paragraph.
+
+"It looks to me, Cecil Mordaunt, as if you are in for a very warm time,"
+he remarked at the end of this final inspection. "Such a time as you
+haven't had since you left Rugby. If you take my advice you'll sit tight
+like a sensible chap and leave this business to engineer itself. No good
+ever came of meddling."
+
+With which practical reflection he rose to fill and light a briar pipe,
+his inseparable companion, before grappling with his morning
+correspondence.
+
+This lay in a neat pile at his elbow, and after a ruminative pause
+devoted to the briar pipe, he applied himself deliberately to its
+consideration.
+
+The first two he examined and tossed aside with a bored expression. The
+third seemed to excite his interest. It was directed in a nervous,
+irregular hand that had tried too hard to be firm, and had spluttered
+the ink in consequence. The envelope was of a pearly grey tint. The Poor
+Relation sniffed at it, and turned up his nose.
+
+Nevertheless, he opened the missive with a promptitude that testified to
+a certain amount of curiosity.
+
+"Dear Knight Errant," he read, in the same desperate handwriting. "Do
+you remember once years ago coming to the rescue of a lady in distress
+who was chased by a bull? The lady has never forgotten it. Will you do
+the same again for the same lady to-day, and earn her undying gratitude?
+If so, will you confirm the statement in the _Morning Post_ as often and
+as convincingly as you can till further notice? I wonder if you will? I
+do wonder. I couldn't ask you if you were anything but poor and a sort
+of relation as well.--Yours, _in extremis_,
+
+"ERNESTINE CARDWELL.
+
+"P.S.--Of course, don't do it if you would really rather not."
+
+"Thank you, Ernestine!" said the Poor Relation. "That last sentence of
+yours might be described as the saving clause. I would very much rather
+not, if the truth be told; which it probably never will be. As you have
+shrewdly foreseen, the subtlety of your '_in extremis_' draws me in
+spite of myself. I have seen you _in extremis_ before, and I must admit
+the spectacle made something of an impression."
+
+He read the letter again with characteristic deliberation, lay back
+awhile with pale blue eyes fixed unswervingly upon the ceiling, and
+finally rose and betook himself to his writing-table.
+
+"Dear Lady in Distress," he wrote. "I am pleased to note that even poor
+relations have their uses. As your third cousin removed to the sixth or
+seventh degree, I shall be most happy to serve you. Pray regard me as
+unreservedly at your disposal. Awaiting your further commands.--Your
+devoted
+
+"KNIGHT ERRANT."
+
+This letter he directed to Miss Ernestine Cardwell and despatched by
+special messenger. Then, with a serene countenance, he glanced through
+his remaining correspondence, stretched himself, yawned, looked out of
+the window, and finally sauntered forth to his club.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+CONGRATULATIONS
+
+
+"Ye gods! I should think Lady Florence is feelin' pretty furious. The
+fellow hasn't a penny, and isn't even an honourable. I thought all her
+daughters were to be princesses or duchesses or ranees or somethin'
+imposin'."
+
+Archie Fielding, gossip-in-chief of the Junior Sherwood Club, beat a
+rousing tattoo on the table, and began to whistle Mendelssohn's "Wedding
+March."
+
+"Wonder if he will want me to be best man," he proceeded. "It'll be the
+seventh time this season. Think I shall make a small charge for my
+services for the future. Not to poor old Cecil, though. He's always
+hard-up. I wonder what they'll live on. I'll bet Miss Ernestine hasn't
+been brought up on cheese and smoked herrings."
+
+"Which is Ernestine?" asked another member, generally known at the club
+as "that ass Bray." "The little one, isn't it; the one that laughs?"
+
+"The cheeky one--yes," said Archie. "I saw her ridin' in the Park with
+Dinghra the other day. Awful brute, Dinghra, if he is a rajah's son."
+
+"Shocking bounder!" said Bray. "But rich--a quality that covers a
+multitude of sins."
+
+"Especially in Lady Florence's estimation," remarked Archie. "She's had
+designs on him ever since Easter. Ernestine is a nice little thing, you
+know, but somehow she hangs fire. A trifle over-independent, I suppose,
+and she has a sharp tongue, too--tells the truth a bit too often, don't
+you know. I don't get on with that sort of girl myself. But I'll swear
+Dinghra is head over ears, the brute. I'd give twenty pounds to punch
+his evil mouth."
+
+"Yes, he's pretty foul, certainly. But apparently she isn't for him. I'm
+surprised that Cecil has taken the trouble to compete. He's kept mighty
+quiet about it. I've met him hardly anywhere this season."
+
+"Oh, he's a lazy animal! But he always does things on the quiet; it is
+his nature to. He's the sort of chap that thinks for about twenty years,
+and then goes straight and does the one and only thing that no one else
+would dream of doin'. I rather fancy, for all his humdrum ways, he would
+be a difficult man to thwart. I'd give a good deal to know how he got
+over Lady Florence, though. He has precious little to recommend him as a
+son-in-law."
+
+At this point some one kicked him violently, and he looked up to see the
+subject of his harangue sauntering up the room.
+
+"Are you talking about me?" he inquired, as he came. "Don't let me
+interrupt, I beg. I know I'm an edifying topic, eh, Archibald?"
+
+"Oh, don't ask me to praise you to your face," said Archie, quite
+unperturbed. "How are you, old chap? We are all gapin' with amazement
+over this mornin's news. Is it really true? Are we to congratulate?"
+
+"Are you referring to my engagement?" asked the Poor Relation, pausing
+in the middle of the group. "Yes, of course it's true. Do you mean to
+say you were such a pack of dunderheads you didn't see it coming?"
+
+"There wasn't anything to see," protested Archie. "You've been lyin'
+low, you howlin' hypocrite! I always said you were a dark horse."
+
+The Poor Relation smiled upon him tolerantly.
+
+"Can't you call me anything else interesting? It seems to have hurt your
+feelings rather, not being in the know. I can't understand your not
+smelling a rat. Where are your wits, man?"
+
+He tapped Archie's head smartly with his knuckles, and passed on, the
+smile still wrinkling his pale eyes and the forehead above them from
+which the hair was steadily receding towards the top of his skull.
+
+Certainly the gods had not been kind to him in the matter of personal
+beauty, but a certain charm he possessed, notwithstanding, which
+procured for him a well-grounded popularity.
+
+"You'll let me wish you luck, anyway, Rivington," one man said.
+
+"Rather!" echoed Archie. "I hope you'll ask me to your weddin'."
+
+"All of you," said the Poor Relation generously. "It's going to be a
+mountainous affair, and Archie shall officiate as best man."
+
+"When is it to take place?" some one asked.
+
+"Oh, very soon--very soon indeed; actual date not yet fixed. St.
+George's, Hanover Square, of course; and afterwards at Lady Florence
+Cardwell's charming mansion in Park Lane. It'll be a thrilling
+performance altogether." The Poor Relation beamed impartially upon his
+well-wishers. He seemed to be hugely enjoying himself.
+
+"And whither will the happy pair betake themselves after the reception?"
+questioned Archie.
+
+"That, my dear fellow, is not yet quite decided."
+
+"I expect you'll go for a motor tour," said Bray.
+
+But Rivington at once shook his head.
+
+"Nothing of that sort. Couldn't afford it. No, we shall do something
+cheaper and more original than that. I've got an old caravan somewhere;
+that might do. Rather a bright idea, eh, Archie?"
+
+"Depends on the bride," said Archie, looking decidedly dubious.
+
+"Eh? Think so? We shall have to talk it over." The Poor Relation
+subsided into a chair, and stretched himself with a sigh. "There are
+such a lot of little things to be considered when you begin to get
+married," he murmured, as he pulled out his pipe.
+
+"Some one wanting you on the telephone, sir," announced one of the club
+attendants at his elbow, a few minutes later.
+
+"Eh? Who is it? Tell 'em I can't be bothered. No, don't. I'm coming."
+
+Laboriously he hoisted himself out of his chair, regretfully he knocked
+the glowing tobacco out of his pipe, heavy-footed he betook him to the
+telephone.
+
+"Hullo!"
+
+"Oh!" said a woman's voice. "Is that you?"
+
+"Yes. Who do you want?"
+
+"Mr. Rivington--Cecil Mordaunt Rivington." The syllables came with great
+distinctness. They seemed to have an anxious ring.
+
+"Yes, I'm here," said the owner of the name. "Who are you?"
+
+"I'm Ernestine. Can you hear me?"
+
+"First-rate! What can I do for you?"
+
+There was a pause, then:
+
+"I had your letter," said the voice, "and I'm tremendously grateful to
+you. I was afraid you might be vexed."
+
+"Not a bit of it," said Rivington genially. "Anything to oblige."
+
+"Thanks so much! It was great cheek, I know, but I've had such a horrid
+fright. I couldn't think of any other way out, and you were the only
+possible person that occurred to me. You were very kind to me once, a
+long time ago. It's awfully decent of you not to mind."
+
+"Please don't!" said Rivington. "That sort of thing always upsets me.
+Look here, can't we meet somewhere and talk things over? It would
+simplify matters enormously."
+
+"Yes, it would. That is what I want to arrange. Could you manage some
+time this afternoon? Please say you can!"
+
+"Of course I can," said Rivington promptly. "What place?"
+
+"I don't know. It must be somewhere right away where no one will know
+us."
+
+"How would the city do? That's nice and private."
+
+A faint laugh came to his ear. "Yes; but where?"
+
+Rivington briefly considered.
+
+"St. Paul's Cathedral, under the dome, three o'clock. Will that do?"
+
+"Yes, I'll be there. You won't fail?"
+
+"Not if I live," said Rivington. "Anything else?"
+
+"No; only a million thanks! I'll explain everything when we meet."
+
+"All right. Good-bye!"
+
+As he hung up the receiver, a heavy frown drove the kindliness out of
+his face.
+
+"What have they been doing to the child?" he said. "It's a pretty
+desperate step for a girl to take. At least it might be, it would be, if
+I were any one else."
+
+Suddenly the smile came back and drew afresh the kindly, humorous lines
+about his eyes.
+
+"She seems to remember me rather well," he murmured. "She certainly was
+a jolly little kid."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE LADY IN DISTRESS
+
+
+The afternoon sunlight streamed golden through the cathedral as Cecil
+Rivington passed into its immense silence. He moved with quiet and
+leisurely tread; it was not his way to hurry. The great clock was just
+booming the hour.
+
+There were not many people about. A few stray footsteps wandered through
+the stillness, a few vague whispers floated to and fro. But the peace of
+the place lay like a spell, a dream atmosphere in which every sound was
+hushed.
+
+Rivington passed down the nave till he reached the central space under
+the great dome. There he paused, and gazed straight upwards into the
+giddy height above him.
+
+As he stood thus calmly contemplative, a light step sounded on the
+pavement close to him, and a low voice spoke.
+
+"Oh, here you are! It's good of you to be so punctual."
+
+He lowered his eyes slowly as if he were afraid of giving them a shock,
+and focussed them upon the speaker.
+
+"I am never late," he remarked. "And I am never early."
+
+Then he smiled kindly and held out his hand.
+
+"Hullo, Chirpy!" he said. "It is Chirpy, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, it is Chirpy. But I never expected you to remember that."
+
+"I remember most things," said Rivington.
+
+His pale eyes dwelt contemplatively on the girl before him. She was very
+slim and young, and plainly very nervous. There was no beauty about
+Ernestine Cardwell, only a certain wild grace peculiarly charming, and a
+quick wit that some people found too shrewd. When she laughed she was a
+child. Her laugh was irresistible, and there was magic in her smile, a
+baffling, elusive magic too transient to be defined. Very sudden and
+very fleeting was her smile. Rivington saw it for an instant only as she
+met his look.
+
+"Do you know," she said, colouring deeply. "I thought you were much
+older than you are."
+
+"I am fifty," said Rivington.
+
+But she shook her head.
+
+"It is very good of you to say so."
+
+"Not at all," smiled Rivington. "You, I fancy, must be about twenty-one.
+How long since the bull episode?"
+
+"Oh, do you remember that, too?" She uttered a faint laugh.
+
+"Vividly," said Rivington. "I have a lively memory of the fleetness of
+your retreat and the violence of your embrace when the danger was over."
+
+She laughed again.
+
+"It was years and years ago--quite six, I should think."
+
+"Quite, I should say," agreed Rivington. "But we have met since then,
+surely?"
+
+"Oh yes, casually. But we are not in the same set, are we? Some one once
+told me you were very Bohemian."
+
+"Who was it? I should like to shoot him!" said Rivington.
+
+At which she laughed again, and then threw a guilty glance around.
+
+"I don't think this is a very good place for a talk."
+
+"Not if you want to do much laughing," said Rivington. "Come along to
+the tea-shop round the corner. No one will disturb us there."
+
+They turned side by side, and began to walk back. The girl moved quickly
+as though not wholly at her ease. She glanced at her companion once or
+twice, but it was not till they finally emerged at the head of the steps
+that she spoke.
+
+"I am wondering more and more how I ever had the impertinence to do it."
+
+"There's no great risk in asking a poor relation to do anything," said
+Rivington consolingly.
+
+"Ah, but I did it without asking." There was an unmistakable note of
+distress in her quick rejoinder. "I was at my wits' end. I didn't know
+what on earth to do. And it came to me suddenly like an inspiration. But
+I wish I hadn't now, with all my heart."
+
+Rivington turned his mild eyes upon her.
+
+"My dear child, don't be silly!" he said. "I am delighted to be of use
+for a change. I don't do much worth the doing, being more or less of a
+loafer. It is good for me to exercise my ingenuity now and then. It only
+gets rusty lying by."
+
+She put out her hand impulsively and squeezed his.
+
+"You're awfully nice to me," she said. "It's only a temporary expedient,
+of course. I couldn't ask you first--there wasn't time. But I'll set you
+free as soon as I possibly can. Have people been talking much?"
+
+"Rather! They are enjoying it immensely. I have had to go ahead like
+steam. I've even engaged a best man."
+
+She threw him a startled look.
+
+"Oh, but----"
+
+"No, don't be alarmed," he said reassuringly. "It's best to take the
+bull by the horns, believe me. The more fuss you make at the outset, the
+quicker it will be over. People will be taking us for granted in a
+week."
+
+"You think so?" she said doubtfully. "I can't think what mother will
+say. I don't dare think."
+
+"Is your mother away, then?"
+
+"Yes, in Paris for a few days. I couldn't have done it if she had been
+at home. I don't know quite what I should have done." She broke off with
+a sudden shudder. "I've had a horrid fright," she said again.
+
+"Come and have some tea," suggested Rivington practically.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+A COUNCIL OF WAR
+
+
+They had tea in a secluded corner, well removed from all prying eyes.
+Gradually, as the minutes passed, the girl's manner became more assured.
+
+When at length he leaned his elbows on the table and said, "Tell me all
+about it," she was ready.
+
+She leaned towards him, and dropped her voice.
+
+"You know Mr. Dinghra Singh? I'm sure you do. Every one does."
+
+"Yes, I know him. They call him Nana Sahib at the clubs."
+
+She shuddered again.
+
+"I used to like him rather. He has a wicked sort of fascination, you
+know. But I loathe him now; I abhor him. And--I am terrified at him."
+
+She stopped. Rivington said nothing. There was not much expression in
+his eyes. Without seeming to scan very closely, they rested on her face.
+
+After a moment, in a whisper, she continued:
+
+"He follows me about perpetually. I meet him everywhere. He looks at me
+with horrid eyes. I know, without seeing, the instant he comes into the
+room."
+
+She paused. Rivington still said nothing.
+
+"He is very rich, you know," she went on, with an effort. "He will be
+Rajah of Ferosha some day. And, of course, every one is very nice to him
+in consequence. I never was that. Don't think it! But I used to laugh at
+him. It's my way. Most men don't like it. No Englishmen do that I know
+of. But he--this man--is, somehow, different from every one else.
+And--can you believe it?--he is literally stalking me. He sends me
+presents--exquisite things, jewellery, that my mother won't let me
+return. I asked him not to once, and he laughed in my face. He has a
+horrible laugh. He is half-English, too. I believe that makes him worse.
+If he were an out-and-out native he wouldn't be quite so revolting. Of
+course, I see my mother's point of view. Naturally, she would like me to
+be a princess, and, as she says, I can't pick and choose. Which is true,
+you know," she put in quaintly, "for men don't like me as a rule; at
+least, not the marrying sort. I rather think I'm not the marrying sort
+myself. I've never been in love, never once. But I couldn't--I could
+not--marry Dinghra. But it's no good telling him so. The cooler I am to
+him the hotter he seems to get, till--till I'm beginning to wonder how I
+can possibly get away."
+
+The note of distress sounded again in her voice. Very quietly, as though
+in answer to it, Rivington reached out a hand and laid it over hers.
+
+But his eyes never varied as he said:
+
+"Won't you finish?"
+
+She bent her head.
+
+"You'll think me foolish to be so easily scared," she said, a slight
+catch in her voice. "Most women manage to take care of themselves. I
+ought to be able to."
+
+"Please go on," he said. "I don't think you foolish at all."
+
+She continued, without raising her eyes:
+
+"Things have been getting steadily worse. Last week at Lady Villar's
+ball I had to dance with him four times. I tried to refuse, but mother
+was there. She wouldn't hear of it. You know"--appealingly--"she is so
+experienced. She knows how to insist without seeming to, so that, unless
+one makes a scene, one has to yield. I thought each dance that he meant
+to propose, but I just managed to steer clear. I felt absolutely
+delirious the whole time. Most people thought I was enjoying it. Old
+Lady Phillips told me I was looking quite handsome." She laughed a
+little. "Well, after all, there seemed to be no escape, and I got
+desperate. It was like a dreadful nightmare. I went to the opera one
+night, and he came and sat close behind me and talked in whispers. When
+he wasn't talking I knew that he was watching me--gloating over me. It
+was horrible--horrible! Last night I wouldn't go out with the others. I
+simply couldn't face it. And--do you know--he came to me!" She began to
+breathe quickly, unevenly. The hands that lay in Rivington's quiet grasp
+moved with nervous restlessness. "There was no one in the house besides
+the servants," she said. "What could I do? He was admitted before I
+knew. Of course, I ought to have refused to see him, but he was very
+insistent, and I thought it a mistake to seem afraid. So I went to
+him--I went to him."
+
+The words came with a rush. She began to tremble all over. She was
+almost sobbing.
+
+Rivington's fingers closed very slowly, barely perceptibly, till his
+grip was warm and close. "Take your time," he said gently. "It's all
+right, you know--all right."
+
+"Thank you," she whispered. "Well, I saw him. He was in a dangerous--a
+wild-beast mood. He told me I needn't try to run away any longer, for I
+was caught. He said--and I know it was true--that he had obtained my
+mother's full approval and consent. He swore that he wouldn't leave me
+until I promised to marry him. He was terrible, with a sort of
+suppressed violence that appalled me. I tried not to let him see how
+terrified I was. I kept quite quiet and temperate for a long time. I
+told him I could never, never marry him. And each time I said it, he
+smiled and showed his teeth. He was like a tiger. His eyes were
+fiendish. But he, too, kept quiet for ever so long. He tried persuasion,
+he tried flattery. Oh, it was loathsome--loathsome! And then quite
+suddenly he turned savage, and--and threatened me."
+
+She glanced nervously into Rivington's face, but it told her nothing. He
+looked merely thoughtful.
+
+She went on more quietly.
+
+"That drove me desperate, and I exclaimed, hardly thinking, 'I wouldn't
+marry you if you were the only man in the world--which you are not!'
+'Oh!' he said at once. 'There is another man, is there?' He didn't seem
+to have thought that possible. And I--I was simply clutching at
+straws--I told him 'Yes.' It was a lie, you know--the first deliberate
+lie I think I have ever told since I came to years of discretion. There
+isn't another man, or likely to be. That's just the trouble. If there
+were, my mother wouldn't be so angry with me for refusing this chance of
+marriage, brilliant though she thinks it. But I was quite desperate. Do
+you think it was very wrong of me?"
+
+"No," said Rivington deliberately, "I don't. I lie myself--when
+necessary."
+
+"He was furious," she said. "He swore that no other man should stand in
+his way. And then--I don't know how it was; perhaps I wasn't very
+convincing--he began to suspect that I had lied. That drove me into a
+corner. I didn't know what to say or do. And then, quite suddenly, in my
+extremity, I thought of you. I really don't know what made me. I didn't
+so much as know if you were in town. And in a flash I thought of sending
+that announcement to the paper. That would convince him if nothing else
+would, and it would mean at least a temporary respite. It was a mad
+thing to do, I know. But I thought you were elderly and level-headed and
+a confirmed bachelor and--and a sort of cousin as well----"
+
+"To the tenth degree," murmured Rivington.
+
+"So I told him," she hurried on, unheeding, "that we were engaged, and
+it was just going to be announced. When he heard that, he lost his head.
+I really think he was mad for the moment. He sprang straight at me like
+a wild beast, and I--I simply turned and fled. I'm pretty nimble, you
+know, when--when there are mad bulls about." Her quick smile flashed
+across her face and was gone. "That's all," she said. "I tore up to my
+room, and scribbled that paragraph straight away. I dared not wait for
+anything. And then I wrote to you. You had my letter with the paper this
+morning."
+
+"Yes, I had them." Rivington spoke absently. She had a feeling that his
+eyes were fixed upon her without seeing her. "So that's all, is it?" he
+said slowly.
+
+Again nervously her hands moved beneath his.
+
+"I've been very headlong and idiotic," she said impulsively. "I've put
+you in an intolerable position. You must write at once and contradict it
+in the next issue."
+
+"Do you mind not talking nonsense for a minute?" he said mildly. "I
+shall see my way directly."
+
+She dropped into instant silence, sitting tense and mute, scarcely even
+breathing, while the pale blue eyes opposite remained steadily and
+unblinkingly fixed upon her face.
+
+After a few moments he spoke.
+
+"When does your mother return?"
+
+"To-morrow morning." She hesitated for a second; then, "Of course she
+will be furious," she said. "You won't be able to argue with her. No one
+can."
+
+Rivington's eyes looked faintly quizzical.
+
+"I don't propose to try," he said. "She is, as I well know, an adept in
+the gentle art of snubbing. And I am no match for her there. She has,
+moreover, a rooted objection to poor relations, for which I can hardly
+blame her--a prejudice which, however, I am pleased to note that you do
+not share."
+
+He smiled at her with the words, and she flashed him a quick, answering
+smile, though her lips were quivering.
+
+"I am not a bit like my mother," she said. "I was always dad's
+girl--while he lived. It was he who called me Chirpy. No one else ever
+did--but you."
+
+"A great piece of presumption on my part," said Rivington.
+
+"No. I like you to. It makes you seem like an old friend, which is what
+I need just now, more than anything."
+
+"Quite so," said Rivington. "That qualifies me to advise, I suppose. I
+hope you won't be shocked at what I am going to suggest."
+
+She met his eyes with complete confidence. "I shall do it whatever it
+is," she said.
+
+"Don't be rash," he rejoined. "It entails a sacrifice. But it is the
+only thing that occurs to me for the moment. I think if you are wise you
+will leave London to-night."
+
+"Leave London!" she echoed, looking startled.
+
+"Yes. Just drop out for a bit, cut everything, and give this business a
+chance to blow over. Leave a note behind for mamma when she arrives, and
+tell her why. She'll understand."
+
+"But--but--how can I? Dinghra will only follow me, and I shall be more
+at his mercy than ever in the country."
+
+"If he finds you," said Rivington.
+
+"But mother would tell him directly where to look."
+
+"If she knew herself," he returned drily.
+
+"Oh!" She stared at him with eyes of grave doubt. "But," she said, after
+a moment, "I have no money. I can't live on nothing."
+
+"I do," said Rivington. "You can do the same."
+
+She shook her head instantly, though she smiled.
+
+"Not on the same nothing, Mr. Rivington."
+
+He took his hand abruptly from hers.
+
+"Look here, Chirpy," he said; "don't be a snob!"
+
+"I'm not," she protested.
+
+"Yes, you are. It's atrocious to be put in my place by a chit like you.
+I won't put up with it." He frowned at her ferociously. "You weren't
+above asking my help, but if you are above taking it--I've done with
+you."
+
+"Oh, not really!" she pleaded. "It was foolish of me, I admit, because
+you really are one of the family. Please don't scowl so. It doesn't suit
+your style of beauty in the least, and I am sure you wouldn't like to
+spoil a good impression."
+
+But he continued to frown uncompromisingly, till she stretched out a
+conciliatory hand to him across the table.
+
+"Don't be cross, Knight Errant! I know you are only pretending."
+
+"Then don't do it again," he said, relaxing, and pinching her fingers
+somewhat heartlessly. "I'm horribly sensitive on some points. As I was
+saying, it won't hurt you very badly to live on nothing for a bit, even
+if you are a lady of extravagant tastes."
+
+"Oh, but I can work," she said eagerly. "I can change my name, and go
+into a shop."
+
+"Of course," he said, mildly sarcastic. "You will doubtless find your
+vocation sooner or later. But that is not the present point. Now,
+listen! In the county of Hampshire is a little place called
+Weatherbroom--quite a little place, just a hamlet and a post-office.
+Just out of the hamlet is a mill with a few acres of farm land attached.
+It's awfully picturesque--a regular artists' place. By the way, are you
+an artist?"
+
+"Oh, no. I sketch a little, but----"
+
+"That'll do. You are not an artist, but you sketch. Then you won't be
+quite stranded. It's very quiet, you know. There's no society. Only the
+miller and his wife, and now and then the landlord--an out-at-elbows
+loafer who drifts about town and, very occasionally, plays knight errant
+to ladies in distress. There isn't even a curate. Can you possibly
+endure it?"
+
+She raised her head and laughed--a sweet, spontaneous laugh,
+inexpressibly gay.
+
+"Oh, you are good--just good! It's the only word that describes you. I
+always felt you were. I didn't know you were a landed proprietor,
+though."
+
+"In a very small way," he assured her.
+
+"How nice!" she said eagerly. "Yes, I'll go. I shall love it. But"--her
+face falling--"what of you? Shall you stay in town?"
+
+"And face the music," said the Poor Relation, with his most benign
+smile. "That is my intention. Don't pity me! I shall enjoy it."
+
+"Is it possible?" Again she looked doubtful.
+
+"Of course it's possible. I enjoy a good row now and then. It keeps me
+in condition. I'll come down and see you some day, and tell you all
+about it." He glanced at his watch. "I think we ought to be moving. We
+will discuss arrangements as we go. I must send a wire to Mrs. Perkiss,
+and tell her you will go down by the seven-thirty. I will see you into
+the train at this end, and they will meet you at the other with the
+cart. It's three miles from the railway."
+
+As they passed out together, he added meditatively, "I think you'll like
+the old mill, Chirpy. It's thatched."
+
+"I'm sure I shall," she answered earnestly.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THE KNIGHT ERRANT TAKES THE FIELD
+
+
+Rivington returned to his rooms that night, after dining at a
+restaurant, with a pleasing sense of having accomplished something that
+had been well worth the doing. He chuckled to himself a little as he
+walked. It was a decidedly humorous situation.
+
+He was met at the top of the stairs by his servant, a sharp-faced lad of
+fifteen whom he had picked out of the dock of a police-court some months
+before, and who was devoted to him in consequence.
+
+"There's a gentleman waitin' for you sir; wouldn't take 'No' for an
+answer; been 'ere best part of an hour. Name of Sin, sir. Looks like a
+foreigner."
+
+"Eh?" The blue eyes widened for a moment, then smiled approbation. "Very
+appropriate," murmured Rivington. "All right, Tommy; I know the
+gentleman."
+
+He was still smiling as he entered his room.
+
+A slim, dark man turned swiftly from its farther end to meet him. He had
+obviously been prowling up and down.
+
+"Mr. Rivington?" he said interrogatively.
+
+Rivington bowed.
+
+"Mr. Dinghra Singh?" he returned.
+
+"Have you seen me before?"
+
+"At a distance--several times."
+
+"Ah!" The Indian drew himself up with a certain arrogance, but his
+narrow black moustache did not hide the fact that his lips were
+twitching with excitement. His dark eyes shone like the eyes of a beast,
+green and ominous. "But we have never spoken. I thought not. Now, Mr.
+Rivington, will you permit me to come at once to business?"
+
+He spoke without a trace of foreign accent. He stood in the middle of
+the room, facing Rivington, in a commanding attitude.
+
+Rivington took a seat on the edge of the table. He was still faintly
+smiling.
+
+"Go ahead, sir," he said. "Won't you sit down?"
+
+But Dinghra preferred to stand.
+
+"I am presuming that you are the Mr. Cecil Mordaunt Rivington whose
+engagement to Miss Ernestine Cardwell was announced in this morning's
+paper," he said, speaking quickly but very distinctly.
+
+"The same," said Rivington. He added with a shrug of the shoulders, "A
+somewhat high-sounding name for such a humble citizen as myself, but it
+was not of my own choosing."
+
+Dinghra ignored the remark. He was very plainly in no mood for
+trivialities.
+
+"And the engagement really exists?" he questioned.
+
+The Englishman's brows went up.
+
+"Of course it exists."
+
+"Ah!" It was like a snarl. The white teeth gleamed for a moment. "I had
+no idea," Dinghra said, still with the same feverish rapidity, "that I
+had a rival."
+
+"Are we rivals?" said Rivington, amiably regretful. "It's the first I
+have heard of it."
+
+"You must have known!" The green glare suddenly began to flicker with a
+ruddy tinge as of flame. "Every one knew that I was after her."
+
+"Oh yes, I knew that," said Rivington. "But--pardon me if I fail to see
+that that fact constitutes any rivalry between us. We were engaged long
+before she met you. We have been engaged for years."
+
+"For years!" Dinghra took a sudden step forward. He looked as if he were
+about to spring at the Englishman's throat.
+
+But Rivington remained quite unmoved, all unsuspecting, lounging on the
+edge of the table.
+
+"Yes, for years," he repeated. "But we have kept it to ourselves till
+now. Even Lady Florence had no notion of it. There was nothing to be
+gained by talking. It was a case of--" He dug his hands into his
+trousers pockets and pulled them inside out with an eloquent gesture.
+"So, of course, there was nothing for it but to wait."
+
+"Then why have you published the engagement now?" demanded Dinghra.
+
+Rivington smiled.
+
+"Because we are tired of waiting," he said.
+
+"You are in a position to marry, then? You are--"
+
+"I am as poor as a church mouse, if you want to know," said Rivington.
+
+"And you will marry on nothing?"
+
+"I dare say we sha'n't starve," said Rivington optimistically.
+
+"Ah!" Again that beast-like snarl. There was no green glare left in the
+watching eyes--only red, leaping flame. "And--you like poverty?" asked
+the Indian in the tone of one seeking information.
+
+"I detest it," said Rivington, with unusual energy.
+
+Dinghra drew a step nearer, noiselessly, like a cat. His lips began to
+smile. He could not have been aware of the tigerish ferocity of his
+eyes.
+
+"I should like to make a bargain with you, Mr. Rivington," he said.
+
+Rivington, his hands in his pockets, looked him over with a cool
+appraising eye. He said nothing at all.
+
+"This girl," said Dinghra, his voice suddenly very soft and persuasive,
+"she is worth a good deal to you--doubtless?"
+
+"Doubtless," said Rivington.
+
+"She is worth--what?"
+
+Rivington stared uncomprehendingly.
+
+With a slight, contemptuous gesture the Indian proceeded to explain.
+
+"She is worth a good deal to me too--more than you would think. Her
+mother also desires a marriage between us. I am asking you, Mr.
+Rivington, to give her up, and to--name your price."
+
+"The devil you are!" said Rivington; but he said it without violence. He
+still sat motionless, his hands in his pockets, surveying his visitor.
+
+"I am rich," Dinghra said, still in those purring accents. "I am
+prepared to make you a wealthy man for the rest of your life. You will
+be able to marry, if you desire to do so, and live in ease and luxury.
+Come, Mr. Rivington, what do you say to it? You detest poverty. Now is
+your chance, then. You need never be poor again."
+
+"You're uncommonly generous," said Rivington. "But is the lady to have
+no say in the matter? Or has she already spoken?"
+
+Dinghra looked supremely contemptuous.
+
+"The matter is entirely between you and me," he said.
+
+"Oh!" Rivington became reflective.
+
+The Indian crossed his arms and waited.
+
+"Well," Rivington said at length, "I will name my price, since you
+desire it, but I warn you it's a fairly stiff one. You won't like it."
+
+"Speak!" said Dinghra eagerly. His eyes literally blazed at the
+Englishman's imperturbable face.
+
+Slowly Rivington took his hands from his pockets. Slowly he rose. For a
+moment he seemed to tower almost threateningly over the lesser man, then
+carelessly he suffered his limbs to relax.
+
+"The price," he said, "is that you come to me every day for a fortnight
+for as sound a licking as I am in a condition to administer. I will
+release Miss Ernestine Cardwell for that, and that alone." He paused.
+"And I think at the end of my treatment that you will stand a
+considerably better chance of winning her favour than you do at
+present," he added, faintly smiling.
+
+An awful silence followed his words. Dinghra stood as though transfixed
+for the space of twenty seconds. Then, without word or warning of any
+sort, with a single spring inexpressibly bestial, he leapt at
+Rivington's throat.
+
+But Rivington was ready for him. With incredible swiftness he stooped
+and caught his assailant as he sprang. There followed a brief and
+furious struggle, and then the Indian found himself slowly but
+irresistibly forced backwards across the Englishman's knee. He had a
+vision of pale blue eyes that were too grimly ironical to be angry, and
+the next moment he was sitting on the floor, two muscular hands holding
+him down.
+
+"Not to-night," said the leisurely voice above him. "To-morrow, if you
+like, we will begin the cure. Go home now and think it over."
+
+And with that he was free. But he sat for a second too infuriated to
+speak or move. Then, like lightning, he was on his feet.
+
+They stood face to face for an interval that was too pregnant with
+fierce mental strife to be timed by seconds. Then, with clenched hands,
+in utter silence, Dinghra turned away. He went softly, with a gliding,
+beast-like motion to the door, paused an instant, looked back with the
+gleaming eyes of a devil--and was gone.
+
+The Poor Relation threw himself into a chair and laughed very softly,
+his lower lip gripped fast between his teeth.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE KNIGHT ERRANT'S STRATEGY
+
+
+It was summer in Weatherbroom--the glareless, perfect summer of the
+country, of trees in their first verdure, of seas of bracken all in
+freshest green, of shining golden gorse, of babbling, clear brown
+streams, of birds that sang and chattered all day long.
+
+And in the midst of this paradise Ernestine Cardwell dwelt secure. There
+was literally not a soul to speak to besides the miller and his wife,
+but this absence of human companionship had not begun to pall upon her.
+She was completely and serenely happy.
+
+She spent the greater part of her days wandering about the woods and
+commons with a book tucked under her arm which she seldom opened. Now
+and then she tried to sketch, but usually abandoned the attempt in a fit
+of impatience. How could she hope to reproduce, even faintly, the
+loveliness around her? It seemed presumption almost to try, and she
+revelled in idleness instead. The singing of the birds had somehow got
+into her heart. She could listen to that music for hours together.
+
+Or else she would wander along the mill-stream with the roar of the
+racing water behind her, and gather great handfuls of the wild flowers
+that fringed its banks. These were usually her evening strolls, and she
+loved none better.
+
+Once, exploring around the mill, she entered a barn, and found there an
+old caravan that once had been gaily painted and now stood in all the
+shabbiness of departed glory. She had the curiosity to investigate its
+interior, and found there a miniature bedroom neatly furnished.
+
+"That's Mr. Rivington's," the miller's wife told her. "He will often run
+down to fish in the summer, and then he likes it pulled out into the bit
+of wood yonder by the water, and spends the night there. It's a funny
+fancy, I often think."
+
+"I should love it," said Ernestine.
+
+She wrote to Rivington that night, her second letter since her arrival,
+and told him of her discovery. She added, "When are you coming down
+again? There are plenty of trout in the stream." And she posted the
+letter herself at the little thatched post-office, with a small,
+strictly private smile. Oh, no, she wasn't bored, of course! But it
+would be rather fun if he came.
+
+On the evening of the following day, she was returning from her
+customary stroll along the stream, when she spied a water-lily, yellow
+and splendid, floating, as is the invariable custom of these flowers,
+just out of reach from the bank. She made several attempts to secure it,
+each failure only serving to increase her determination. Finally, the
+evening being still and warm, and her desire for the pretty thing not to
+be denied, she slipped off shoes and stockings and slid cautiously into
+the stream. It bubbled deliciously round her ankles, sending exquisite
+cold thrills through and through her. She secured her prize, and gave
+herself up unreservedly to the enjoyment thereof.
+
+An unmistakable whiff of tobacco-smoke awoke her from her dream of
+delight. She turned swiftly, the lily in one hand, her skirt clutched in
+the other.
+
+"Don't be alarmed," said a quiet, casual voice. "It's only me."
+
+"Only you!" she echoed, blushing crimson. "I wasn't expecting anyone
+just now."
+
+"Oh, but I don't count," he said. He was standing on the bank above her,
+looking down upon her with eyes so kindly that she found it impossible
+to be vexed with him, or even embarrassed after that first moment.
+
+She reached up her hand to him.
+
+"I'm coming out."
+
+He took the small wrist, and helped her ashore. She looked up at him and
+laughed.
+
+"I'm glad you've come," she said simply.
+
+"Thank you," he returned, equally simply. "How are you getting on?"
+
+"Oh, beautifully! I'm as happy as the day is long."
+
+She began to rub her bare feet in the grass.
+
+"Have my handkerchief," he suggested.
+
+She accepted it with a smile, and sat down.
+
+"Tell me about everything," she said.
+
+Rivington sat down also, and took a long, luxurious pull at the briar
+pipe.
+
+"Things were quite lively for a day or two after you left," he said.
+"But they have settled down again. Still, I don't advise you to go back
+again at present."
+
+"Oh, I'm not going," she said. "I am much happier here. I saw a squirrel
+this morning. I wanted to kiss it dreadfully, but," with a sigh, "it
+didn't understand."
+
+"The squirrel's loss," observed Rivington.
+
+She crumpled his handkerchief into a ball, and tossed it at him.
+
+"Of course. But as it will never know what it has missed, it doesn't so
+much matter. Are you going to live in the caravan? I'll bring you your
+supper if you are."
+
+"That's awfully good of you," he said.
+
+"Oh, no, it isn't. I want to. I shall bring my own as well and eat it on
+the step."
+
+"Better and better!" said Rivington.
+
+She laughed her own peculiarly light-hearted laugh.
+
+"I've a good mind to turn you out and sleep there myself. I'm longing to
+know what it feels like."
+
+"You can if you want to," he said.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"I daren't, by myself."
+
+"I'll have my kennel underneath," he suggested.
+
+But she shook her head again, though she still laughed.
+
+"No, I mustn't. What would Mrs. Perkiss say? She has a very high opinion
+of me at present."
+
+"Who hasn't?" said Rivington.
+
+She raised her eyes suddenly and gave him a straight, serious look.
+
+"Are you trying to be complimentary, Knight Errant? Because--don't!"
+
+Rivington blew a cloud of smoke into the air.
+
+"Shouldn't dream of it," he said imperturbably. "I am fully aware that
+poor relations mustn't presume on their privileges."
+
+She coloured a little, and gave her whole attention to fastening her
+shoe-lace.
+
+"I didn't mean that," she said, after a moment. "Only--don't think I
+care for that sort of thing, for, candidly, I don't."
+
+"You needn't be afraid," he answered gravely. "I shall never say
+anything to you that I don't mean."
+
+She glanced up again with her quick smile.
+
+"Is it a bargain?" she said.
+
+He held out his hand to her.
+
+"All right, Chirpy, a bargain," he said.
+
+And they sealed it with a warm grip of mutual appreciation.
+
+"Now tell me what everybody has been saying about me," she said, getting
+to her feet.
+
+He smiled as he leisurely arose.
+
+"To begin with," he said, "I've seen mamma."
+
+She looked up at him sharply.
+
+"Go on! Wasn't she furious?"
+
+"My dear child, that is but a mild term. She was cold as the nether
+mill-stone. I am afraid there isn't much chance for us if we persist in
+our folly."
+
+"Don't be absurd! Tell me everything. Has that announcement been
+contradicted?"
+
+"Once," said Rivington. "But it has been inserted three times since
+then."
+
+"Oh, but you didn't----"
+
+"Yes, but I did. It was necessary. I think everyone is now convinced of
+our engagement, including Lady Florence."
+
+Ernestine laughed a little, in spite of herself.
+
+"I can't think what the end of it will be," she said, with a touch of
+uneasiness.
+
+"Wait till we get there," said Rivington.
+
+She threw him a glance, half merry and half shy.
+
+"Did you tell mother where I was?"
+
+"On the contrary," said Rivington, "I implored her to tell me."
+
+She drew a sharp breath.
+
+"That was very ingenious of you."
+
+"So I thought," he rejoined modestly.
+
+"And what did she say?"
+
+"She said with scarcely a pause that she had sent you out of town to
+give you time to come to your senses, and it was quite futile for me to
+question her, as she had not the faintest intention of revealing your
+whereabouts."
+
+Ernestine breathed again.
+
+"I said in the note I left behind for her that she wasn't to worry about
+me. I had gone into the country to get away from my troubles."
+
+"That was ingenious, too," he commented. "I think, if you ask me, that
+we have come out of the affair rather well."
+
+"We have all been remarkably subtle," she said, with a sigh. "But I
+don't like subtlety, you know. It's very horrid, and it frightens me
+rather."
+
+"What are you afraid of?" he said.
+
+"I don't know. I think I am afraid of going too far and not being able
+to get back."
+
+"Do you want to get back?" he asked.
+
+"No, no, of course not. At least, not yet," she assured him.
+
+"Then, my dear," he said, "I think, if you will allow me to say so, that
+you are disquieting yourself in vain."
+
+He spoke very kindly, with a gentleness that was infinitely reassuring.
+
+With an impulsive movement of complete confidence, she slipped her hand
+through his arm.
+
+"Thank you, Knight Errant," she said. "I wanted that."
+
+She did not ask him anything about Dinghra, and he wondered a little at
+her forbearance.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+HIS INSPIRATION
+
+
+The days of Rivington's sojourn slipped by with exceeding smoothness.
+They did a little fishing and a good deal of quiet lazing, a little
+exploring, and even one or two long, all-day rambles.
+
+And then one day, to Ernestine's amazement, Rivington took her
+sketching-block from her and began to sketch. He worked rapidly and
+quite silently for about an hour, smoking furiously the while, and
+finally laid before her the completed sketch.
+
+She stared at it in astonishment.
+
+"I had no idea you were a genius. Why, it's lovely!"
+
+He smiled a little.
+
+"I did it for a living once, before my father died and left me enough to
+buy me bread and cheese. I became a loafer then, and I've been one ever
+since."
+
+"But what a pity!" she exclaimed.
+
+His smile broadened.
+
+"It is, isn't it? But where's the sense of working when you've nothing
+to work for? No, it isn't the work of a genius. It's the work of a man
+who might do something good if he had the incentive for it, but not
+otherwise."
+
+"What a pity!" she said again. "Why don't you take to it again?"
+
+"I might," he said, "if I found it worth while."
+
+He tapped the ashes from his pipe and settled himself at full length.
+
+"Surely it is worth while!" she protested. "Why, you might make quite a
+lot of money."
+
+Rivington stuck the empty pipe between his teeth and pulled at it
+absently.
+
+"I'm not particularly keen on money," he said.
+
+"But it's such a waste," she argued. "Oh, I wish I had your talent. I
+would never let it lie idle."
+
+"It isn't my fault," he said; "I am waiting for an inspiration."
+
+"What do you mean by an inspiration?"
+
+He turned lazily upon his side and looked at her.
+
+"Let us say, for instance, if some nice little woman ever cared to marry
+me," he said.
+
+There fell a sudden silence. Ernestine was studying his sketch with her
+head on one side. At length, "You will never marry," she said, in a tone
+of conviction.
+
+"Probably not," agreed Rivington.
+
+He lay still for a few seconds, then sat up slowly and removed his pipe
+to peer over her shoulder.
+
+"It isn't bad," he said critically.
+
+She flashed him a sudden smile.
+
+"Do take it up again!" she pleaded. "It's really wicked of you to go and
+bury a talent like that."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I can't sketch just to please myself. It isn't in me."
+
+"Do it to please me, then," she said impulsively.
+
+He smiled into her eyes.
+
+"Would it please you, Chirpy?"
+
+Her eyes met his with absolute candour.
+
+"Immensely," she said. "Immensely! You know it would."
+
+He held out his hand for the sketch.
+
+"All right, then. You shall be my inspiration."
+
+She laughed lightly.
+
+"Till that nice little woman turns up."
+
+"Exactly," said Rivington.
+
+He continued to hold out his hand, but she withheld the sketch.
+
+"I'm going to keep it, if you don't mind."
+
+"What for?" he said.
+
+"Because I like it. I want it. Why shouldn't I?"
+
+"I will do you something better worth having than that," he said.
+
+"Something I shouldn't like half so well," she returned. "No, I'm going
+to keep this, in memory of a perfect afternoon and some of the happiest
+days of my life."
+
+Rivington gave in, still smiling.
+
+"I'm going back to town to-morrow," he said.
+
+"Oh, are you?" Actual dismay sounded in her voice. "Why?"
+
+"I'm afraid I must," he said. "I'm sorry. Shall you be lonely?"
+
+"Oh, no," she rejoined briskly. "Of course not. I wasn't lonely before
+you came." She added rather wistfully, "It was good of you to stay so
+long; I hope you haven't been very bored?"
+
+"Not a bit," said Rivington. "I've only been afraid of boring you."
+
+She laughed a little. A certain constraint seemed to have fallen upon
+her.
+
+"How horribly polite we are getting!" she said.
+
+He laid his hand for an instant on her shoulder.
+
+"I shall come again, Chirpy," he said.
+
+She nodded carelessly, not looking at him.
+
+"Yes, mind you do. I dare say I shan't be having any other visitors at
+present."
+
+But though her manner was perfectly friendly, Rivington was conscious of
+that unwonted constraint during the rest of his visit. He even fancied
+on the morrow that she bade him farewell with relief.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE MEETING IN THE MARKET-PLACE
+
+
+Two days later, Ernestine drove with the miller's wife to market at
+Rington, five miles distant. She had never seen a country market, and
+her interest was keen. They started after an early breakfast on an
+exquisite summer morning. And Ernestine carried with her a letter which
+she had that day received from Rivington.
+
+"Dear Chirpy," it ran, "I hasten to write and tell you that now I am
+back in town again I am most hideously bored. I am, however, negotiating
+for a studio, which fact ought to earn for me your valued approval. If,
+for any reason, my presence should seem desirable to you, write or wire,
+and I shall come immediately.--Your devoted
+
+"KNIGHT ERRANT."
+
+Ernestine squeezed this letter a good many times on the way to Rington.
+She had certainly been feeling somewhat forlorn since his departure.
+But, this fact notwithstanding, she had no intention of writing or
+wiring to him at present. Still, it was nice to know he would come.
+
+They reached the old country town, and found it crammed with market
+folk. The whole place hummed with people. Ernestine's first view of the
+market-place filled her with amazement. The lowing of cattle, the
+bleating of sheep, and the yelling of men combined to make such a
+confusion of sound that she felt bewildered, even awestruck.
+
+Mrs. Perkiss went straight to the oldest inn in the place and put up the
+cart. She was there to buy, not to sell.
+
+Ernestine kept with her for the first hour, then, growing weary of the
+hubbub, wandered away from the market to explore the old town. She sat
+for a while in the churchyard, and there, to enliven her solitude,
+re-read that letter of Rivington's. Was he really taking up art again to
+please her? He had been very energetic. She wondered, smiling, how long
+his energy would last.
+
+Thus engaged the time passed quickly, and she presently awoke from a
+deep reverie to find that the hour Mrs. Perkiss had appointed for lunch
+at the inn was approaching. She rose, and began to make her way thither.
+
+The street was crowded, and her progress was slow. A motor was threading
+its way through the throng at a snail's pace. The persistence of its
+horn attracted her attention. As it neared her she glanced at its
+occupant.
+
+The next moment she was shrinking back into a doorway, white to the
+lips. The man in the car was Dinghra.
+
+Across the crowded pavement his eyes sought hers, and the wicked triumph
+in them turned her cold. He made no sign of recognition, and she seemed
+as though petrified till the motor had slowly passed.
+
+Then a great weakness came over her, and for a few seconds all
+consciousness of her surroundings went from her. She remembered only
+those evil eyes and the gloating satisfaction with which they had rested
+upon her.
+
+"Ain't you well, miss?" said a voice.
+
+With a start she found a burly young farmer beside her. He looked down
+at her with kindly concern.
+
+"You take my arm," he said. "Which way do you want to go?"
+
+With an effort she told him, and the next moment he was leading her
+rapidly through the crowd.
+
+They reached the inn, and he put her into the bar parlour and went out,
+bellowing for Mrs. Perkiss, whom he knew.
+
+When he finally emerged, after finding the miller's wife, a slim, dark
+man was waiting on the further side of the road. The farmer took no note
+of him, but the watcher saw the farmer, and with swift, cat-like tread
+he followed him.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+IN FEAR OF THE ENEMY
+
+
+All the way home the memory of those eyes haunted Ernestine. All the way
+home her ears were straining to catch the hoot of a motor-horn and the
+rush of wheels behind them.
+
+But no motor overtook them. Nothing happened to disturb the smiling
+peace of that summer afternoon.
+
+Back in her little room under the thatch she flung herself face
+downwards on the bed, and lay tense. What should she do? What should she
+do? He had seen her. He was on her track. Sooner or later he would run
+her to earth. And she--what could she do?
+
+For a long while she lay there, too horror-stricken to move, while over
+and over again there passed through her aching brain the memory of those
+eyes. Did he guess that she had come there to hide from him? Had he been
+hunting her for long?
+
+She moved at length, sat up stiffly, and felt something crackle inside
+her dress. With a little start she realised what it was, and drew forth
+Rivington's letter.
+
+A great sigh broke from her as she opened and read it once again.
+
+A little later she ran swiftly downstairs with a folded paper in her
+hand. Out into the blinding sunshine, bareheaded, she ran, never pausing
+till she turned into the lily-decked garden of the post-office.
+
+She was trembling all over as she handed in her message, but as it
+ticked away a sensation of immense relief stole over her. She went out
+again feeling almost calm.
+
+But that night her terrors came back upon her in ghastly array. She
+could not sleep, and lay listening to every sound. Finally she fell into
+an uneasy doze, from which she started to hear the dog in the yard
+barking furiously. She lay shivering for a while, then crept to her
+window and looked out. The dense shadow of a pine wood across the road
+blotted out the starlight, and all was very dark. It was impossible to
+discern anything. She stood listening intently in the darkness.
+
+The dog subsided into a growling monotone, and through the stillness she
+fancied she caught a faint sound, as if some animal were prowling softly
+under the trees. She listened with a thumping heart. Nearer it seemed to
+come, and nearer, and then she heard it no more. A sudden gust stirred
+the pine tops, and a sudden, overmastering panic filled her soul.
+
+With the violence of frenzy she slammed and bolted her window, and made
+a wild spring back to the bed. She burrowed down under the blankets, and
+lay there huddled, not daring to stir for a long, long time.
+
+With the first glimmer of day came relief, but she did not sleep. The
+night's terror had left her nerves too shaken for repose. Yet as the sun
+rose and the farmyard sounds began, as she heard the mill-wheel creak
+and turn and the rush and roar of the water below, common sense came to
+her aid, and she was able to tell herself that her night alarm might
+have been due to nothing more than her own startled imagination.
+
+On the breakfast table she found a card awaiting her, which she seized,
+and read with deepening colour.
+
+"Expect me by the afternoon train. I shall walk from the station.--K.E."
+
+A feeling of gladness, so intense that it was almost rapture, made her
+blood flow faster. He was coming in answer to her desperate summons. He
+would be with her that very day. She was sure that he would tell her
+what to do.
+
+She read the card several times in the course of the morning, and came
+to the conclusion that it would be only nice of her to walk to meet him.
+The path lay through beech woods. She had gone part of the way with him
+only three days before. Only three days! It seemed like months. She
+looked forward to meeting him again as though he had been an old friend.
+
+She started soon after the early dinner. The afternoon was hot and
+sultry. She was glad to turn from the road into the shade and stillness
+of the woods. The sun-rays slanting downwards through the mazy, golden
+aisles made her think of the afternoon on which she had waited for him
+under the dome of St. Paul's.
+
+The heat as she proceeded became intense. The humming of many insects
+filled the air with a persistent drone. It was summer at its height.
+
+A heavy languor began to possess her. She remembered that she had not
+slept all the previous night. She also recalled the panic that had kept
+her awake, and smiled faintly to herself. She did not feel afraid now
+that Rivington was coming. She even began to think she had been rather
+foolish, and wondered if he would think so too.
+
+She began to go more slowly. Her feet felt heavier at every step. A few
+yards ahead a golden-brown stream ran babbling through the wood. It was
+close to the path. She would sit down beside it and rest till he
+arrived.
+
+She reached the stream, sank down upon a bed of moss, then found the
+heat intolerable, and began impulsively to loosen her shoes. What if he
+did discover her a second time barefooted? He had not minded before;
+neither had she. And no one else would come that way. He had even lent
+her his handkerchief to dry her feet. Perhaps he would again.
+
+Once more a strictly private little smile twitched the corners of her
+mouth. She slipped off her stockings and plunged her tired feet into the
+cool, running water.
+
+Leaning back against a tree-trunk she closed her eyes. An exquisite
+sense of well-being stole over her. He would not be here yet. What did
+it matter if she dozed? The bubbling of the water lulled her. She rested
+her feet upon a sunny brown stone. She turned her cheek upon her arm.
+
+And in her sleep she heard the thudding of a horse's hoofs, and dreamed
+that her knight errant was close at hand.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE TIGER'S PREY
+
+
+With a start she opened her eyes. Some one was drawing near. It must be
+later than she had thought.
+
+Again she heard the tramp of a horse's feet, and hastily peered round
+the trunk of her tree. Surely he had not come on horseback! It must be a
+stranger. She cast a hasty glance towards her shoes, and gathered her
+feet under her.
+
+A few yards away she caught sight of a horse's clean limbs moving in the
+checkered sunlight. Its rider--her heart gave a sudden, sickening throb
+and stood still. He was riding like a king, with his insolent dark face
+turned to the sun. She stared at him for one wild moment, then shrank
+against her tree. It was possible, it was possible even then, that he
+might pass her by without turning his eyes in her direction.
+
+Nearer he came, and nearer yet. The path wound immediately behind the
+beech tree that sheltered her. He was close to her now. He had reached
+her. She cowered down in breathless terror in the moss, motionless as a
+stone. On went the horse's feet, on without a pause, slow and regular as
+the beat of a drum. He went by her at a walking pace. Surely he had not
+seen her!
+
+She did not dare to lift her head, but it seemed to her that the sound
+of the thudding hoofs died very quickly away. For seconds that seemed
+like hours she crouched there in the afternoon stillness. Then at
+last--at last--she ventured to raise herself--to turn and look.
+
+And in that moment she knew the agony that pierces every nerve with a
+physical anguish in the face of sudden horror. For there, close to her,
+was Dinghra, on foot, not six paces away, and drawing softly nearer.
+There was a faint smile on his face. His eyes were fixed and devilish.
+
+With a gasp she sprang up, and the next moment was running wildly away,
+away, down the forest path, heedless of the rough ground, of the stones
+and roots that tore her bare feet, running like a mad creature, with
+sobbing breath, and limbs that staggered, compel them though she might.
+
+She did not run far. Her flight ended as suddenly as it had begun in a
+violent, headlong fall. A long streamer of bramble had tripped her
+unaccustomed feet. She was conscious for an instant of the horrible pain
+of it as she was flung forward on her hands.
+
+And then came the touch that she dreaded, the sinewy hands lifting her,
+the sinister face looking into hers.
+
+"You should never run away from destiny," said Dinghra softly. "Destiny
+can always catch you up."
+
+She gasped and shuddered. She was shaking all over, too crushed, too
+shattered, for speech.
+
+He set her on her feet.
+
+"We will go back," he said, keeping his arm about her. "You have had a
+pleasant sleep? I am sorry you awoke so soon."
+
+But she stood still, her wild eyes searching the forest depths.
+
+"Oh, let me go!" she cried out suddenly. "Oh, do let me go!"
+
+His arm tightened, but still he smiled.
+
+"Never again. I have had some trouble to find you, but you are mine now
+for ever--or at least"--and the snarl of the beast was in his
+voice--"for as long as I want you."
+
+She resisted him, striving to escape that ever-tightening arm.
+
+"No!" she cried in an agony. "No! No! No!"
+
+His hold became a vice-like grip. Without a word he forced her back with
+him along the way she had come. She limped as she went, and he noted it
+with a terrible smile.
+
+"It would have been better if you hadn't run away," he said.
+
+"Oh, do let me go!" she begged again through her white lips. "Why do you
+persecute me like this? I have never done you any harm."
+
+"Except laugh at me," he answered. "But you will never do that again, at
+least."
+
+And then, finding her weight upon him, he stopped and lifted her in his
+arms.
+
+She covered her face with her hands, and he laughed above her head.
+
+"It is a dangerous amusement," he said, "to laugh at Dinghra. There are
+not many who dare. There is not one who goes unpunished."
+
+He bore her back to her resting-place. He set her on her feet and drew
+her hands away, holding her firmly by the wrists.
+
+"Now tell me," he said "it is the last time I shall ever ask you--will
+you marry me?"
+
+"Never!" she cried.
+
+"Be careful!" he broke in warningly. "That is not your answer. Look at
+me! Look into my eyes! Do you think you are wise in giving me such an
+answer as that?"
+
+But she would not meet his eyes. She dared not.
+
+"Listen!" he said. "Your mother has given you to me. She will never
+speak to you again, except as my promised wife. I have sworn to her that
+I will make you accept me. No power on earth can take you from me.
+Ernestine, listen! You are the only woman who ever resisted me, and for
+that I am going to make you what I have never desired to make any woman
+before,--my wife--not my servant; my queen--not my slave. I can give you
+everything under the sun. You will be a princess. You will have wealth,
+jewels such as you have never dreamed of, palaces, servants, honour--"
+
+"And you!" she cried hysterically. "You!"
+
+"Yes, and me," he said. "But you will have me in one form or another
+whatever your choice. You won't get away from me. You may refuse to
+marry me, but----"
+
+"I do!" she burst out wildly. "I do!"
+
+"But--" he said again, very deliberately.
+
+And then, compelled by she knew not what, she lifted her eyes to his.
+And all her life she shrank and shuddered at the dread memory of what
+she saw.
+
+For seconds he did not utter a single word. For seconds his eyes held
+hers, arresting, piercing, devouring. She could not escape them. She was
+forced to meet them, albeit with fear and loathing unutterable.
+
+"You see!" he said at last, as though concluding an argument. "You are
+mine! I can do with you exactly as I will--exactly as I will!" He
+repeated the words almost in a whisper.
+
+But at that she cried out, and began to struggle, like a bird beating
+its wings against the bars of a cage.
+
+His hold became cruel in an instant. He forced her hands behind her,
+holding her imprisoned in his arms. He tilted her head back. His eyes
+shone down into hers like the eyes of a tiger that clutches its prey. He
+quelled her resistance by sheer brutality.
+
+"I have warned you!" he said; and she knew instinctively that he would
+have no mercy.
+
+"How can I marry you?" she gasped in desperation. "I am engaged
+to--another man!"
+
+She saw his face change. Instantly she knew that she had made a mistake.
+The ferocity in his eyes turned to devilish malice.
+
+"You will marry me yet!" he said.
+
+"But you will come to hate me some day!" she cried, clutching at straws.
+"As--as I hate you to-day!"
+
+His look appalled her, his lips were close to hers.
+
+"If I do," he said, with a fiendish smile, "I shall find a remedy. But
+so long as you hate me, I shall not grow tired of you!"
+
+And with that he suddenly and savagely pressed his lips to hers.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+THE TIGER'S PUNISHMENT
+
+
+That single kiss was to Ernestine the climax and zenith of horror. It
+seemed to sear and blister her very soul with an anguish of repulsion
+that would scar her memory for all time. She retained her consciousness,
+but she never knew by what lightning stroke she was set free. She was
+too dazed, too blinded, by her horror to realise. But suddenly the cruel
+grip that had her helpless was gone. A vague confusion swam before her
+eyes. Her knees doubled under her. She sank down in a huddled heap, and
+lay quivering.
+
+There came to her the sound of struggling, the sound of cursing, the
+sound of blows. But, sick and spent, she heeded none of these things,
+till a certain monotony of sound began to drum itself into her senses.
+She came to full understanding to see Dinghra, in the grip of an
+Englishman, being hideously thrashed with his own horsewhip. He was
+quite powerless in that grip, but he would fight to the end, and it
+seemed that the end was not far off. The punishment must have been going
+on for many seconds. For his face was quite livid and streaked with
+blood, his hands groped blindly, beating the air, he staggered at each
+blow.
+
+The whip fell flail-like, with absolute precision and regularity. It
+spared no part of him. His coat was nearly torn off. In one place, on
+the shoulder, the white shirt was exposed, and this also was streaked
+with blood.
+
+Ernestine crouched under the tree and watched. But very soon a new fear
+sprang up within her, a fear that made her collect all her strength for
+action. It was something in that awful, livid face that prompted her.
+
+She struggled stiffly to her feet, later she wondered how, and drew near
+to the two men. The whirling whip continued to descend, but she had no
+fear of that. She came quite close till she was almost under the
+upraised arm. She laid trembling hands upon a grey tweed coat.
+
+"Let him go!" she said very urgently. "Let him go--while he can!"
+
+Rivington looked down into her white face. He was white himself--white
+to the lips.
+
+"I haven't done with him yet," he said, and he spoke between his teeth.
+
+"I know," she said. "I know. But he has had enough. You mustn't kill
+him."
+
+She was strangely calm, and her calmness took effect. Later, she
+wondered at that also.
+
+Rivington jerked the exhausted man upright.
+
+"Go back!" he said to Ernestine. "Go back! I won't kill him!"
+
+She took him at his word, and went back. She heard Rivington speak
+briefly and sternly, and Dinghra mumbled something in reply. She heard
+the shuffling of feet, and knew that Rivington was helping him to walk.
+
+For a little while she watched the two figures, the one supporting the
+other, as they moved slowly away. Dinghra's head was sunk upon his
+breast. He slunk along like a beaten dog. Then the trunk of a tree hid
+them from her sight.
+
+When that happened, Ernestine suffered herself to collapse upon the
+moss, with her head upon her arms.
+
+Lying thus, she presently heard once more the tread of a horse's feet,
+and counted each footfall mechanically. They grew fainter and fainter,
+till at last the forest silence swallowed them, and a great solitude
+seemed to wrap her round.
+
+Minutes passed. She did not stir. Her strength had gone utterly from
+her. Finally there came the sound of a quiet footfall.
+
+Close to her it came, and stopped.
+
+"Why, Chirpy!" a quiet voice said.
+
+She tried to move, but could not. She was as one paralysed. She could
+not so much as utter a word.
+
+He knelt down beside her and raised her to a sitting posture, so that
+she leaned against him. Holding her so, he gently rubbed her cheek.
+
+"Poor little Chirpy!" he said. "It's all right!"
+
+At sound of the pity and the tenderness of his voice, something seemed
+to break within her, the awful constriction passed. She hid her face
+upon his arm, and burst into a wild agony of weeping.
+
+He laid his hand upon her head, and kept it there for a while; then as
+her sobbing grew more and more violent, he bent over her.
+
+"Don't cry so, child, for Heaven's sake!" he said earnestly. "It's all
+right, dear; all right. You are perfectly safe!"
+
+"I shall never--feel safe--again!" she gasped, between her sobs.
+
+"Yes, yes, you will," he assured her. "You will have me to take care of
+you. I shall not leave you again."
+
+"But the nights!" she cried wildly. "The nights!"
+
+"Hush!" he said. "Hush! There is nothing to cry about. I will take care
+of you at night, too."
+
+She began to grow a little calmer. The assurance of his manner soothed
+her. But for a long time she crouched there shivering, with her face
+hidden, while he knelt beside her and stroked her hair.
+
+At last he moved as though to rise, but on the instant she clutched at
+him with both hands.
+
+"Don't go! Don't leave me! You said you wouldn't!"
+
+"I am not going to, Chirpy," he said. "Don't be afraid!"
+
+But she was afraid, and continued to cling to him very tightly, though
+she would not raise her face.
+
+"Come!" he said gently, at length. "You're better. Wouldn't you like to
+bathe your feet?"
+
+"You will stay with me?" she whispered.
+
+"I am going to help you down to the stream," he said.
+
+"Don't--don't carry me!" she faltered.
+
+"Of course not! You can walk on this moss if I hold you up."
+
+But she was very reluctant to move.
+
+"I--I don't want you to look at me," she said, at last, with a great
+sob. "I feel such a fright."
+
+"Don't be a goose, Chirpy!" he said.
+
+That braced her a little. She dried her tears. She even suffered him to
+raise her to her feet, but she kept her head bent, avoiding his eyes.
+
+"Look where you are going," said Rivington practically. "Here is my arm.
+You mustn't mind me, you know. Lean hard!"
+
+She accepted his assistance in silence. She was crying still, though she
+strove to conceal the fact. But as she sank down once more on the brink
+of the stream, the sobs broke out afresh, and would not be suppressed.
+
+"I was so happy!" she whispered. "I didn't want him here--to spoil my
+paradise."
+
+Rivington said nothing. She did not even know if he heard; and if he
+were aware of her tears he gave no sign. He was gently bathing her torn
+feet with his hands.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+THE KNIGHT ERRANT PLAYS THE GAME
+
+
+She began to command herself at last, and to be inexpressibly ashamed of
+her weakness. She sat in silence, accepting his ministrations, till
+Rivington proceeded to tear his handkerchief into strips for bandaging
+purposes; then she put out a protesting hand.
+
+"You--you shouldn't!" she said rather tremulously.
+
+He looked at her with his kindly smile.
+
+"It's all right, Chirpy. I've got another."
+
+She tried to laugh. It was a valiant effort.
+
+"I know I'm a horrid nuisance to you. It's nice of you to pretend you
+don't mind."
+
+"I never pretend," said Rivington, with a touch of grimness. "Do you
+think you will be able to get your stocking over that?"
+
+"I think so."
+
+"Try!" he said.
+
+She tried and succeeded.
+
+"That's better," said Rivington. "Now for the shoes. I can put them on."
+
+"I don't like you to," she murmured.
+
+"Knights errant always do that," he assured her. "It's part of the game.
+Come! That's splendid! How does it feel?"
+
+"I think I can bear it," she said, under her breath.
+
+He drew it instantly off again.
+
+"No, you can't. Or, at least, you are not going to. Look here, Chirpy,
+my dear, I think you must let me carry you, anyhow to the caravan. It
+isn't far, and I can fetch you some slippers from the mill from there.
+What? You don't mind, do you? An old friend like me, and a poor relation
+into the bargain?" The blue eyes smiled at her quizzically, and very
+persuasively.
+
+But her white face crimsoned, and she turned it aside.
+
+"I don't want you to," she said piteously.
+
+"No, but you'll put up with it!" he urged. "It's too small a thing to
+argue about, and you have too much sense to refuse."
+
+He rose with the words. She looked up at him with quivering lips.
+
+"You wouldn't do it--if I refused?" she faltered.
+
+The smile went out of his eyes.
+
+"I shall never do anything against your will," he said. "But I don't
+know how you will get back if I don't."
+
+She pondered this for a moment, then, impulsively as a child, stretched
+up her arms to him.
+
+"All right, Knight Errant. You may," she said.
+
+And he bent and lifted her without further words.
+
+They scarcely spoke during that journey. Only once, towards the end of
+it, Ernestine asked him if he were tired, and he scouted the idea with a
+laugh.
+
+When they reached the caravan, and he set her down upon the step, she
+thanked him meekly.
+
+"We will have tea," said Rivington, and proceeded to forage for the
+necessaries for this meal in a locker inside the caravan.
+
+He brought out a spirit-lamp and boiled some water. The actual making of
+the tea he relegated to Ernestine.
+
+"A woman does it better than a man," he said.
+
+And while she was thus occupied, he produced cups and saucers, and a tin
+of biscuits, and laid the cloth. Finally, he seated himself on the grass
+below her, and began with evident enjoyment to partake with her of the
+meal thus provided.
+
+When it was over, he washed up, she drying the cups and saucers, and
+striving with somewhat doubtful success to appear normal and
+unconstrained.
+
+"Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked, at the end of this.
+
+"Of course not," she answered, and he brought out the briar pipe
+forthwith.
+
+She watched him fill and light it, her chin upon her hand. She was still
+very pale, and the fear had not gone wholly from her eyes.
+
+"Now I'm going to talk to you," Rivington announced.
+
+"Yes?" she said rather faintly.
+
+He lay back with his arms under his head, and stared up through the
+beech boughs to the cloudless evening sky.
+
+"I want you first of all to remember," he said, "that what I said a
+little while ago I meant--and shall mean for all time. I will never do
+anything, Chirpy, against your will."
+
+He spoke deliberately. He was puffing the smoke upward in long spirals.
+
+"That is quite understood, is it?" he asked, as she did not speak.
+
+"I think so," said Ernestine slowly.
+
+"I want you to be quite sure," he said. "Otherwise, what I am going to
+say may startle you."
+
+"Don't frighten me!" she begged, in a whisper.
+
+"My dear child, I sha'n't frighten you," he rejoined. "You may frighten
+yourself. That is what I am trying to guard against."
+
+Her laugh had a piteous quiver in it.
+
+"You think me very young and foolish, don't you?" she said.
+
+He sat up and looked at her.
+
+"I think," he said, "that you stand in very serious need of someone to
+look after you."
+
+She made a slight, impatient movement.
+
+"Why go over old ground? If you really have any definite suggestion to
+make, why not make it?"
+
+Rivington clasped his hands about his knees. He continued to look at her
+speculatively, his pipe between his teeth.
+
+"Look here, Chirpy," he said, after a moment, "I can't help thinking
+that you would be better off and a good deal happier if you married."
+
+"If I--married!" Her eyes flashed startled interrogation at him. "If
+I--married!" she repeated almost fiercely. "I would rather die!"
+
+"I didn't suggest that you should marry Dinghra," he pointed out mildly.
+"He is not the only man in the world."
+
+The hot colour rushed up over her face.
+
+"He is the only one that ever wanted me," she said, in a muffled tone.
+
+"Quite sure of that?" said Rivington.
+
+She did not answer him. She was playing nervously with a straw that she
+had pulled from the floor of the caravan. Her eyes were downcast.
+
+"What about me?" said Rivington. "Think you could put up with me as a
+husband?"
+
+She shook her head in silence.
+
+"Why not?" he said gently.
+
+Again she shook her head.
+
+He knelt up suddenly beside her, discarding his pipe, and laid his hand
+on hers.
+
+"Tell me why not," he said.
+
+A little tremor went through her at his touch. She did not raise her
+eyes.
+
+"It wouldn't do," she said, her voice very low.
+
+"You don't like me?" he questioned.
+
+"Yes; I like you. It isn't that."
+
+"Then--what is it, Chirpy? I believe you are afraid of me," he said half
+quizzically.
+
+"I'm not!" she declared, with vehemence. "I'm not such a donkey! No,
+Knight Errant, I'm only afraid for you."
+
+"I don't quite grasp your meaning," he said.
+
+With an effort she explained.
+
+"You see, you don't know me very well--not nearly so well as I know
+you."
+
+"I know you well enough to be fond of you, Chirpy," he said.
+
+"That is just because you don't know me," she said, her voice quivering
+a little. "You wouldn't like me for long, Knight Errant. Men never do."
+
+"More fools they," said the knight errant, with somewhat unusual
+emphasis. "It's their loss, anyway."
+
+She laughed a little.
+
+"It's very nice of you to say so, but it doesn't alter the fact.
+Besides--" She paused.
+
+"Besides--" said Rivington.
+
+She looked at him suddenly.
+
+"What about that nice little woman who may turn up some day?"
+
+The humorous corner of Rivington's mouth went up.
+
+"I think she has, Chirpy," he said. "To tell you the honest truth, I've
+been thinking so for some time."
+
+"You really want to marry me?" Ernestine looked him straight in the
+eyes. "It isn't--only--a chivalrous impulse?"
+
+He met her look quite steadily.
+
+"No," he said quietly; "it isn't--only--that."
+
+Her eyes fell away from his.
+
+"I haven't any money, you know," she said.
+
+"Never mind about the money," he answered cheerily. "I have a little,
+enough to keep us from starvation. I can make more. It will do me good
+to work. It's settled, then? You'll have me?"
+
+"If--if you are sure--" she faltered. Then impulsively, "Oh, it's
+hateful to feel that I've thrown myself at your head!"
+
+His hand closed upon hers with a restraining pressure.
+
+"You mustn't say those things to me, Chirpy," he said quietly; "they
+hurt me. Now let me tell you my plans. Do you know what I did when I got
+back to town the other day? I went and bought a special marriage
+licence. You see, I wanted to marry you even then, and I hoped that
+before very long I should persuade you to have me. As soon as I got your
+telegram, I went off and purchased a wedding-ring. I hope it will fit.
+But, anyhow, it will serve our present purpose. Will you drive with me
+into Rington to-morrow and marry me there?"
+
+She was listening to him in wide-eyed amazement.
+
+"So soon?" she said.
+
+"I thought it would save any further trouble," he answered. "But it is
+for you to decide."
+
+"And--and what should we do afterwards?" she asked, stooping to pick up
+her straw that had fallen to the ground.
+
+"That, again, would be for you to decide," he answered. "I would take
+you straight back to your mother if you wished."
+
+She gave a muffled laugh.
+
+"Of course I shouldn't want you to do that."
+
+"Or," proceeded Rivington, "I would hire an animal to draw the caravan,
+and we would go for a holiday in the forest. Would it bore you?"
+
+"I don't think so," she said, without looking at him. "I--I could
+sketch, you know, and you could paint."
+
+"To be sure," he said. "Shall we do that, then?"
+
+She began to split the straw with minute care.
+
+"You think there is no danger of--Dinghra?" she said, after a moment.
+
+Rivington smiled grimly, and got to his feet. "Not the smallest," he
+said.
+
+"He might come back," she persisted. "What if--what if he tried to
+murder you?"
+
+Rivington was coaxing his pipe back to life. He accomplished his object
+before he replied. Then:
+
+"You need not have the faintest fear of that," he said. "Dinghra has had
+the advantage of a public-school education. He has doubtless been
+thrashed before."
+
+"He is vindictive," she objected.
+
+"He may be, but he is shrewd enough to know when the game is up.
+Frankly, Chirpy, I don't think the prospect of pestering you, or even of
+punishing me, will induce him to take the field again after we are
+married. No"--he smiled down at her--"I think I have cooled his ardour
+too effectually for that."
+
+She shuddered.
+
+"I shall never forget it."
+
+He patted her shoulder reassuringly.
+
+"I think you will, Chirpy. Or at least you will place it in the same
+category as the bull incident. You will forget the fright, and remember
+only with kindness the Knight Errant who had the good fortune to pull
+you through."
+
+She reached up and squeezed his hand, still without looking at him.
+
+"I shall always do that," she said softly.
+
+"Then that's settled," said Rivington in a tone of quiet satisfaction.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+THE KNIGHT ERRANT VICTORIOUS
+
+
+"On the 21st of June, quite privately, at the Parish Church, Rington,
+Hampshire, by the Vicar of the Parish, Cecil Mordaunt Rivington to
+Ernestine, fourth daughter of Lady Florence Cardwell."
+
+Cecil Mordaunt Rivington, with his pipe occupying one corner of his
+mouth, and the other cocked at a distinctly humorous angle, sat on the
+step of the caravan on the evening of the day succeeding that of his
+marriage, and read the announcement thereof in the paper which he had
+just fetched from the post-office.
+
+There was considerable complacence in his attitude. A cheerful fire of
+sticks burned near, over which a tripod supported a black pot.
+
+The sunset light filtered golden through the forest. It was growing
+late.
+
+Suddenly he turned and called over his shoulder. "I say, Chirpy!"
+
+Ernestine's voice answered from the further end of the caravan that was
+shut off from the rest by curtains.
+
+"I'm just coming. What is it? Is the pot all right?"
+
+"Splendid. Be quick! I've something to show you."
+
+The curtains parted, and Ernestine came daintily forth.
+
+Rivington barely glanced at her. He was too intent upon the paper in his
+hand. She stopped behind him, and bent to read the paragraph he pointed
+out.
+
+After a pause, he turned to view its effect, and on the instant his
+eyebrows went up in amazement.
+
+"Hullo!" he said.
+
+She was dressed like a gipsy in every detail, even to the scarlet
+kerchief on her head. She drew back a little, colouring under his
+scrutiny.
+
+"I hope you approve," she said.
+
+"By Jove, you look ripping!" said Rivington. "How in the world did you
+do it?"
+
+"I made Mrs. Perkiss help me. We managed it between us. It was just a
+fancy of mine to fill the idle hours. I didn't think I should ever have
+the courage to wear it."
+
+He reached up his hand to her as he sat.
+
+"My dear, you make a charming gipsy," he said. "You will have to sit for
+me."
+
+She laughed, touched his hand with a hint of shyness, and stepped down
+beside him.
+
+"How is the supper getting on? Have you looked at it?"
+
+He laid aside his paper to prepare for the meal. To her evident relief
+he made no further comment at the moment upon her appearance. But when
+supper was over and he was smoking his evening pipe, his eyes dwelt upon
+her continually as she flitted to and fro, having declined his
+assistance, and set everything in order after the meal.
+
+The sun had disappeared, and a deep dusk was falling upon the forest.
+Ernestine moved, elf-like, in the light of the sinking fire. She took no
+notice of the man who watched her, being plainly too busy to heed his
+attention.
+
+But her duties were over at last, and she turned from the ruddy
+firelight and moved, half reluctantly it seemed, towards him. She
+reached him, and stood before him.
+
+"I've done now," she said. "You can rake out the fire. Good-night!"
+
+He took the little hand in his.
+
+"Are you tired, Chirpy?"
+
+"No, I don't think so." She sounded slightly doubtful.
+
+"Won't you stay with me for a little?" he said. She stood silent. "I was
+horribly lonely after you went to bed last night," he urged gently.
+
+She uttered a funny little sigh.
+
+"I'm sure you must have been horribly uncomfortable too," she said. "Did
+you lie awake?"
+
+"No, I wasn't uncomfortable. I've slept in the open heaps of times
+before. I was just--lonely."
+
+She laid her hand lightly on his shoulder as she stood beside him.
+
+"It was rather awesome," she admitted.
+
+"I believe you were lonely too," he said.
+
+She laughed a little, and said nothing.
+
+He took his pipe from his mouth and laid it tenderly upon the ground.
+
+"Shall I tell you something, Chirpy?"
+
+Her hand began to rub up and down uneasily on his shoulder.
+
+"Well?" she said under her breath.
+
+He looked up at her in the falling darkness.
+
+"I feel exactly as you felt over that squirrel," he said. "Do you
+remember? You wanted to kiss it, but the little fool didn't understand."
+
+A slight quiver went through Ernestine. Again rather breathlessly, she
+laughed.
+
+"Some little fools don't," she said.
+
+He moved and very gently slipped his arm about her. "I didn't mean to
+put it quite like that," he said. "You will pardon my clumsiness, won't
+you?"
+
+She did not resist his arm, but neither did she yield to it. Her hand
+still fidgeted upon his shoulder.
+
+"I wish you wouldn't be so horribly nice to me," she said suddenly.
+
+"My dear Chirpy!"
+
+"Yes," she said with vehemence. "Why don't you take what you want? I--I
+should respect you then."
+
+"But I want you to love me," he answered quietly.
+
+She drew a quick breath, and became suddenly quite rigid, intensely
+still.
+
+His arm grew a little closer about her.
+
+"Don't you know I am in love with you, Chirpy?" he asked her very
+softly. "Am I such a dunderhead that I haven't made that plain?"
+
+"Are you?" she said, a sharp catch in her voice. "Are you?" Abruptly she
+stooped to him. "Knight Errant," she said, and the words fell swift and
+passionate, "would you have really wanted to marry me--anyway?"
+
+His face was upturned to hers. He could feel her breathing, sharp and
+short, upon his lips.
+
+"My dear," he said, "I have wanted to marry you ever since that
+afternoon you met me in St. Paul's."
+
+He would have risen with the words, but she made a quick movement
+downwards to prevent him, and suddenly she was on her knees before him
+with her arms about his neck.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad you told me," she whispered tremulously. "I'm so glad."
+
+He gathered her closely to him. His lips were against her forehead.
+
+"It makes all the difference, dear, does it?"
+
+"Yes," she whispered back, clinging faster. "Just all the difference in
+the world, because--because it was that afternoon--I began--to want--you
+too."
+
+And there in the darkness, with the dim forest all about them, she
+turned her lips to meet her husband's first kiss.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                         A Question of Trust
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+Pierre Dumaresq stood gazing out to the hard blue line of the horizon
+with a frown between his brows. The glare upon the water was intense,
+but he stared into it with fixed, unflinching eyes, unconscious of
+discomfort.
+
+He held a supple riding-switch in his hands, at which his fingers
+strained and twisted continually, as though somewhere in the inner man
+there burned a fierce impatience. But his dark face was as immovable as
+though it had been carved in bronze. A tropical sun had made him even
+darker than Nature had intended him to be, a fact to which those fixed
+eyes testified, for they shone like steel in the sunlight, in curious
+contrast to his swarthy skin. His hair was black, cropped close about a
+bullet head, which was set on his broad shoulders with an arrogance that
+gave him a peculiarly aggressive air. The narrow black moustache he wore
+emphasised rather than concealed the thin straight line of mouth.
+Plainly a fighting man this, and one, moreover, accustomed to hold his
+own.
+
+At the striking of a clock in the room behind him he turned as though a
+voice had spoken, and left the stone balcony on which he had been
+waiting. His spurs rang as he stepped into the room behind it. The floor
+was uncarpeted, and shone like ebony.
+
+He glanced around him as one unfamiliar with his surroundings. It was a
+large apartment, and lofty, but it contained very little furniture--a
+couch, two or three chairs, a writing-table; on the walls, several
+strangely shaped weapons; on the mantelpiece a couple of foils.
+
+He smiled as his look fell upon these, and, crossing the room, he took
+one of them up, and tested it between his hands.
+
+At the quiet opening of the door he wheeled, still holding it. A woman
+stood a moment upon the threshold; then slowly entered. She was little
+more than a girl but the cold dignity of her demeanour imparted to her
+the severity of more advanced years. Her face was like marble, white,
+pure, immobile; but there was a touch of pathos about the eyes. They
+were deeply shadowed, and looked as if they had watched--or wept--for
+many hours.
+
+Dumaresq bowed in the brief English fashion, instantly straightening
+himself with a squaring of his broad shoulders that were already so
+immensely square that they made his height seem inconsiderable.
+
+She gravely inclined her head in response. She did not invite him to sit
+down, and he remained where he was, with his fierce eyes unwaveringly
+upon her.
+
+In the middle of the room, full three yards from him, she paused, and
+deliberately met his scrutiny.
+
+"You wished to see me, Monsieur Dumaresq?" she said in English.
+
+"Yes," said Dumaresq. He turned, and laid the foil back upon the
+mantelpiece behind him; then calmly crossed the intervening space, and
+stood before her. "I am grateful to you for granting me an interview,
+mademoiselle," he said. "I am aware that you have done so against your
+will."
+
+There was something of a challenge in the words, but she did not seem to
+hear it. She made answer in a slow, quiet voice that held neither
+antagonism nor friendliness.
+
+"I supposed that you had some suggestion to make, monsieur, which it was
+my duty to hear."
+
+"I see," said Dumaresq, still narrowly observing her. "Well, you are
+right. I have a suggestion to make, one which I beg, for your own sake,
+that you will cordially consider."
+
+Before the almost brutal directness of his look her own eyes slowly
+sank. A very faint tinge of colour crept over her pallor, but she made
+no signs of flinching.
+
+"What is your suggestion, monsieur?" she quietly asked him.
+
+He did not instantly reply. Perhaps he had not altogether expected the
+calm question. She showed no impatience, but she would not again meet
+his eyes. In silence she waited.
+
+At length abruptly he began to speak.
+
+"Have you," he asked, "given any thought to your position here? Have you
+made any plans for yourself in the event of a rising?"
+
+Her eyelids quivered a little, but she did not raise them.
+
+"I do not think," she said, her voice very low, "that the time has yet
+come for making plans."
+
+Dumaresq threw back his head with a movement that seemed to indicate
+either impatience or surprise.
+
+"You are living on the edge of a volcano," he told her, with grim force;
+"and at any moment you may be overwhelmed. Have you never faced that
+yet? Haven't you yet begun to realise that Maritas is a hotbed of
+scoundrels--the very scum and rabble of creation--blackguards whom their
+own countries have, for the most part, refused to tolerate--some of them
+half-breeds, all of them savages? Haven't you yet begun to ask yourself
+what you may expect from these devils when they take the law into their
+own hands? I tell you, mademoiselle, it may happen this very night. It
+may be happening now!"
+
+She raised her eyes at that--dark eyes that gleamed momentarily and were
+as swiftly lowered. When she spoke, her low voice held a thrill of
+scorn.
+
+"Not now, monsieur," she said. "To-night--possibly! But not now--not
+without you to lead them!"
+
+Pierre Dumaresq made a slight movement. It could not have been called a
+menace, though it was in a fashion suggestive of violence
+suppressed--the violence of the baited bull not fully roused to the
+charge.
+
+"You are not wise, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said.
+
+She answered him in a voice that quivered, in spite of her obvious
+effort to control it.
+
+"Nor am I altogether a fool, monsieur. Your sympathies are well known.
+The revolutionists have looked to you to lead them as long as I have
+known Maritas."
+
+"That may be, mademoiselle," he sternly responded. "But it is possible,
+is it not, that they may look in vain?"
+
+Again swiftly her glance flashed upwards.
+
+"Is it possible?" she breathed.
+
+He did not deign to answer.
+
+"I have not come to discuss my position," he said curtly, "but yours.
+What are you going to do, mademoiselle? How do you propose to escape?"
+
+She was white now, white to the lips; but she did not shrink.
+
+"I beg that you will not concern yourself on my account," she said
+proudly. "I shall no doubt find a means of escape if I need it."
+
+"Where, mademoiselle?" There was something dogged in the man's voice,
+his eyes were relentless in their determination. "Are you intending to
+look to your stepfather for protection?"
+
+Again, involuntarily almost, she raised her eyes, but they held no fear.
+
+"No, monsieur," she responded coldly. "I shall find a better way than
+that."
+
+"How, mademoiselle?"
+
+The brief question sounded like a threat. She stiffened as she heard it,
+and stood silent.
+
+"How, mademoiselle?" he said again.
+
+She made a slight gesture of protest.
+
+"Monsieur, it is no one's concern but my own."
+
+"And mine," he said stubbornly.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No, monsieur."
+
+"And mine," he repeated with emphasis, "since I presume to make it so.
+You refuse to answer me merely because you know as well as I do that you
+are caught in a trap from which you are powerless to release yourself.
+And now listen to me. There is a way out--only one way,
+mademoiselle--and if you are wise you will take it, without delay. There
+is only one man in Maritas who can save you. So far as I know, there is
+only one man willing to attempt it. That man holds you already in the
+hollow of his hand. You will be wise to make terms with him while you
+can."
+
+His tone was curiously calm, almost cynical. His eyes were still fixed
+unswervingly upon her face. They beat down the haughty surprise with
+which for a few seconds she encountered them.
+
+"Yes, mademoiselle," he resumed quietly, as though she had spoken. "He
+is a man whom you despise from the bottom of your soul; but for all
+that, he is not wholly despicable. Nor is he incapable of deserving your
+trust if you will bestow it upon him. It is all a question of trust." He
+smiled grimly at the word. "Whatever you expect from him, that you will
+receive in full measure. He does not disappoint his friends--or his
+enemies."
+
+He paused. She was listening with eyes downcast, but her face was a
+very mask of cold disdain.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, with stately deliberation, "I do
+not--wholly--understand you. But it would be wasting your time and my
+own to ask you to explain. As I said before, in the event of a crisis I
+can secure my own safety."
+
+"Nevertheless," said Pierre Dumaresq with a deliberation even greater
+than her own, "I will explain, since a clear understanding seems to me
+advisable. I am asking you to marry me, Mademoiselle Stephanie, in order
+to ensure your safety. It is practically your only alternative now, and
+it must be taken at once. I shall know how to protect my wife. Marry me,
+and I will take you out of the city to my home on the other side of the
+island. My yacht is there in readiness, and escape at any time would be
+easy."
+
+"Escape, monsieur!" Sharply she broke in upon him. Her coldness was all
+gone in a sudden flame of indignation kindled by the sheer arrogance of
+his bearing. "Escape from whom--from what?"
+
+He was silent an instant, almost as if disconcerted. Then:
+
+"Escape from your enemies, mademoiselle," he rejoined sternly. "Escape
+from the mercy of the mob, which is all you can expect if you stay
+here."
+
+Her eyes flashed over him in a single, searing glance of the most utter,
+the most splendid contempt. Then:
+
+"You are more than kind, Monsieur Dumaresq," she said. "But your
+suggestion does not recommend itself to me. In short, I should
+prefer--the mercy of the mob."
+
+The man's brows met ferociously. His hands clenched. He almost looked
+for the moment as though he would strike her. But she did not flinch
+before him, and very slowly the tension passed. Yet his eyes shone
+terribly upon her as a sword-blade that is flashed in the sunlight.
+
+"A strange preference, mademoiselle," he remarked at length, turning to
+pick up his riding-switch. "Possibly you may change your mind--before it
+is too late."
+
+"Never!" she answered proudly.
+
+And Pierre Dumaresq laughed--a sudden, harsh laugh, and turned to go. It
+was only what he had expected, after all, but it galled him none the
+less. He uttered no threat of any sort; only at the door he stood for an
+instant and looked back at her. And the woman's heart contracted within
+her as though her blood had turned to ice.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+When she was alone, when his departing footsteps had ceased to echo
+along the corridor without, Mademoiselle Stephanie drew a long,
+quivering breath and moved to a chair by the window. She sank into it
+with the abandonment of a woman at the end of her strength, and sat
+passive with closed eyes.
+
+For three years now she had lived in this turbulent island of Maritas.
+For three years she had watched discontent gradually merge into
+rebellion and anarchy. And now she knew that at last the end was near.
+
+Her stepfather, the Governor, held his post under the French Government,
+but France at that time was too occupied with matters nearer home to
+spare much attention for the little island in the Atlantic and its
+seething unrest. De Rochefort was considered a capable man, and
+certainly if treachery and cruelty could have upheld his authority he
+would have maintained his ascendency without difficulty. But the
+absinthe demon had gripped him with resistless strength, and all his
+shrewdness had long since been drained away.
+
+Day by day he plunged deeper into the vice that was destroying him, and
+Stephanie could but stand by and watch the gradual gathering of a storm
+that was bound to overwhelm them both.
+
+There was no love between them. They were bound together by circumstance
+alone. She had gone to the place to be with her dying mother, and had
+remained there at that mother's request. Madame de Rochefort's belief in
+her husband had never been shaken, and, dying, she had left her English
+daughter in his care.
+
+Stephanie had accepted a position that there was no one else to fill,
+and then had begun the long martyrdom that, she now saw, could have only
+one ending. She and the Governor were doomed. Already the great wave of
+revolution towered above them. Very soon it would burst and sweep both
+away into the terrible vortex of destruction.
+
+It was only of late that she had come to realise this, and the horror of
+the awakening still at times had power to appal her. For she knew she
+was utterly unprotected. She had tried in vain to rouse the Governor to
+see the ever-growing danger, had striven desperately to open his eyes to
+the unmistakable signs of the coming change. He had laughed at her at
+first, and later, when she had implored him to resign his post, he had
+brutally refused.
+
+She had never approached him again on the matter, seeing the futility of
+argument; but on that selfsame day she had provided herself with a means
+of escape which could not fail her when the last terrible moment
+arrived. Flight she never contemplated. It would have been an utter
+impossibility. She was without friends, without money. Her relations in
+England were to her as beings in another sphere. She had known them in
+her childhood, but they had since dropped out of her existence. The only
+offer of help that had reached her was that which she had just rejected
+from the man whom, of all others, she most hated and desired to avoid.
+
+She shivered suddenly and violently as she recalled the interview. Was
+it possible that she feared him as well? She had always disliked him,
+conscious of something in his manner that perpetually excited her
+antagonism. She had felt his lynx eyes watching her continually
+throughout the bitter struggle, and she had known always that he was
+watching for her downfall.
+
+He was the richest man in the island, and as such his influence was
+considerable. He had not yet made common cause with the revolutionary
+party, but it was generally felt that his sympathies were on their side,
+and it was in him that the majority hoped to find a leader when the time
+for rebellion should be ripe. He had never committed himself to do so,
+but no one on either side doubted his intentions, Mademoiselle
+Stephanie, as every one called her, least of all.
+
+She had been accustomed to meeting him fairly often, though he had never
+been a very frequent guest at the palace. Perhaps he divined her
+aversion, or perhaps--and this was the more likely supposition--his
+hatred of the Governor debarred him from enjoying his hospitality.
+
+He was a man of fierce independence and passionate temperament,
+possessing withal a dogged tenacity that she always ascribed to the fact
+that he was born of an English mother. But she had never before that day
+credited him with the desire to exercise a personal influence in her
+life. She had avoided him by instinct, and till that day he had always
+seemed to acquiesce.
+
+His offer of marriage had been utterly unexpected. Regarding him as she
+did, it seemed to her little short of an insult. She hardly knew what
+motive to ascribe to him for it; but circumstances seemed to point to
+one, ambition. No doubt he thought that she might prove of use to him
+when he stepped into the Governor's place.
+
+Well, he had his answer--a very emphatic one. He could scarcely fail to
+take her at her word. She smiled faintly to herself even while she
+shivered, as she recalled the scarcely suppressed fury with which he had
+received his dismissal. She was glad that she had managed to pierce
+through that immaculate armour of self-complacence just once. She had
+not been woman otherwise.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+An intense stillness brooded over the city. The night was starless, the
+sea black as ink. Stephanie stood alone in the darkness of her balcony,
+and listened to the silence.
+
+Seven days had elapsed since her interview with Pierre Dumaresq--seven
+days of horrible, nerve-racking suspense, of anguished foreboding, of
+ever-creeping, leaden-footed despair. And now at last, though the
+suspense still held her, she knew that the end had come. Only that
+evening, as her carriage had been turning in at the palace gates, a bomb
+had been flung under the wheels. By some miracle it had not exploded.
+She had passed on unharmed.
+
+But the ghastly incident was to her as the sounding of her own
+death-knell. Standing there with her face to the sea, she was telling
+herself that she would never see the daylight again. The very soldiers
+that guarded them were revolutionists at heart. They were only waiting,
+so she believed, for a strong man's word of command to throw open the
+palace doors to frenzied murderers.
+
+No sound came up to her from the motionless sea, no faintest echo of
+waves upon the shore. The stillness hung like a weight upon the senses.
+There was something sinister about it, something vaguely terrible. Yet,
+as she stood there waiting, she was not afraid. Something deeper than
+fear was in her heart. Pulsing through and through her like an electric
+current was a deep and passionate revolt against the fate that awaited
+her.
+
+She could not have said whence it came, this sudden, wild rebellion that
+tore her quivering heart, but it possessed her to the exclusion of all
+besides. She had told herself a hundred times before that death, when it
+came, would be welcome. Yet, now that death was so near her, she longed
+with all her soul to live. She yearned unspeakably to flee away from
+this evil place, to go out into the wide spaces of the earth and to feel
+the sunshine that as yet had never touched her life.
+
+They thought her cold and proud, these people who hated her; but could
+they have seen the tears that rolled down her face that night there
+might have been some among them to pity her. But she was the victim of
+circumstance, bound and helpless, and, though her woman's heart might
+agonise, there was none to know.
+
+A sudden sound in the night--a sharp sound like the crack of a whip, but
+louder, more menacing, more nerve-piercing. She turned, every muscle
+tense, and listened with bated breath.
+
+It had not come from the garden below her. The silence hung there like a
+pall. Stay! What was that? The sound of a movement on the terrace under
+her balcony--a muffled, stealthy sound.
+
+There was no sentry there, she knew. The sentries on that side of the
+palace were posted at the great iron gates that shut off the garden from
+the road which ran along the shore to the fortress above.
+
+A spasm of fear, sharp as physical pain, ran through her. She stepped
+quickly back into the room; but there she stopped, stopped deliberately
+to wrestle with the terror which had swooped so suddenly upon her. She
+had maintained her self-control admirably a few hours before in the face
+of frightful danger, but now in this awful silence it threatened to
+desert her. Desperately, determinedly, she brought it back inch by inch,
+till the panic in her vanished and her heart began to beat more bravely.
+
+She went at length and opened the door that led into the long corridor
+outside her apartments. The place was deserted. The silence hung like
+death. She stood a moment, gathering her courage, then passed out. She
+must ascertain if the Governor were in his room, and warn him--if he
+would be warned.
+
+She had nearly traversed the length of the corridor when again the
+silence was rent suddenly and terribly by that sound that was like the
+crack of a whip. She stopped short, all the blood racing back to her
+heart. She knew it now beyond a doubt. She had known it before in her
+secret soul. It was the report of a rifle in the palace square.
+
+As she stood irresolute, listening with straining nerves, another sound
+began to grow out of the night, gathering strength with every instant, a
+long, fierce roar that resembled nothing that she had ever heard, yet
+which she knew instinctively for what it was--the raging tumult of an
+angry crowd. It was like the yelling of a thousand demons.
+
+Suddenly it swelled to an absolute pandemonium of sound, and she shrank
+appalled. The sudden, paralysing conviction flashed upon her that the
+palace had been deserted by its guards and was in the hands of
+murderers. She seemed to hear them swarming everywhere, unopposed, yet
+lusting for blood, while she, a defenceless woman, stood cowering
+against a door.
+
+Sheer physical horror seized upon her. The mercy of the mob! The mercy
+of the mob! The words ran red-hot in her brain. She knew well what she
+might expect from them. They would tear her limb from limb.
+
+She could not face it. She must escape. Even now surely she could
+escape. Back in her room, only the length of the corridor away, was
+deliverance. Surely she could reach it in time! Like a hunted creature
+she gathered herself together, and, turning, fled along the way she had
+come.
+
+She rushed at length, panting, into her room, and, without a pause or
+glance around, fled into the bedroom beyond. It was here, it was here
+that her deliverance lay, safe hidden in a secret drawer.
+
+The place was in darkness save for the light that streamed after her
+through the open door. Shaking in every limb, near to fainting, she
+groped her way across, found--almost fell against--her little
+writing-table, and sank upon her knees before it--for the moment too
+spent to move.
+
+But a slight sound that seemed to come from near at hand aroused her.
+She started up in a fresh panic, pulled out a drawer, that fell with a
+crash from her trembling hands, and began to feel behind for a secret
+spring. Oh, she had been a fool, a fool to hide it so securely! She
+would never find it in the darkness.
+
+Nevertheless, groping, her quivering fingers soon discovered that which
+they sought. The secret slide opened and she felt for what lay beyond. A
+moment later she was clasping tightly a little silver flask.
+
+And then, with deliverance actually within her hold, she paused.
+Kneeling there in the darkness she strove to collect her thoughts, that
+she might not die in panic. It was not death that she feared just then.
+She knew that it would come to her swiftly, she believed painlessly. But
+she would not die before she need. She would wait a little. Perhaps when
+the wild tumult at her heart had subsided she would be able to pray, not
+for deliverance from death--there could be no alternative now--but for
+peace.
+
+So, kneeling alone, she waited; and presently, growing calmer, removed
+the top of the flask so that she might be ready.
+
+Seconds passed. Her nerves were growing steadier; the mad gallop of her
+heart was slackening.
+
+She leaned her head on her hand and closed her eyes.
+
+And then, all in a moment, fear seized her again--the sudden
+consciousness of some one near her, some one watching. With a gasp she
+started to her feet, and on the instant there came the click of the
+electric switch by the door, and the room was flooded with light.
+
+Dazzled, almost blinded, she stared across the intervening space, and
+met the steely, relentless eyes of Pierre Dumaresq!
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+She stood motionless, staring, as one dazed. He, without apology or word
+of any sort, strode straight forward. His face expressed stern
+determination, naught else.
+
+But ere he reached her she awoke to action, stepping sharply backwards
+so that the table was between them. He came to a stand perforce in front
+of it, and looked her full and piercingly in the eyes.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he said, and his voice was so curt that it sounded
+brutal, "you must come at once. The palace is in the hands of murderers.
+The Governor has been assassinated. In a few seconds more they will be
+at your door. Come!"
+
+She recoiled from him with a face of horror.
+
+"With you, monsieur? Never!" she cried.
+
+He laid his hand upon the table and leaned forward.
+
+"With me, yes," he said, speaking rapidly, yet with lips that scarcely
+seemed to move. "I have come for you, and I mean to take you. Be wise,
+Mademoiselle Stephanie! Come quietly!"
+
+She scarcely heard him. Frenzy had gripped her--wild, unreasoning,
+all-mastering frenzy. The supreme moment had come for her, and, with a
+face that was like a death-mask, she raised the silver flask to her
+lips.
+
+But no drop of its contents ever touched them, for in that instant
+Pierre vaulted the intervening table and hurled himself upon her. The
+flask flew from her hand and spun across the room, falling she knew not
+where; while she herself was caught in the man's arms and held in a grip
+like iron.
+
+She struggled fiercely to free herself, but for many seconds she
+struggled in vain. Then, just as her strength was beginning to leave
+her, he abruptly set her free.
+
+"Come!" he said. "There is no time for childish folly. Find a cloak, and
+we will go."
+
+His tone was peremptory, but it held no anger. Turning from her, he
+walked deliberately away into the outer room.
+
+She sank back trembling against the wall, nearer to collapse than she
+had ever been before. But the momentary respite had its effect, and
+instinctively she began to gather herself together for fresh effort. He
+had wrested her deliverance from her, but she would never accept what he
+offered in exchange. She would never escape with his man. She would
+sooner--yes, a thousand times sooner--face the mercy of the mob.
+
+"Mademoiselle Stephanie!" Impatiently his voice came to her from the
+farther room. "Are you coming, or am I to fetch you?"
+
+She did not answer. A sudden wild idea had formed in her brain. If she
+could slip past him--if she could reach the outer door--he would never
+overtake her on the corridor. But she must be brave, she must be subtle,
+she must watch her opportunity.
+
+With some semblance of composure she took out a long travelling-cloak,
+and walked into the room in which he awaited her. With a start of
+surprise, she saw him standing by the open window.
+
+"This way, mademoiselle," he said curtly; and she realised that he must
+have entered from the garden.
+
+"One moment, monsieur," she returned, and quietly crossed the room to
+the door at the other end.
+
+It was closed. It must have swung to behind her, for she did not
+remember closing it.
+
+He made no attempt to stop her. He could not surely have guessed her
+intention, for he remained motionless by the window, watching her. Her
+heart was thumping as though it would choke her, but yet she controlled
+herself. He must not suspect till the door was open, till the passage
+was clear before her, and pursuit of no avail.
+
+She reached out a quivering hand and grasped the ebony knob. Now--now
+for the last and greatest effort of her life! Sharply she turned the
+handle, pulled at it, wrenched it with frantic force, finally turned
+from it and confronted the man at the window with eyes that were hunted,
+desperate.
+
+"Let me go!" she gasped hoarsely. "How dare you keep me here against my
+will?"
+
+"I have no desire to keep you here, mademoiselle," he answered. "I am
+only waiting to take you away."
+
+"I refuse to go with you!" she cried. "I would rather die a thousand
+times!"
+
+His brows contracted into a single grim line. He left the window and
+came towards her.
+
+But at his action she sprang away like a mad thing, dodged him, avoided
+him, then leapt suddenly upon a chair and snatched a rapier from a group
+of swords arranged in a circle upon the wall. The light fell full upon
+her ashen face and eyes of horror. She was beside herself.
+
+All her instincts urged her to resistance. She had always shrunk from
+this man. If she could only hold him at bay for a little--if she could
+only resist long enough--surely she heard the feet of the murderers upon
+the corridor already! It would not take them long to batter down the
+door and take her life!
+
+As she sprang to the ground again, Pierre spoke. The frown had gone from
+his face; it wore a faint, ironical smile. His eyes, alert, unblinking,
+marked her every movement as the eyes of a lynx upon its prey. He did
+not appear in the least disconcerted. There was even a sort of terrible
+patience in his attitude, as though he already saw the end of the
+struggle.
+
+"Would it not be wiser, mademoiselle," he said, "to reserve your steel
+for an enemy?"
+
+She met his piercing look for an instant as she compelled her white lips
+to answer. "You are the worst enemy that I have."
+
+He threw back his head with an arrogant gesture very characteristic of
+him. "By your own choice, mademoiselle," he said.
+
+"Yes," she flung back passionately. "I prefer you as an enemy."
+
+He laughed at that--a fiendish, scoffing laugh that made her shrink in
+every nerve. Then, with unmoved composure, he walked to the mantelpiece
+and took up one of the foils that lay there.
+
+"Now," he said quietly, "since you are determined to fight me, so be it!
+But when you are beaten, Mademoiselle Stephanie, do not ask for mercy!"
+
+But she drew back sharply from his advance. "Take one of those rapiers,"
+she said.
+
+He shook his head, still with that mocking smile upon his lips. "This
+will serve my purpose better," he said. "Are you ready, mademoiselle? On
+guard!"
+
+And with that his weapon crossed hers. She knew his purpose the moment
+she encountered it. It was written in every grim line of his
+countenance. He meant the conflict to be very short.
+
+She was no novice in the art of fencing, but she was no match for him.
+Moreover, she could not meet the pitiless eyes that stared straight into
+hers. They distracted her. They terrified her. Yet every moment seemed
+to her to be something gained. Through all the wild chaos of her
+overstrung nerves she was listening, listening desperately, for the
+sound of feet outside the door. If she could only withstand him for a
+few short seconds! If only her strength would last!
+
+But she was nearing exhaustion, and she knew it. Her brain had begun to
+swim. She saw him in a blur before her quivering vision. The hand that
+grasped the rapier was too numbed to obey her behests. Suddenly there
+came a tumult in the corridor without--a hoarse yelling and the rush of
+many feet. It was the sound she had been listening for, but it startled,
+it unnerved her. And in that instant Pierre thrust through her guard and
+with a lightning twist of the wrist sent her weapon hurtling through the
+air.
+
+The sound of its fall was lost in the clamour outside the door--a
+clamour so sudden and so horrible that it did for Stephanie that which
+nothing else on earth could have accomplished. It drove her to the man
+she hated for protection.
+
+As he flung down the foil, she made a swift move towards him. There was
+no longer shrinking in her eyes. She was simply a trembling,
+panic-stricken woman, turning instinctively to the stronger power for
+help. A little earlier she could have died without a tremor, but the
+wild strife of the past few minutes had broken down her fortitude. Her
+strength was gone.
+
+"Monsieur!" she panted. "Monsieur!"
+
+He caught her roughly to him. Even in that moment of deadly peril there
+was a certain fiery exultation about him. He held her fast, his eyes
+gazing straight down into hers.
+
+"Shall I save you?" he said. "I can die with you--if you prefer it."
+
+"Save me!" she cried piteously. "Save me!"
+
+He bent his head, and suddenly, fiercely, savagely, he kissed her white
+lips. Then, before she could utter cry or protest, he whirled her across
+the room to the open window, catching up her cloak as he went; and,
+almost before the horror of his kiss had dawned upon her, she was out
+upon the balcony, alone with him in the awful dark.
+
+He kept his hand upon her as he stepped over the stone railing, but all
+power of independent action seemed to have left her. She was as one
+stunned or beneath some spell. She stood quite rigid while he groped for
+and found the ladder by which he had ascended. Then, as he lifted her,
+she let herself go into his arms without resistance. He clasped her
+hands behind his neck, and she clung there mechanically as he made the
+swift descent.
+
+They reached the ground in safety, and he set her on her feet. The
+terrace on which they found themselves was deserted. But as they stood
+in the dark they heard the fiends in the corridor burst into the room
+they had just left. And Pierre Dumaresq, lowering the ladder, laughed to
+himself a low, fierce laugh, without words.
+
+The next instant there came a rush of feet upon the balcony above them
+and a torrent of angry shouting. Stephanie shrank against a pillar, but
+in a moment Pierre's arm encircled her, impelling her irresistibly, and
+they fled across the terrace through the darkness. The man was still
+laughing as he ran. There seemed to her something devilish in his
+laughter.
+
+Down through the palace garden they sped, she gasping and stumbling in
+nightmare flight, he strongly upholding her, till half a dozen revolver
+shots pierced the infuriated uproar behind them and something that
+burned with a red-hot agony struck her left hand. She cried out
+involuntarily, and Pierre ceased his headlong rush for safety.
+
+"You are hit?" he questioned. "Where?"
+
+But she could not answer him, could not so much as stand. His voice
+seemed to come from an immense distance. She hardly heard his words. She
+was sinking, sinking into a void unfathomable.
+
+He did not stay to question further. Abruptly he stooped, gathered her
+up, slung her across his shoulder, and ran on.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+When Stephanie opened her eyes again the sound of the sea was in her
+ears, and she felt as if she must have heard it for some time. She was
+lying in a chair amid surroundings wholly strange to her, and some
+one--a man whose face she could not see--was beside her, bending over a
+table, evidently engaged upon something that occupied his most minute
+attention. She watched him dreamily for a little, till the immense
+breadth of his shoulders struck a quick-growing fear into her heart;
+then she made a sudden effort to raise herself.
+
+Instantly she was stabbed by a dart of pain so acute that she barely
+repressed a cry.
+
+"Keep still, mademoiselle!" It was Pierre's voice; he spoke without
+turning. "I shall not hurt you more than I can help."
+
+She sank back again, shuddering uncontrollably. She knew now what he was
+doing. It had flashed upon her in that moment of horrible suffering. He
+was probing for a bullet in her left hand. Dumbly she shut her eyes and
+set herself to endure.
+
+But the pain was almost insupportable; it seemed to rack her whole body.
+And the presence of the man she feared, his nearness to her, his touch,
+added tenfold to the torture. Yet she was helpless, and, spent,
+exhausted though she was, for very pride she would utter no complaint.
+
+Minutes passed. She was near to fainting again, when abruptly Pierre
+stood up. She heard him move, and she was conscious of a blessed
+lessening of the pain. But she dared not stir or open her eyes, lest her
+self-control should forsake her utterly. She could only lie and wait in
+quivering suspense.
+
+He bent over her without speaking, and suddenly she felt the rim of a
+glass against her lips. With a start she looked up. His swarthy face was
+close to her own, but it was grimly immobile. He seemed to have clad
+himself from head to foot in an impenetrable armour of reserve. His lips
+were set in a firm line, as though all speech were locked securely
+behind them.
+
+Mutely she obeyed his unspoken command and drank. The draught was unlike
+anything she had ever tasted before. It revived her, renewing her
+failing strength.
+
+"I thank you, monsieur," she said faintly.
+
+He set down the glass, and busied himself once more with her wounded
+hand.
+
+"I shall not hurt you any further," he said, as involuntarily she
+winced.
+
+And he kept his word. The worst of his task was over. He only bathed and
+bandaged with a gentleness and dexterity at which she marvelled.
+
+At last he looked at her.
+
+"You are better?" he asked.
+
+She met his eyes for an instant. They were absolutely steady, but they
+told her nothing whatever of his thoughts.
+
+"Yes, I am better," she said, with an effort.
+
+"Can you walk?" he said.
+
+"I think so, monsieur."
+
+"Then come with me," he rejoined, "and I will show you where you can
+rest."
+
+She sat up slowly. He bent to help her, but she would not accept his
+help till, rising to her feet, she felt the floor sway beneath her.
+Then, with a sharp exclamation, she clutched for support and gripped his
+proffered arm.
+
+"Monsieur!" she gasped.
+
+He held her up, for she was tottering. Her pale face stared
+panic-stricken up to his.
+
+"Monsieur!" she gasped again. "What is this? Where am I?"
+
+He made answer curtly, in a tone that sounded repressive.
+
+"You are on board my yacht, mademoiselle." She swayed, and he put his
+arm round her. "You are in safety," he said, in the same brief fashion.
+
+"As--as your prisoner?" she whispered, trying weakly to free herself
+from his hold.
+
+"As my guest," he said.
+
+By an immense effort she controlled herself, meeting his stern eyes with
+something like composure. But the memory of that single, scorching kiss
+was still with her. And in spite of her utmost resolution, she flinched
+from his direct gaze.
+
+"If I am your guest," she said, her low voice quivering a very little,
+"I am at liberty to come--and to go--as I will."
+
+"Absolutely!" said Pierre, and she fancied for an instant that he
+smiled.
+
+"You will take me wherever I desire to go?" she persisted, still
+battling with her agitation.
+
+"With one exception," he answered quietly. "I will not take you back to
+Maritas."
+
+She shivered. "Then where, monsieur?"
+
+His expression changed slightly. She had a momentary glimpse of the
+arrogance she dreaded.
+
+"The world is wide," he said. "And there is plenty of time before us. We
+need not decide to-night."
+
+She trembled more at the tone than the words. "I did not think you would
+leave Maritas so soon," she murmured.
+
+"Why not, mademoiselle?" His voice suddenly rang hard; it almost held a
+threat.
+
+She had withdrawn herself from him, but she was hardly capable of
+standing alone. She leaned secretly against the chair from which she had
+just risen.
+
+"Because," she made answer, still desperately facing him, "I thought
+that Maritas wanted you."
+
+He uttered a brief laugh that sounded savage.
+
+"That was yesterday," he told her grimly. "I have forfeited my
+popularity since then."
+
+A slow, painful flush rose in Stephanie's drawn face, but she shrank no
+longer from his look. "And you have gained nothing in exchange," she
+said, her voice very low.
+
+"Except what I desired to gain," said Pierre Dumaresq.
+
+She made a slight, involuntary movement, and instantly her brows
+contracted. She closed her eyes with a shudder. The pain was almost
+intolerable.
+
+A moment later she felt his strong arms lift her and a sudden passion of
+misery swept over her. Where was the use of feigning strength when he
+knew so well her utter weakness; of fighting, when she was already so
+hopelessly beaten; of begging his mercy even when he had warned her so
+emphatically that she must not expect it?
+
+Despair entered into her. She could resist him no longer by so much as
+the lifting of a finger. And as the knowledge swept overwhelmingly upon
+her, the last poor shred of her pride crumbled to nothing in a rush of
+anguished tears.
+
+Pierre said no more. His hard mouth grew a little harder, his steely
+eyes a shade more steely--that was all. He bore her unfaltering through
+the saloon to the state cabin beyond, and laid her down there.
+
+In another second she heard the click of the latch, and his step upon
+the threshold. Softly the door closed. Softly he went away.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+And Stephanie slept. From her paroxysm of weeping she passed into deep,
+untroubled slumber, and hour after hour slipped over her unconscious
+head while she lay at rest.
+
+When she awoke at last the evening sun was streaming in through the tiny
+porthole by the head of her couch, and she knew that she must have slept
+throughout the day. She was very drowsy still, and for a while she lay
+motionless, listening to the monotonous beat of the yacht's engines, and
+watching the white spray as it tossed past.
+
+Very gradually she began to remember what had happened to her. She
+glanced at her wounded hand, swathed in bandages and resting upon a
+cushion. Who had arranged it so, she wondered? How had it been done
+without her waking?
+
+At the back of her mind hovered the answers to both these questions, but
+she could not bring herself to face them--not yet. She was loth to
+withdraw herself from the haze of sleep that still hung about her. She
+shrank intuitively from a full awakening.
+
+And then, while she still loitered on the way to consciousness, there
+came a soft movement near her, and in a moment all her repose was
+shattered.
+
+Pierre, his dark face grimly inscrutable, bent over her with a cup of
+something steaming in his hand.
+
+She shrank at the sight of him. Her whole body seemed to contract.
+Involuntarily almost she shut her eyes. Her heart leapt and palpitated
+within her like a chained thing seeking to escape.
+
+Then suddenly it stood still. He was speaking.
+
+"Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said, "I beg you will not agitate yourself.
+You have no cause for agitation. It is not by my own wish that I intrude
+upon you. I have no choice."
+
+It was curtly uttered. It sounded rigidly uncompromising. Yet, for some
+reason wholly inexplicable to herself, she was conscious of relief. She
+opened her eyes, though she did not dare to raise them.
+
+"How is that, monsieur?" she said faintly.
+
+He was silent for a moment; then:
+
+"There is no woman on board besides yourself," he told her briefly.
+"Your own people deserted you. I had no time to search for others."
+
+She felt as if his eyes were drawing her own. Against her will she
+looked up and met them. They told her nothing, but at least they did not
+frighten her afresh.
+
+"Where are you going to take me?" she asked.
+
+"We will speak of that later," he said. "Will you drink this now? You
+need it."
+
+"What is it, monsieur?"
+
+For an instant she saw his faint, hard smile.
+
+"It is broth, mademoiselle, nothing more."
+
+"Nothing?" she said, still hesitating. "You--I think you gave me a
+narcotic before!"
+
+"I did," said Pierre. "And it did you good."
+
+She did not attempt to contradict him. The repression of his manner held
+her silent. Without further demur she sought to raise herself.
+
+But her head swam the moment she lifted it from the pillow, and she sank
+down again with closed eyes and drawn brows.
+
+"In a moment," she whispered.
+
+"Permit me," said Pierre quietly; and slipped his arm under her pillow.
+
+She looked up sharply to protest, but the words died on her lips. She
+saw that he would not be denied.
+
+He supported her with absolute steadiness while she drank, not uttering
+a word. Finally, he lowered her again, and spoke:
+
+"It is time that your wound was attended to. With your permission I will
+proceed with it at once."
+
+"Is it serious, monsieur?" she asked.
+
+"I can tell you better when I have seen it," he rejoined, beginning to
+loosen the bandage. "Does it pain you?" as she winced.
+
+"A little," she acknowledged, with quivering lips.
+
+He glanced at her, and for the first time in all her experience of him
+he spoke with a hint of kindness.
+
+"It will not take long, Mademoiselle Stephanie. Shut your eyes till it
+is over."
+
+She obeyed him mutely. Her fear of the man was merging into a curious
+feeling of reliance. She was beginning to realise that her enforced
+dependence upon him had in some fashion altered his attitude towards
+her.
+
+"No," he said at last. "It is not a very serious matter, though it may
+give you some trouble till it is healed. You will need to keep very
+quiet, mademoiselle, and"--again momentarily she saw his smile--"avoid
+agitating yourself as much as possible."
+
+"You may rely upon me to do that, monsieur," she returned with dignity;
+"if I am allowed to do so."
+
+Again for an instant she felt his eyes upon her, and she thought he
+frowned; but he made no comment.
+
+Quietly he finished his bandaging before he spoke again.
+
+"If there is any other way in which I can serve you," he said then, "you
+have only to command me."
+
+She turned upon her pillow and faced him. The gradual reviving of her
+physical strength helped her at least to simulate some of her ancient
+pride that he had trampled so ruthlessly underfoot.
+
+"What do you mean by that?" she questioned calmly.
+
+He met her look fully and sternly.
+
+"I mean, Mademoiselle Stephanie, precisely what I have said--no more, no
+less!"
+
+In spite of her utmost effort, she flinched a little. Yet she would not
+be conquered by a look.
+
+"I am to treat you as my servant, then, monsieur?" she questioned.
+
+He dropped his eyes suddenly from hers.
+
+"If it suits you to do so," he said.
+
+"The situation is not of my choosing," she reminded him.
+
+"Nor mine," he answered drily.
+
+Her heart sank, but with an effort she maintained a fair show of
+courage.
+
+"Monsieur Dumaresq," she said, "I think that you mean to be kind. I
+shall act upon that assumption. Since I am thrown upon your hospitality
+under circumstances which neither of us would have chosen----"
+
+"I did not say that, mademoiselle," he interposed. "I have no quarrel
+with the gods that govern circumstance. My only regret is that, as my
+guest, you should be inefficiently served. If you find yourself able to
+treat me as a servant it will be my pleasure to serve you."
+
+She did not understand his tone. It seemed to her that he was trying in
+some fashion to warn her. Again the memory of his kiss swept over her;
+again to the very heart of her she shrank.
+
+"I think," she said slowly, "that I am more your prisoner than your
+guest, Monsieur Dumaresq."
+
+"It is not always quite wise to express our thoughts," he rejoined, with
+deliberate cynicism. "I have ventured to point that out to you before."
+
+Again he baffled her. She looked at him doubtfully. He was standing up
+beside her on the point of departure. He returned her gaze with his
+steely eyes almost as though he challenged her to penetrate to the
+citadel they guarded.
+
+With a sharp sigh she abandoned the contest. "I wish I understood you,"
+she said.
+
+He jerked his shoulders expressively.
+
+"You knew me a week ago better than I knew myself," he remarked. "What
+more would you have?"
+
+She did not answer him. She only moved her head upon the pillow with a
+gesture of weariness. She knew that she would search those pitiless eyes
+in vain for the key to the puzzle, and she only longed to be left alone.
+He could not, surely, refuse to grant her unspoken desire.
+
+Yet for a moment it seemed that he would prolong the interview. He stood
+above her, motionless, arrogant, frowning downwards as though he had
+something more to say. Then, while she waited tensely, dreading the very
+sound of his voice, his attitude suddenly underwent a change. The thin
+lips tightened sharply. He turned away.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+After he was gone, Stephanie sat up and gazed for a long, long time at
+the scud of water leaping past the porthole.
+
+She felt stunned by the events of the past twenty-four hours. She could
+only review them with a numbed amazement. The long suspense had ended so
+suddenly and so terribly. She could hardly begin to realise that it was
+indeed over, that the storm she had foreseen for so long had burst at
+last, sweeping away the Governor in headlong overthrow, and leaving her
+bruised and battered indeed, but still alive. She had never thought to
+survive him. She had not loved him, but her lot had been so inextricably
+bound up with his, that she had never seriously contemplated the
+possibility of life without him. What would happen to her? she asked
+herself. How would it end?
+
+There was no denying the fact that, however inexplicable Pierre's
+treatment might be, she was completely and irretrievably his prisoner.
+
+There was no one to deliver her from him; no one to know or care what
+became of her. Her importance had crumbled to nothing so far as the
+world was concerned. She had simply ceased to count. What did he mean to
+do with her? Why had he refused to discuss the future?
+
+Gradually, with a certain reluctance, her thoughts came down to her
+recent interview with him, and again the feeling that he had been trying
+to convey something that she had failed to grasp possessed her. Why had
+he warned her against attempting to define her position? What had those
+last words of his meant?
+
+One thing at least was certain. Though he had done little to reassure
+her, she must make a determined effort to overcome her fear of the man.
+She must not again shrink openly in his presence. She must feign
+confidence, though she felt it not. Something that he had said a week
+before on the occasion of his extraordinary proposal of marriage
+recurred to her at this point with curious force.
+
+"It is all a question of trust," he had said, and she recalled the
+faint, derisive smile with which he had spoken. "Whatever you expect,
+that you will receive." The words dwelt in her memory with a strange
+persistence. She had a feeling that they meant a good deal. It was
+possible--surely it was possible--that if she trusted him, he might
+prove himself to be trustworthy. If only her nerves were equal to the
+task! If only the terrible memory of his kiss could be blotted for ever
+and ever from her mind!
+
+She rose at last and began to move about the little state cabin. It was
+furnished luxuriously in every detail--almost, she told herself with a
+shiver, as though for a bride. Catching sight of her reflection in a
+mirror, she stared aghast, scarcely recognising herself in the
+wild-eyed, haggard woman who met her gaze. Small wonder that she had
+deemed him repressive, she told herself, for she looked like a demented
+creature.
+
+That astounding glimpse did more for her than any mental effort. Quite
+calmly she set to work to render her appearance more normal, and,
+crippled though she was, she succeeded at length in attaining a fairly
+satisfactory result. At least she did not think that a masculine eye
+would detect anything amiss.
+
+This achieved, she finally drew her travelling cloak about her and went
+to the door. It resisted her effort to open, but in a moment she heard a
+step on the other side and the withdrawal of a bolt.
+
+Pierre opened the door for her, and stood back for her to pass. But she
+remained on the threshold.
+
+"Monsieur Dumaresq, why did you lock me in?" she asked him, with
+something of her old stateliness of demeanour, which had made men deem
+her proud.
+
+His grey eyes comprehended her in a single glance. He made her his curt,
+British bow.
+
+"You were overwrought, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said. "I was not sure
+of your intentions. But I see that the precaution was unnecessary."
+
+She understood him, and a faint flush rose in her pale face.
+
+"Quite," she responded. "I have come to my senses, monsieur, and I know
+how to value your protection. I shall not seek that means of escape so
+long as you are safeguarding me."
+
+She smiled with the words, a brave and steadfast smile, and extended her
+hand to him.
+
+The gesture was queenly, but the instant his fingers closed upon it she
+quivered uncontrollably from head to foot. A sudden mist descended
+before her eyes, and she groped out blindly for support. Her overtaxed
+nerves had betrayed her again.
+
+"Come and sit down, mademoiselle," a quiet voice said; and a steady arm
+impelled her forward. "There is something of a swell to-night. I am
+afraid you feel it."
+
+So courteous was the tone that she almost gasped her astonishment. She
+sank into a chair, and made a desperate effort to regain her
+self-control.
+
+"You are very kind, monsieur," she said, not very steadily. "No doubt I
+shall become accustomed to it."
+
+"I do not think you are quite fit for this," he said gravely.
+
+She looked up at him with more confidence.
+
+"I am really stronger than you think," she said. "And I wanted to speak
+to you on the subject of our destination."
+
+She fancied that he stiffened a little at the words, but he merely said:
+
+"Well, mademoiselle?"
+
+"Will you not sit down," she said, "and tell me where the yacht is
+going?"
+
+He sat down on the edge of the table. There was undeniable restlessness
+in his attitude.
+
+"We are running due west at the present moment," he said.
+
+"With what object?" she asked.
+
+"With no object, mademoiselle," he rejoined, "except to keep out of
+reach of our enemies."
+
+"You have left Maritas for good?" she asked.
+
+He uttered a short laugh.
+
+"Certainly. I have nothing to go back for."
+
+"And you are indifferent," she questioned, with slight hesitation, "as
+to the direction you take?"
+
+"No, I am not indifferent," he answered curtly.
+
+She was silent. His manner puzzled her, made her afraid in spite of
+herself.
+
+There followed a short pause, then he turned slightly and looked at her.
+
+"Have you any particular wishes upon the subject?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, monsieur."
+
+Her reply was very low.
+
+"Let me hear them," said Pierre.
+
+"I should like," she said slowly, "if it be possible, to go to England.
+I have relations there who might help me."
+
+"Help you, mademoiselle?"
+
+His tone sounded harsh.
+
+"To earn my living," she answered simply.
+
+His brows met suddenly.
+
+"It is a far cry to England," he observed.
+
+"I know it," she said. "I am counting upon your kindness."
+
+"I see," said Pierre. "I am to take you there, and--leave you. Is that
+it?"
+
+She bent her head.
+
+"If you will, monsieur."
+
+"And if I will not?" he said.
+
+She was silent.
+
+He stood up abruptly, and walked to the farther end of the saloon. When
+he came back his face was set and grim. He halted in front of her.
+
+"I am to do this thing for nothing?" he said. And it seemed to her that,
+though uttered quietly, his words came through clenched teeth.
+
+Again wild panic was at her heart, but with all her strength she held it
+back.
+
+"You offered to serve me, monsieur," she reminded him.
+
+"Even a servant expects to be paid," he rejoined curtly.
+
+"But I have nothing to offer you," she said.
+
+She saw the grey eyes glitter as steel in sudden sunshine. Their
+brightness was intolerable. She turned her own away.
+
+"Does it not occur to you, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said, "that your
+life is more my property than your own at the present moment? Have I no
+claim to be consulted as to its disposal?"
+
+"None, monsieur," she made answer quickly. "None whatever."
+
+"And yet," he said, "you asked me to save you when--had you preferred
+it--I would have died with you."
+
+She was silent, remembering with bitterness her wild cry for
+deliverance.
+
+He waited a little. Then:
+
+"You may have nothing to offer me, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said,
+"but, by heaven, you shall take nothing away."
+
+She heard a deep menace in his voice that was like the growl of an angry
+beast. She shuddered inwardly as she listened, but outwardly she
+remained calm. She even, after a few moments, mustered strength to rise
+and face him.
+
+"What is it that you want of me, Monsieur Dumaresq?" she asked. "How can
+I purchase your services?"
+
+He flung back his head abruptly. She thought that he was going to utter
+his scoffing laugh. But it did not come. Instead, he looked at her,
+looked at her long and piercingly, while she stood erect and waited.
+
+At last: "The price for my services," he said deliberately, "is that you
+marry me as soon as we reach England."
+
+"Marry you!" In spite of her utmost resolution she started, and slightly
+shrank. "You still desire that?"
+
+"I still desire it," he said.
+
+"And if I refuse?" she questioned, her voice very low.
+
+"You will not refuse," he returned, with conviction. "You dare not
+refuse."
+
+She stood silent.
+
+"And that being so," said Pierre, with a certain doggedness peculiarly
+at variance with his fierce and headlong nature, "that being so,
+Mademoiselle Stephanie, would it not be wiser for you to yield at once?"
+
+"To yield, monsieur?"
+
+Her eyes sought his for the fraction of a second. He was still closely
+watching her.
+
+"To give me your promise," he said. "It is all I shall ask of you. I
+shall be satisfied with that."
+
+"And what have you to offer in exchange?" she said.
+
+A strange expression, that was almost a smile, flitted over his hard
+face.
+
+"I will give you my friendship," he said, "no more, no less."
+
+But still she hesitated, till suddenly, with a gesture wholly arrogant,
+he held out his hand.
+
+"Trust me," he said, "and I will be trustworthy."
+
+She knew it for a definite promise, however insolently expressed. It was
+plain that he meant what he said. It was plain that he desired to win
+her confidence. And in a measure she was reassured. His actions
+testified to a patience of which she had not deemed him capable.
+
+Slowly, in unconscious submission to his will, she laid her hand in his.
+
+"And afterwards, monsieur?" she said. "Shall I be able to trust you
+then?"
+
+He leaned slightly towards her, looking more closely into her face.
+
+Then: "All my life, Stephanie," he said, and before she realised his
+intention he had pressed her hand to his lips with the action of a man
+who seals an oath.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+From that hour forward, Stephanie was no longer a close prisoner. She
+was free to wander wherever she would about the yacht, but she never
+penetrated very far. The vessel was no mere pleasure boat, and there was
+much that might have interested her, had she been disposed to take an
+interest therein. But she shrank with a morbid dread from the eyes of
+the Spanish sailors. She longed unspeakably to hide herself away in
+unbroken seclusion.
+
+Her wound healed rapidly, so rapidly that Pierre soon ceased to treat
+it, but it took much longer for her to recover from the effects of that
+terrible night at Maritas. The horror of it was with her night and day.
+
+Pierre's treatment of her never varied. He saw to her comfort with
+unfailing vigilance and consideration, but he never attempted to obtrude
+himself upon her. He seldom spoke to her unless she addressed him. He
+never by word or look referred to the compact between them. Her fear of
+him had sunk away into the background of her thoughts. Furtively she
+studied him, but he gave her no cause for fear. When she sat on the
+deck, he never joined her. He did not so much as eat with her till one
+day, not without much inward trepidation, she invited him to do so. And
+she marvelled, again and again she marvelled, at his forbearance.
+
+Calmly and uneventfully the endless summer days slipped by. Her strength
+was undoubtedly returning to her, the youth in her reviving. The long
+rest was taking effect upon her. The overstrung nerves were growing
+steady again. Often she would sit and ponder upon the future, but she
+had no definite idea to guide her. At first she shrank unspeakably from
+the bare thought of the end of the voyage, but gradually she became
+accustomed to it. It seemed too remote to be terrible, and her reliance
+upon Pierre's good faith increased daily. Somehow, unaccountably, she
+had wholly ceased to regard him as an enemy. Possibly her fears and even
+her antagonism were only dormant, but at least they did not torment her.
+She did not start at the sound of his voice, or shrink from the straight
+regard of those hard eyes. She knew by that instinct that cannot err
+that he meant to keep his word.
+
+They left the regions of endless summer behind at last, and the cooler
+breezes of the north swept the long, blue ridges over which they
+travelled. They came into a more frequented, less dreamlike sea, but
+though many vessels passed them, they were seldom near enough for
+greeting. And Stephanie came to understand that it was not Pierre's
+desire to hold much converse with the outer world. Yet she knew that
+they were heading straight for England, and their isolation was bound
+ere long to come to an end.
+
+It was summer weather even in England just then, summer weather in the
+blue Atlantic, summer everywhere. She spent many hours of each day in a
+sheltered corner of the deck, watching the leaping waves, green and
+splendid, racing from the keel. And a strange content was hers while she
+watched, born of the unwonted peace which of late had wrapped her round.
+She was as one come into safe harbourage after long and futile tossing
+upon the waters of strife. She did not question her security. She only
+knew that it was there.
+
+But one day there came a change--a grey sky and white-capped waves.
+Suddenly and inexplicably, as is the way of the northern climate, the
+sunshine was withdrawn, the summer weather departed, and there came
+desolation.
+
+Stephanie's corner on deck was empty. She crouched below, ill, shivering
+with cold and wretchedness. All day long she listened to the howling
+wind and pitiless, lashing rain, rising above the sullen roar of the
+waves. All day long the vessel pitched and tossed, flinging her back and
+forth while she clung in desperation to the edge of her berth.
+
+Pierre waited upon her from time to time, but he could do little to
+relieve her discomfort, and he left her for the most part alone.
+
+As evening drew on, the gale increased, and Stephanie, lying in her
+cabin, could hear the great waves breaking over the deck with a violence
+that grew more awful with every moment. Her nerves began to give way
+under the strain. It was a long while since Pierre had been near her,
+and the loneliness appalled her.
+
+She could endure it no longer at last, and arose with a wild idea of
+going on deck. The narrow walls of her cabin had become unendurable.
+
+With difficulty, grabbing at first one thing, then another for support,
+she made her way to the saloon. The place was empty, but a single lamp
+burned steadily by the door that led to the companion, and guided her
+halting steps.
+
+The floor was at a steep upward angle when she started, but before she
+had accomplished half the distance it plunged suddenly downwards, and
+she was flung forward against the table. Bruised and frightened, she
+dragged herself up, reached the farther door at a run, only to fall once
+more against it.
+
+Here she lay for a little, half-stunned, till that terrible slow
+upheaval began again. Then, with a sharp effort, she recalled her
+scattered senses and struggled up, clinging to the handle. Slowly she
+mounted, slowly, slowly, till her feet began to slip down that awful
+slant. Then at the last moment, when she thought she must fall headlong,
+there came that fearful plunge again, and she knew that the yacht was
+deep in the trough of some gigantic wave.
+
+The loneliness was terrible. It seemed like the forerunner of
+annihilation. She felt that whatever the danger on deck, it must be
+easier to face than this fearful solitude. And so at last, in a brief
+lull, she opened the door.
+
+A great swirl of wind and water dashed down upon her on the instant. The
+lamp behind her flickered and went out, but there was another at the
+head of the steps to light her halting progress, and, clinging with both
+hands to the rail, she began to ascend.
+
+The uproar was deafening. It deprived her of the power to think. But she
+no longer felt afraid. She found this limbo of howling desolation
+infinitely preferable to the awful loneliness of her cabin. Slowly and
+with difficulty she made her way.
+
+She had nearly reached the top when a man's figure in streaming oilskins
+sprang suddenly into the opening. Above the storm she heard a hoarse
+yell of warning or of anger, she knew not which, and the next instant
+Pierre was beside her, holding her imprisoned against the hand-rail to
+which she clung.
+
+She stood up and faced him, still gripping the rail.
+
+"Take me on deck!" she cried to him. "I shall not be afraid."
+
+She had flung her cloak about her, but the hood had blown back from her
+head, and her hair hung loose. Pierre looked at her in stern silence,
+holding her fast. She fancied he was displeased with her for leaving the
+cabin, and she reiterated her earnest request that he would suffer her
+to come up just for a little to breathe the fresh air.
+
+"It is so horrible below," she told him. "It frightens me."
+
+Pierre was frowning heavily.
+
+"Do you think you would not be my first care?" he demanded, bracing
+himself as the vessel plunged to support her with greater security.
+
+She did not answer. There was a touch of ferocity in the question that
+silenced her. The pitching of the yacht threw her against him the next
+moment, and her feet slipped from beneath her.
+
+Unconsciously almost she turned and clung to the arms that held her up.
+They tightened about her to a grip that made her gasp for breath. He
+lifted her back to the foothold she had lost. His face was more grimly
+set than she had ever seen it.
+
+She wondered if he was secretly afraid. For they seemed to be sinking
+down, down, down into the depths of destruction, and only his close
+holding kept her where she was.
+
+She thought that they were going straight to the bottom, and
+involuntarily her clinging hands held faster. Involuntarily, too, she
+raised her eyes to his, seeking, as the human soul is bound to seek, for
+human comradeship in face of mortal danger.
+
+But the next instant she knew that no thought of danger was in his mind,
+or if it existed it was obscured by something infinitely greater.
+
+His eyes saw her and her only. The fierce flame of his passion blazed
+down upon her, searing its terrible way to her soul, dazzling her,
+hypnotising her, till she could see nought else, could feel nought but
+the burning intensity of the fire that had kindled so suddenly about
+her.
+
+A dart of wild dismay went through her as keen as physical pain, but in
+a moment it was gone. For though he held her caught against his breast
+and covered her face with kisses that seemed to scorch her, it was not
+fear that she felt so much as a gasping wonder that she was unafraid.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+When Pierre let her go, she fell, half-fainting, against the rail, and
+must have sunk at his feet had he not sharply stooped and lifted her.
+Profiting by a brief lull in the tempest, he bore her down the steps and
+into the dark saloon. She lay quite passive in his arms, dazed,
+exhausted, but still curiously devoid of fear.
+
+He laid her upon a cushioned locker by the wall, and relighted the lamp.
+Then, in utter silence, he carried her to her cabin beyond and left her
+there. She had a single glimpse of his face as he turned away, and it
+seemed to her that she had looked upon the face of a man in torture. He
+went away without a word, and she was left alone.
+
+And so for hours she lay, unmindful of the storm, regardless utterly of
+aught that happened, lying with wide eyes and burning cheeks, conscious
+only of that ever-growing wonder that was not fear.
+
+At dawn the wind abated and the yacht began to pitch less. When the sun
+had been up for a few hours, the gale of the night was a thing of the
+past, and only the white-capped waves were left as a laughing reminder
+of the storm that had passed over.
+
+The day was brilliant, and Stephanie arose at length with a feeling that
+she must go up into the sunshine and face the future. The thought of
+meeting Pierre even could not ultimately detain her below, though it
+kept her there considerably longer than usual. After all, was she not
+bound to meet him? Of what use was it to shirk the inevitable?
+
+But when she finally entered the saloon, he was not there. The table was
+laid for breakfast, and a sailor was at hand to serve her. But of Pierre
+there was no sign. He evidently had no intention of joining her.
+
+She made no inquiry for him, but as soon as the meal was over she took
+her cloak and prepared to go on deck. With nervous haste she passed the
+scene of the previous night's encounter. She almost expected to find
+Pierre waiting for her at the top of the companion, but she looked for
+him in vain. And even when she finally stepped upon the deck and crossed
+to the rail that she might search the whole length of the yacht, she
+could not discover him.
+
+A vague uneasiness began to trouble her. The suspense was hard to bear.
+She longed to meet him and have done with it.
+
+But she longed in vain. All through the sunny hours of the morning she
+sat or paced in solitude. No one came near her till her breakfast
+attendant appeared with another meal.
+
+By the end of the afternoon she was thoroughly miserable. She longed
+intensely to inquire for the yacht's master, yet could not bring herself
+to do so. Eventually it began to rain, and she went below and sat in the
+saloon, trying, quite ineffectually, to ease her torment of suspense
+with a book. But she comprehended nothing of what she read, and when the
+young cabin steward appeared again to set the dinner she looked up in
+desperation.
+
+She was on the point of questioning him as to his master's whereabouts;
+the question, indeed, was already half uttered, when her eyes went
+beyond him and she broke off short.
+
+Pierre himself was quietly entering through the companion door.
+
+He bowed to her in his abrupt way, and signed to the lad to continue his
+task.
+
+"He understands no English," he said. "You do not object to his
+presence?"
+
+She replied in the negative, though in her heart she wished he had
+dismissed him. She could not meet his eyes before a third person. It
+added tenfold to her embarrassment.
+
+But when he seated himself near her, she did venture a fleeting glance
+at him, and was amazed unspeakably by what she saw. For his face was
+haggard and drawn like the face of a sick man, and every hint of
+arrogance was gone from his bearing. He looked beaten.
+
+He began to speak at once, jerkily, unnaturally, almost as if he also
+were embarrassed. "I have something to say to you," he said, "which I
+beg you will hear with patience. It concerns your future--and mine."
+
+The strangeness of his manner, his obvious dejection, the amazing
+humility of his address, combined to endue Stephanie with a composure
+she had scarcely hoped to attain.
+
+She found herself able to look at him quite steadily, and did so. It was
+he who--for the first time in her recollection--avoided her eyes.
+
+"What is it, Monsieur Dumaresq?" she asked quietly.
+
+His hands were gripped upon the arms of his chair. He seemed to be
+holding himself there by force.
+
+"Just this," he said. "I find that your estimate is after all the
+correct one. You have always regarded me as a blackguard, and a
+blackguard I am. I am not here to apologise for it, simply to
+acknowledge my mistake, for, strange as it will seem to you, I took
+myself for something different. At least when I gave you my word I
+thought I was capable of keeping it. Well, it is broken, and, that being
+so, I can no longer hold you to yours. Do you understand, Mademoiselle
+Stephanie? You are a free woman."
+
+For an instant he looked at her, and an odd thrill of pity ran through
+her for his humiliation.
+
+She said nothing. She had no words in which to express herself.
+Moreover, her eyes were suddenly full of unaccountable tears. She could
+not have trusted her voice.
+
+After a moment he resumed. "There is only one thing left to say. In two
+days we shall be in British waters. I will land you wherever you wish.
+But you shall not go from me to earn your own living. You will
+accept--you shall accept"--she heard the stubborn note she had come to
+know so well in his voice--"sufficient from me to make you independent
+for the rest of your life. Yes, from me, mademoiselle!" He looked her
+straight in the eyes with something of his old arrogance. "You can
+refuse, of course. No doubt you will refuse. But I can compel you. If
+you will not have it as a gift, you shall have it as--a bequest."
+
+He ceased, but he continued to sit with his eyes upon her, ready, she
+knew, to beat down any and every objection she might raise.
+
+She did not speak. She was for the moment too much surprised for speech;
+but as his meaning dawned upon her, something that was greater than
+either surprise or pity took possession of her, holding her silent. She
+only, after several moments, rose and stood with her face turned from
+him, watching through the porthole the waves that leaped by, all green
+and amber, in the light of sunset.
+
+"You understand me clearly, Mademoiselle Stephanie?" he asked at length,
+in a voice that came harshly through the silence.
+
+She moved slightly, but she did not turn.
+
+"I have never understood you, monsieur," she made answer, her voice very
+low.
+
+He jerked his shoulders impatiently.
+
+"At least you understand me on this point," he said curtly.
+
+She was silent. At length:
+
+"But you do not understand me," she said.
+
+"Better than you fancy, mademoiselle," he answered bitterly. "I do not
+think your feelings where I am concerned have ever been very
+complicated."
+
+Again slightly she moved without looking round.
+
+"I wish you would tell your man to go," she said.
+
+"Mademoiselle?" There was a note of surprise in the query.
+
+"Tell him to go!" she reiterated, with nervous vehemence.
+
+There fell an abrupt silence. Then she heard an imperious snap of the
+fingers from Pierre, followed instantly by the steward's retiring
+footsteps.
+
+She waited till she heard them no longer, then slowly she turned. Pierre
+had not moved from his chair. He was gripping the arms as before. She
+stood with her back to the light, thankful for the dimness that obscured
+her face.
+
+"I--I have something to say to you, monsieur," she said.
+
+"I am listening, mademoiselle," he responded briefly, not raising his
+eyes.
+
+"Ah, but you must help me," she said, and her voice shook a little.
+"It--it is no easy thing that I have to say."
+
+He made a fierce movement of unrest.
+
+"How can I help you? I have given you your freedom. What more can I do?"
+
+"You can spare me a moment's kindness," she answered gently. "You may be
+angry with yourself, but you need not be angry with me also."
+
+"I am not angry with you," he responded half sullenly. "But I can bear
+no trifling, I warn you. I am not my own master. If you wish to secure
+yourself from further insult, you will be wise to leave me alone."
+
+"And if not?" she questioned slowly. "If--for instance--I do not feel
+myself insulted by what happened last night?"
+
+He glanced up at that so suddenly that she felt as if something pierced
+her.
+
+"Then," he rejoined harshly, "you are a very strange woman, Mademoiselle
+Stephanie."
+
+"I begin to think I am," she said, with a rather piteous smile. "Yet,
+for all that, I will not be trifled with either. A compact such as ours
+can only be cancelled by mutual consent. I think you are rather inclined
+to forget that."
+
+"Meaning?" said Pierre abruptly.
+
+She drew a sharp breath. Her heart was beating very fast.
+
+"Meaning," she said, "meaning that I do not--and I will not--agree to
+your proposal; that if I accept my freedom from you, it will be because
+you force me to do so, and I will take nothing else--do you
+hear?--nothing else, either as a gift or as a bequest. You may compel me
+to accept my freedom--against my will; but nothing else, I swear--I
+swear!"
+
+Her voice broke suddenly. She pressed her hands against her throat,
+striving to control her agitation. But she might as well have striven to
+contend with the previous night's storm; for it shook her, from head to
+foot it shook her, as a tree is shaken by the tempest.
+
+As for Pierre, before her words were fairly uttered he had leapt to his
+feet. His hands were clenched. He looked almost as if he would strike
+her.
+
+"What do you mean?" he thundered.
+
+She could not answer, but still she did not flinch. She only threw out
+her hands and set them against his breast, holding him from her. Whether
+or not her eyes spoke for her she never knew, but he became suddenly
+rigid at her touch, standing motionless, waiting for her with a patience
+she found well-nigh incredible.
+
+"Tell me," he said at last, and in his voice restraint and passion were
+strangely mingled, "what is it you are trying to make me understand? In
+Heaven's name don't be afraid!"
+
+"I am not," she whispered back breathlessly, "believe me, I am not. But,
+oh, Pierre, it's so hard for a woman to tell a man what is in her heart
+when--when she doesn't even know that he cares to hear."
+
+"Stephanie!" he said. He unclenched his hands, and slowly, very slowly,
+took her quivering wrists. His eyes would have searched hers, but she
+was looking at him no longer. Her head was bent. She was crying softly,
+like a child that has been frightened.
+
+"Stephanie!" he said again.
+
+She made a little movement towards him, hesitated a moment, then went
+close and hid her face against his breast.
+
+"Oh, do make it easy for me!" she entreated brokenly. "Do--do try to
+understand!"
+
+His arms closed about her. He held her tensely against his heart, so
+that she heard the wild tumult of its beating. But he said nothing
+whatever. He waited for her still.
+
+And so at last she found strength to turn her face a little upwards and
+whisper his name.
+
+"Pierre!" And then, with more assurance, "Pierre, it is true I haven't
+much to offer you. But such as it is--such as it is--and you asked for
+it once, remember--will you not take it?"
+
+"Meaning?" he said again, and his voice was hoarse and low. It seemed to
+come through closed lips.
+
+"Meaning," she answered him quickly and passionately, "that
+revolutionist as you have been, tyrant as you are, you have managed
+somehow to bind me to you. Oh, I was a fool--a fool--not to marry you
+long ago at Maritas even though I hated you. I might have known that you
+would conquer me in the end."
+
+"Has it come to that?" said Pierre, and there was a queer break in his
+voice that might have been laughter. "And have you never asked yourself
+what made me a revolutionist--and a tyrant?"
+
+"Never," she murmured.
+
+"Must I tell you?" he said. "Will you believe me if I do?"
+
+She turned her face fully to him, no longer fearing to meet that
+piercing scrutiny before which she had so often quailed. "Was it for my
+sake?" she said.
+
+He met her look with eyes that gleamed as steel gleams in red firelight.
+
+"How else could I have saved you?" he said. "How else could I have been
+in time?"
+
+"Oh, but you should have told me!" she said. "You should have told me!"
+
+"And if I had," said Pierre, "would you have hated me less? Do you hate
+me the less now that you know it?"
+
+She was silent.
+
+"Tell me, Stephanie," he persisted.
+
+Her eyes fell before his.
+
+"Have I ever hated you?" she said, her voice very low.
+
+"If I did not make you hate me last night," he said, "then you never
+have."
+
+"And I never shall," she supplemented under her breath.
+
+"That," said Pierre, "is another matter. You forget that I am a
+blackguard."
+
+Again she heard in his voice that sound that might have been laughter.
+It thrilled her strangely, seeming in some fashion to convey a message
+that was beyond words. She turned in his arms, responding instinctively,
+and clung closely to him.
+
+"I forget everything," she told him very earnestly, "except that
+to-morrow--or the next day--you will be--my husband."
+
+His arms grew tense about her. She felt his breathing quicken.
+
+"Be careful!" he muttered. "Be careful! Remember, I am not to be
+trusted."
+
+But she answered him with that laughter that is without fear and more
+intimate than speech.
+
+"All that is over," she said, and lifted her face to his. And then, more
+softly, in a voice that quivered and broke, "I trust you with my whole
+heart. And Pierre--my Pierre--you will never again--kiss me--against my
+will!"
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                          Where the Heart Is
+
+
+
+
+"Of course, I know that a quiet, well-meanin' fool like myself hasn't
+much of a chance with women, but I just thought I'd give you the
+opportunity of refusin' me, and then we should know where we were."
+
+It was leisurely uttered, and without any hint of agitation. The speaker
+was lying on his back at the end of a long, green lawn. His hat was over
+the upper part of his face, leaving only his mouth visible. It was a
+singularly kindly mouth. Some critics called it weak, though there was
+no sign of nervousness about it. The clean lips made their statement
+without faltering, and without apparent effort, and, having spoken,
+relaxed into a faint smile that was pleasantly devoid of
+self-consciousness.
+
+The girl at whose side he lay listened with a slight frown between her
+eyes. She was quivering inwardly with embarrassment, but she would have
+died sooner than have betrayed it. The shyest child found it hard to be
+shy with Tots Waring. His full name was Tottenham, but nobody dreamed of
+using it. From his cradle onwards he had been Tots to all who knew him.
+His proposal was followed by a very decided pause. Then, still frowning,
+the girl spoke.
+
+"Is it a joke?"
+
+"Never made a joke in my life," said Tots.
+
+"Then why don't you do it properly?"
+
+There was a decided touch of irritation in the question. The girl was
+leaning slightly forward, her hands clasped round her knee. Her black
+brows looked decidedly uncompromising, and there was a faintly
+contemptuous twist about her upper lip.
+
+"Don't be vexed!" pleaded Tots. "I suppose you know by experience how
+these things are managed, but I don't. You see, it's my first attempt."
+
+Unwillingly, as it were in spite of itself, the contemptuous curve
+became a very small smile. The girl's dark eyes dwelt for several
+seconds upon that portion of her suitor's countenance that was visible
+under the linen hat. There was a wonderful serenity about the mouth and
+chin she studied. They did not look in the least as if their owner were
+taking either himself or her seriously. Her own lips tightened a little,
+and a sudden gleam shot up behind her black lashes--a gleam that had in
+it an elusive glint of malice. She suffered her eyes to pass beyond him
+and to rest upon a distant line of firs. The man stretched out beside
+her remained motionless.
+
+"Why," she said at last, with slight hesitation, "should you take it for
+granted that I should refuse you?"
+
+"Eh?" said Tots. He stirred languidly, and removed the hat from his
+face, but he still maintained his easy attitude. He had heavy-lidded
+eyes, upon the colour of which most people disagreed--eyes that never
+appeared critical, and yet were somehow not wholly in keeping with the
+kindly, half-whimsical mouth. "I'm not takin' it for granted," he said.
+"I only think it likely. You see, all I have to go upon is this: Every
+one hereabouts is gettin' married or engaged, except you and me. That,
+of course, is all right for them, but it isn't precisely excitin' for
+us. I thought it might be more fun for both of us if we did the same. At
+least, I thought I'd find out your opinion about it, and act
+accordin'ly. If we don't see alike about it, of course, there's no more
+to be said. We'll just go on as we were before, and hope that somethin'
+else nice will turn up soon."
+
+"To relieve our mutual boredom!" The girl's laugh sounded rather hard.
+"Don't you think," she asked, after a moment, "that we should bore each
+other even worse if we got engaged?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know!" Tots laughed too--an easy, tolerant laugh. "Could
+but try, eh?" he suggested. "I'm tired of this everlastin' lookin' on."
+
+"So am I--horribly tired." The girl rose suddenly, with a movement
+curiously vehement.
+
+"But I shouldn't have thought you'd care," she said, with a touch of
+bitterness. "I should have thought a bovine existence suited you."
+
+Tots sat up deliberately and put on his hat. His manner betrayed no
+resentment.
+
+"Really?" he said, with his pleasant smile. "You see, one never knows."
+
+He reached up a hand to her, and, wondering a little at herself, she
+gave him her own to assist him to rise.
+
+He got to his feet and stood before her--a loose-limbed, awkward figure
+that towered above her, making her feel rather small.
+
+"It's done, then, is it?" he questioned, still keeping her hand in his.
+
+She looked up at him with a nervous laugh. Secretly she was wondering
+how far he was going to carry the joke.
+
+"Why, of course," she said. "Can you imagine any sane woman refusing
+such a magnificent offer?"
+
+Though she suffered that ring of mockery in her voice, she was still
+thinking as she spoke that it would serve him right if she frightened
+him well by letting him imagine that she was taking him seriously.
+
+"Good!" said Tots, in the tone of one well pleased with his bargain. "It
+shall be my business to see that you do not regret it."
+
+And with the words he drew her hand through his arm, laughing back at
+her with baffling complacence, and led her down the long lawn with the
+air of one who had taken possession.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ruth Carey had been accustomed to fend for herself nearly all her life.
+Her lot had been cast in a very narrow groove, and it had not contained
+a single gleam of romance to make it beautiful. The whole of her early
+girlhood had been spent buried in a country vicarage, utterly out of
+touch with all the rest of the world. Here she had lived with her
+grandfather, leading a wild and free existence, wholly independent of
+society, hewing, as it were, a way for herself in a desert that was very
+empty and almost unthinkably barren.
+
+Then, when she was eight-and-twenty, a silent, curiously undeveloped
+woman, the inevitable change had come. Her grandfather had died, and she
+had gone out at last beyond the sky-line of her desert into the crowded
+thoroughfares of men.
+
+The gay crowd of cousins with whom she made her home found her
+unattractive, and took no special pains to discover further. They were
+all younger than she was, and full to the brim of their own various
+interests. Of the five girls, three were already engaged, and one was on
+the eve of marriage.
+
+It was at this juncture that Tots had lounged into Ruth's consideration
+and proposed himself as a candidate for her favour.
+
+Tots was a familiar friend of the family. Every one liked him in a
+tolerant, joking sort of way. No one took him seriously. He was to act
+as best man at the forthcoming wedding, being a near friend and the host
+of the bridegroom.
+
+Uniformly kind to man and beast, he had made himself lazily pleasant to
+the unattractive cousin. Circumstance had thrown them a good deal
+together, and he had not quarrelled with circumstance. He had acquiesced
+with a smile.
+
+He made it appear in some fashion absurd that they should not at least
+be friends, and then, having gained that much, he astounded her by
+proposing to her. It was a preposterous situation. Having at length
+freed herself from him, she escaped to the house to review it with
+burning cheeks. It was nothing but a joke, of course--of course, however
+he might repudiate the fact, and she resented it with all her might. She
+would teach him that such jokes were not to be played upon her with
+impunity. She had no one to defend her from this species of insult. She
+would defend herself. She would fool him as he sought to fool her.
+
+But there was a yet more painful ordeal in store for her that night in
+the billiard-room, had she but known it. The morrow's bridegroom, Fred
+Danvers, having failed to execute an easy shot, some one accused him of
+possessing shaky nerves.
+
+"You'll never get through to-morrow if you can't do an easy thing like
+that," was the laughing remark.
+
+Tots looked up.
+
+"Oh, rot! The bridegroom has no business to suffer with the jumps.
+That's the best man's privilege. He does all the work, and has all the
+responsibility. Why, I'm shakin' in my shoes whenever I think of
+to-morrow, but if it were my own weddin' I shouldn't turn a hair."
+
+Young Danvers guffawed at this.
+
+"Bet you'll turn the colour of this table when the time comes, if it
+ever does come, which I doubt!"
+
+"Why?" questioned Tots.
+
+Danvers laughed again, enjoying the joke. Tots was always more or less
+of a butt to his friends.
+
+"In the first place, you'd never have the courage or the energy to
+propose. In the second, no girl would ever take you seriously. In the
+third--"
+
+He broke off, struck silent by a wholly unexpected display of energy on
+the part of Tots, who had suddenly hurled a piece of chalk at him from
+the other end of the room. It hit him smartly on the shoulder, leaving a
+white patch to testify to the excellence of Tots's aim.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said Tots mildly. "But you really shouldn't talk
+such rot, particularly in the presence of my _fiancée_."
+
+He turned round to Ruth, who was shrinking into a corner behind him, and
+with a courtly gesture drew her forward.
+
+"In the first place," he said, addressing the assembled company with a
+good-humoured smile, "I had the courage and the energy to propose only
+this afternoon. In the second place, this lady did me the inestimable
+favour of takin' me seriously. And in the third place, we're goin' to
+get married as soon as possible."
+
+In the astounded silence that followed these announcements, he stooped,
+with no exaggeration of reverence, and kissed the icy, trembling hand he
+held.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ruth never knew afterwards how she came through those terrible moments.
+She was as one horror-stricken into acquiescence. She scarcely heard the
+nightmare buzz of congratulation all about her. The only thing of which
+she was vividly conscious, over and above her dumb anguish of
+consternation, was the fast grip of Tots's hand. It seemed to hold her
+up, to sustain her, while the very soul of her was ready to faint with
+dismay.
+
+She did not even remember later how she effected her escape at last, but
+she had a vague impression that Tots managed it for her. It was all very
+dreadful and incomprehensible. She felt as if she were suddenly caught
+in a trap from which there could never be any escape. And she was
+terrified beyond all reason.
+
+All the night she lay awake, turning the matter over and over, but in
+every respect it presented to her a problem too complicated for her
+solution. When morning came she was tired out physically and mentally,
+conscious only of an ardent desire to flee from her perplexities.
+
+Her cousin's wedding occupied the minds of all, and she spent the
+earlier hours in comparative peace in the bustle of preparation. She saw
+nothing of Tots, and she hoped his responsibilities would keep him too
+busy to spare her any of his attention.
+
+Vain hope! When she went to her room to don her bridesmaid's dress, she
+found a small parcel awaiting her. With a sinking heart, she opened it,
+a jeweller's box with a strip of paper wound about it. The paper
+contained a message in four words: "With love from Tots."
+
+A wild tumult arose within her, and her fingers shook so that she could
+scarcely remove the lid of the box. Succeeding at length, she stood
+motionless, staring with wide, scared eyes at the ring that lay shining
+in the sunlight, as though she beheld some evil charm. The diamonds
+flashed in her eyes and dazzled her, making her see nothing but tiny
+pin-points of intolerable light. Her heart thumped and raced as though
+it would choke her. Unconsciously she gasped for breath. That ring was
+to her another bar in the door of her prison-house.
+
+At an urgent call from one of her cousins, she started and almost threw
+the box, with its contents, into a drawer. Feverishly she began to
+dress. It was much later than she had realised. When she appeared in the
+hall with the other bridesmaids, some one remarked upon her deathly
+pallor, but she shrank away behind the bride, anxious only to screen
+herself from observation. She would have given all she had to have
+avoided Tots just then, but there was no escape for her. He was in the
+church-porch as she entered it, though there was no time for more than a
+hurried hand-clasp.
+
+The church was very hot, and the crush of guests great. She listened to
+the marriage service as a prisoner might listen to his death sentence.
+The irrevocability of it was anguish to her tortured imagination. And
+all the while she was conscious--vividly, terribly conscious--of Tots's
+presence, Tots's inscrutable scrutiny, Tots's triumph of possession. He
+would never let her go, she felt. She was his beyond all dispute. He had
+asked, and she had bestowed, not understanding what she was doing.
+
+There could be no withdrawal now. She could not picture herself asking
+for it, and she was sure he would not grant it if she did. He would only
+laugh.
+
+There fell a sudden silence in the church--a curious, unnatural silence.
+It seemed to be growing very dark, and she wondered, panting, if it were
+the darkness that so smothered her. With a sharp movement she lifted her
+face, gasping as a half-drowned person gasps. And everywhere above,
+around her, were tiny, dancing points of light.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"That's better," said Tots. "Don't be frightened. It's all right."
+
+He rubbed her cheek softly, reassuringly, and then fell to chafing her
+weak hands. Ruth lay back against a grave-mound and stared at him. He
+was wonderfully gentle with her, almost like a woman. On her other side
+one of her fellow bridesmaids was stooping over her, holding a glass of
+water.
+
+"You fainted from the heat," she explained. "But you are better now. I
+shouldn't go back if I were you. It's just over."
+
+With a sense of shame Ruth withdrew her hand from Tots.
+
+"I'm sorry," she murmured.
+
+"Nonsense!" said Tots kindly. "Nobody's blamin' you, my child. It's this
+infernal heat. You stay quietly here for a bit. I must go back and see
+that Danvers signs his name all right. But I'll come and fetch you
+afterwards."
+
+He departed, and Ruth suddenly realised an urgent need for solitude. She
+turned to her cousin.
+
+"Do please go! I shall be all right. It is cool and shady here. And they
+will be looking for you in the vestry. Please go! I will wait till--Tots
+comes back."
+
+Her cousin demurred a little, but it was obvious that her inclination
+fell in with Ruth's request, and it was also quite obvious that Ruth did
+not want her. So, after some persuasion, she yielded and went.
+
+During the interval that followed, Ruth sat in the quiet corner just out
+of sight of the vestry door, bracing herself to meet Tots and implore
+him to set her free. It was a bad quarter of an hour for her, and when,
+at the end of it, Tots came, she looked on the verge of fainting again.
+
+"Sorry I couldn't come before," said Tots. "But my responsibilities are
+over now, thank the gods. I suppose, now, you didn't have time for
+anything to eat before you came?"
+
+This was the actual truth. Ruth owned it with a feeling of guilt. And
+suddenly she found that she could not speak then. There was something
+that made it impossible. Perhaps it was the loud clash of the bells
+overhead.
+
+"I am very sorry," she said again.
+
+Tots smiled.
+
+"You must manage better at our own weddin'," he said. "There's nothin'
+like fortifyin' yourself with a good substantial meal for an ordeal of
+this sort. You're feelin' better, eh? Take my arm."
+
+She obeyed him, still quivering with her fruitless effort to tell him of
+the miserable deception she had unintentionally practised upon him. She
+had a feeling that, if she made him angry, the world itself would stop.
+Surely no one had ever found Tots formidable before.
+
+At the touch of his hand upon hers, she started.
+
+"What's wrong with it?" queried Tots softly. "Doesn't it fit?"
+
+She glanced up in confusion. She was trembling so that she could
+scarcely stand. He slipped his arm about her reassuringly, comfortably.
+
+"Never mind. We must look at it together. I'll take it back if it isn't
+right. We'll go through the church, shall we? It's the shortest way."
+
+He led her, unresisting, back into the building, and the clamour of the
+bells merged into the swelling chords of the organ. As they walked side
+by side down the empty aisle the strains of Mendelssohn's Wedding March
+transformed their progress into a triumphant procession, and Tots looked
+down into the girl's face with a smile....
+
+There was no help for it. She could not tell him to his face. Gradually
+the conviction dawned upon her through another night of racking thought.
+And there was only one thing left to do. She must go.
+
+Soon after sunrise she was up, and writing a note to her aunt. She
+experienced small difficulty in this. It was quite simple to express her
+thanks for all the kindness shown her, and to explain that she had
+decided to pay a visit to her old home. She scarcely touched upon the
+suddenness of her departure. The Careys were all of them sudden in their
+ways. This move of hers would hardly strike them as extraordinary. She
+was, moreover, so much a stranger among them that it did not seem to
+matter in the face of her great need what they thought.
+
+But a note to Tots was a different matter altogether, and she sat for
+nearly two hours motionless above a sheet of paper, considering. In the
+end she was again overcome by the almost physical impossibility of
+putting the intolerable situation into bald words. Simply, she felt
+utterly incapable of dealing with it. He had told her he was not joking.
+She had believed the contrary in spite of this assurance. And she had
+dared to trifle with him, to treat his offer as a jest.
+
+How could she explain, how apologise, for such a mistake as this? The
+thing was beyond words, and at length she gave up the attempt in
+despair. She would send him back his ring in silence, and perhaps he
+would understand. At least, he would know that she was unworthy of that
+which he had offered her. She took the ring from its hiding-place, and
+once more the sunlight flashed upon its stones. For a space she stood
+gazing fixedly, as one fascinated. And then, suddenly, inexplicably, her
+eyes filled with tears, and she packed up the little box hurriedly with
+fingers that trembled.
+
+She directed the parcel to Tots, and put it aside with the intention of
+posting it herself. A tiny strip of paper on the floor attracted her
+attention as she turned. She picked it up. It was only Tots's simple
+message in four short words. She caught her breath sharply as she
+slipped it into her dress....
+
+Home! Ruth Carey stood in the little inn-parlour that smelt of
+honeysuckle and stale tobacco, and looked across the village street. It
+looked even narrower than in the old days, and the pond on the green had
+shrunk to a mere dark puddle. The old grey church on the hill looked
+like a child's toy, and the quiet that brooded everywhere was the quiet
+of stagnation. An ancient dog was limping down the road--the only living
+thing in sight.
+
+The girl turned from the window with a heavy sigh. She was conscious of
+a great emptiness, of a craving too intense to be silenced, a feverish
+longing that had in it the elements of a bitter despair. She had fled
+from captivity to the desert. But she had not found relief. She had
+escaped indeed. But she was like to perish of starvation in the
+wilderness.
+
+She slept that night from sheer weariness, but, waking in the early
+morning, she lay for hours, listening to the cheery pipings of the
+birds, and wondering what she should do with her life. For there was no
+one belonging to her in a truly intimate sense. She had no near ties.
+There was no one who really wanted her, except--The burning colour
+rushed up to her temples. No; even he did not want her now. And again
+the loneliness and the emptiness seemed more than she could bear.
+
+Dressing, she told herself suddenly and passionately that her
+home-coming had been a miserable farce, a sham, and a delusion. And she
+called bitterly to mind words that she had once either read or heard:
+"Where the heart is, there is home."
+
+The scent of honeysuckle and stale tobacco was mingled with that of
+fried bacon as she opened the door of the inn-parlour. It rushed out to
+greet her in a nauseating wave, and she nearly shut the door again in
+disgust. But the sight of an immense bunch of roses waiting for her on
+the table checked the impulse. She went forward into the room and picked
+it up, burying her face in its fragrance.
+
+There was a tiny strip of paper twisted about one of the stalks which
+she did not at first perceive. When she did, she unfolded it, wondering.
+Four words met her eyes, written in minute characters, and it was as if
+a meteor had flamed suddenly across her sky. They were words that,
+curiously, had never ceased to ring in her brain since the moment she
+had first read them: "With love from Tots."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fully five minutes passed before Ruth crossed the room to the
+honeysuckle-draped window, the roses pressed against her thumping heart.
+Outside, an ancient wooden bench that sagged dubiously in the middle
+stood against a crumbling stone wall. It was a bench greatly favoured by
+aged labourers in the summer evenings, but this morning it had but one
+occupant--a loose-knit, lounging figure with a straw hat drawn well down
+over the eyes, and a pipe thrust between the teeth.
+
+As Ruth gazed upon this negligent apparition, it suddenly moved, and the
+next instant it stood up in the sunshine and faced her, hat in one hand,
+pipe in the other.
+
+"Mornin'" said Tots. "Got somethin' nice for breakfast?" His brown face
+smiled imperturbably upon her. He looked pleased to see her, but not
+extravagantly so.
+
+Ruth fell back a step from the window, her roses clutched fast against
+her. She was for the moment speechless.
+
+Tots continued to smile sociably.
+
+"Nice, quiet little place--this," he said. "There's a touch of the
+antediluvian about it that I like. Good idea of yours, comin' here. No
+one to get in the way. It won't be disturbin' you if I sit on the
+window-sill while you have your breakfast?"
+
+Ruth experienced a sudden, hysterical desire to laugh. He was beyond
+her, this man--utterly, hopelessly beyond her.
+
+She sat down at the table, not with the idea of eating anything, but
+from a sense of sheer helplessness. Tots knocked the ashes from his pipe
+and took his seat on the window-sill. He did not seem to be aware of any
+strain in the situation.
+
+After a pause, during which Ruth sat motionless, he turned a little to
+survey her.
+
+"Not begun yet?" he queried.
+
+She looked back at him with a species of desperate courage.
+
+This sort of thing could not go on. She must be brave for once.
+Unconsciously she was still gripping the roses with both hands.
+
+"Mr. Waring--" she began.
+
+"Tots," he substituted gently.
+
+"Well--Tots," she repeated unwillingly, "I--I want to ask you
+something."
+
+"Fire away!" said Tots.
+
+"I want to know--I want to know--" She stumbled again, and broke off in
+distress.
+
+Tots wheeled round as he sat, and brought his long legs into the room.
+
+"Please don't," she begged hastily. "I--I want you inside."
+
+He did not retire again, nor did he advance.
+
+"You want to know--" he said.
+
+With a stupendous effort she faced and answered him.
+
+"I want to know what made you ask me to marry you."
+
+Tots did not at once reply. He sat on his perch with his back to the
+light, and contemplated her.
+
+"I should have thought a clever little girl like you might have guessed
+that," he said at length.
+
+This was intolerable. She felt her courage ebbing fast.
+
+"I'm not clever," she said, a desperate quiver in her voice, "and I--I'm
+not good at guessing riddles."
+
+In the silence that followed, she wondered wildly if she had made him
+angry at last. Then he spoke in his usual good-natured drawl, and her
+heart gave a great throb of relief.
+
+"I think you're chaffin'," he said.
+
+"I'm not," she assured him feverishly. "I'm not indeed. I always mean
+what I say. That is----"
+
+"Of course," said Tots, with kindly reassurance. "I knew that. Why, my
+dear child, that's just what made me do it. I took a likin' to you for
+that very reason."
+
+She stared at him speechlessly. There was absolutely nothing left to
+say. He really cared for her, it seemed. He really cared! And she? With
+a gasp of despair she abandoned the unequal strife, and hid her face
+from him in an agony of tears. Why, why, why, had this knowledge come to
+her so late?
+
+He was by her side in an instant, stroking, soothing, comforting her, as
+though she had been a child. When she partially recovered herself her
+head was against his shoulder, and he was drying her eyes clumsily but
+tenderly with his own handkerchief.
+
+"There! there!" he said. "Don't cry any more. Some one's been troublin'
+you. Just let me know who it is, and I'll wring his neck."
+
+She raised herself weakly. The desire to laugh quite left her. She
+leaned her head in her hands, and forced down her tears.
+
+"You--don't understand," she said at last.
+
+"Don't I?" said Tots. "Why, I thought we were gettin' on so well."
+
+"I know. I know." She was making a supreme effort. It must be now or
+never. "You have been very good to me. But--but--we never have got on
+really. It was all a mistake."
+
+"What do you mean?" said Tots.
+
+She fancied his tone had changed a little. It sounded somehow brisker
+than usual. He was angry, whispered her panting heart, and if she
+angered him--ah, how should she bear it? But the next instant a big,
+consoling hand pressed her shoulder, and the misgiving passed.
+
+"Don't tremble like this, little one," he said. "You can't be afraid of
+me. No one ever was before. There has been a mistake, you say. What was
+it? Can't you bring yourself to tell me?"
+
+There was something in his voice that moved her strangely, kindling that
+in her which turned her passionate regret to tragedy. Her head sank a
+little lower in her hands. How could she tell him? How could she? Yet he
+must know, even if--even if it transformed his love to hatred. The bare
+thought hurt her intolerably. He was the only friend she had. And
+yet--and yet--he must know. She swallowed a desperate sob, and spoke.
+
+"I've been deceiving you. I've trifled with you. When you proposed to
+me--I didn't know--didn't realise--you were in earnest. No one had ever
+proposed to me before. I didn't understand. And when I accepted you--I
+wasn't in earnest either. I--I was just spiteful. Afterwards--when I
+found out--it was too late. I couldn't tell you then."
+
+The confession went haltingly out into silence. She dared not raise her
+head. Moreover, she was weeping, and she did not want him to know it.
+
+There was a motionless pause. Then at length the hand on her shoulder
+began to rub up and down, comfortingly, caressingly.
+
+"Don't cry!" said Tots. "Hadn't you better have some breakfast? That
+bacon must be gettin' pretty beastly."
+
+He was not angry, then. That was her first thought. And then again came
+that insane desire to laugh. After all, why was she crying? Tots
+apparently saw no cause for discomfiture.
+
+With an effort she controlled herself.
+
+"No; I'm not hungry," she said. "Won't you--please--settle this matter
+now?"
+
+"Only stop cryin'," said Tots. "You have? I say, what a fib! Well, I
+suppose I must take your word for it. Now, little one, what is it you
+want me to do?"
+
+She raised her head in sheer astonishment.
+
+No, there was no trace of anger in his face, neither did it betray any
+disappointment. Complacent, kindly, quizzical, his eyes met hers, and
+her heart gave a sudden, inexplicable bound.
+
+"I--thought you would understand," she faltered. "We--we can't go on
+being engaged, can we?"
+
+"No," said Tots with instant decision. "Shouldn't dream of borin' you to
+that extent. I've had enough of it myself as well." He uttered his
+pleasant, careless laugh. "I really don't wonder that my courtin' made
+you feel spiteful," he said. "I'm glad you're in favour of cuttin' it
+too."
+
+Ruth stared at him blankly. Was he laughing at her? Was this to be her
+punishment?
+
+He had straightened himself and was smiling down at her, his head within
+a foot of the bulging ceiling.
+
+"Tell you what!" he suddenly said. "You eat some breakfast like a good
+girl, and then--I'll show you somethin'. Perhaps you'll let me join
+you?"
+
+He did not wait for her consent, but sat down at the table. Ruth rose.
+He was putting her off, she felt, and she could not bear it. It had cost
+her more than he would ever realise to tell him the truth.
+
+"I'm very sorry," she said unsteadily, "but--I don't think we quite
+understand each other yet. You know"--her voice failed suddenly, but she
+struggled to recover it, and succeeded--"I am not clever--like other
+women. I want plain speaking, not hints, I want to be told--in so many
+words--that you have set me free."
+
+"Why should I tell you what isn't true?" said Tots. He stretched out his
+hand to her without rising. "I haven't set you free," he said, "and I'm
+not goin' to. Is that plain enough?"
+
+He caught her hand with the words and drew her gently towards him. "I'll
+tell you what I am goin' to do," he said. "Come quite close. I want to
+whisper. You needn't be anxious. This chair is strong enough for two."
+
+Gentle as he was in speech and action, there was something irresistible
+about him at that moment--something to which Ruth yielded because there
+was no alternative. She went to him trembling, and he drew her down
+beside him, holding her every instant closer to him.
+
+"Still frightened?" he asked her very tenderly. "Still wantin' to run
+away?"
+
+She hid her face against him dumbly. She could not answer him in words.
+
+He went on speaking, softly, soothingly, as if she had been a child.
+
+"People make a ridiculous fuss about gettin' married," he said. "It's
+the fashion nowadays to make a sort of Punch and Judy show of it for all
+the people one ever met, and a few hundreds besides, to come and gape
+at. But you and I are not goin' to do that. We're goin' to show some
+sense, and get married on the quiet, in a little village church I know
+of; and then we're goin' into retirement for a time, and when we come
+out we shall be old married people, and no one will want to pelt us with
+shoes and things. Now I've got a weddin'-ring in my pocket, and I hope
+it'll fit better than the other. And I've got a special license too.
+It's a nice, fine mornin', isn't it? And that's all we want. Let's have
+some breakfast, and then go and get married!"
+
+Ruth raised her head with a gasp. Unexpected as was the whole turn of
+events, she was utterly unprepared for this astounding suggestion.
+
+"But--but--" she faltered.
+
+And then for the first time she saw Tots's eyes, opened wide and looking
+at her with an expression there was no mistaking. He took her face
+between his hands.
+
+"Yes, I know all that," he said, speaking below his breath. "But it
+doesn't count, dear--believe me, it doesn't. The only thing that is
+really indispensable, we have. So why not--make that do?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know," she gasped. "I don't know."
+
+She was quivering as a harp quivers under the fingers of one who knows,
+and her whole soul was thrilling to the wild, tumultuous music that he
+had called into being there. It was almost more than she could
+bear--this miracle that had been wrought upon her. Tots's eyes still
+held her own, and it was as if thereby he showed her all that was best
+in life.
+
+"Why not?" he said again very softly.
+
+And suddenly she realised overwhelmingly how close his lips were to her
+own. In that moment she also knew that greater thing which is immortal.
+And so she answered him at last in his own words, with a rush of
+passionate willingness that swept away all fear:
+
+"Why not?"
+
+As their lips met, it seemed to her that her eyes were opened for the
+first time in her life; and everywhere--above, around, within her--were
+living sparks, dazzling, wonderful, unquenchable, of the Eternal Flame.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+ETHEL M. DELL'S NOVELS
+
+
+THE LAMP IN THE DESERT
+
+The scene of this splendid story is laid in India and tells of the lamp
+of love that continues to shine through all sorts of tribulations to
+final happiness.
+
+
+GREATHEART
+
+The story of a cripple whose deformed body conceals a noble soul.
+
+
+THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE
+
+A hero who worked to win even when there was only "a hundredth chance."
+
+
+THE SWINDLER
+
+The story of a "bad man's" soul revealed by a woman's faith.
+
+
+THE TIDAL WAVE
+
+Tales of love and of women who learned to know the true from the false.
+
+
+THE SAFETY CURTAIN
+
+A very vivid love story of India. The volume also contains four other
+long stories of equal interest.
+
+
+The Way of an Eagle
+
+The Knave of Diamonds
+
+The Rocks of Valpré
+
+The Swindler
+
+The Keeper of the Door
+
+Bars of Iron
+
+Rosa Mundi
+
+The Top of the World
+
+The Obstacle Race
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWINDLER AND OTHER STORIES***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 18644-8.txt or 18644-8.zip *******
+
+
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+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/6/4/18644
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Swindler 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 = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Swindler and Other Stories</p>
+<p>Author: Ethel M. Dell</p>
+<p>Release Date: June 21, 2006  [eBook #18644]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWINDLER AND OTHER STORIES***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net/)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>THE SWINDLER</h1>
+
+<h3>AND OTHER STORIES</h3>
+
+<h2>BY ETHEL M. DELL</h2>
+
+<h3>AUTHOR OF THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE, ETC.</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h3>GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP PUBLISHERS NEW YORK</h3>
+
+<h3>Made in the United States of America</h3>
+
+<h3>This edition is issued under arrangement with the publishers<br />
+<span class="smcap">G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York and London</span><br />
+The Knickerbocker Press, New York</h3>
+
+
+<h4>The stories contained in this volume were originally published in the
+<i>Red Magazine</i>.</h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. -->
+<p>
+<a href="#The_Swindler"><span class="smcap">The Swindler</span></a><br />
+<a href="#The_Swindlers_Handicap"><span class="smcap">The Swindler's Handicap</span></a><br />
+<a href="#The_Nonentity"><span class="smcap">The Nonentity</span></a><br />
+<a href="#Her_Hero"><span class="smcap">Her Hero</span></a><br />
+<a href="#The_Example"><span class="smcap">The Example</span></a><br />
+<a href="#The_Friend"><span class="smcap">The Friend who Stood By</span></a><br />
+<a href="#The_Right_Man"><span class="smcap">The Right Man</span></a><br />
+<a href="#The_Knight_Errant"><span class="smcap">The Knight Errant</span></a><br />
+<a href="#A_Question_of_Trust"><span class="smcap">A Question of Trust</span></a><br />
+<a href="#Where_the_Heart_Is"><span class="smcap">Where the Heart Is</span></a><br /><br />
+
+<a href="#Ethel_M._Dells_Novels"><span class="smcap">Ethel M. Dell's Novels</span></a><br />
+
+</p>
+<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. -->
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Swindler" id="The_Swindler"></a>The Swindler</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>"When you come to reflect that there are only a few planks between you
+and the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, it makes you feel sort of
+pensive."</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon?"</p>
+
+<p>The stranger, smoking his cigarette in the lee of the deck-cabins,
+turned his head sharply in the direction of the voice. He encountered
+the wide, unembarrassed gaze of a girl's grey eyes. She had evidently
+just come up on deck.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg yours," she rejoined composedly. "I thought at first you were
+some one else."</p>
+
+<p>He shrugged his shoulders, and turned away. Quite obviously he was not
+disposed to be sociable upon so slender an introduction.</p>
+
+<p>The girl, however, made no move to retreat. She stood thoughtfully
+tapping on the boards with the point of her shoe.</p>
+
+<p>"Were you playing cards last night down in the saloon?" she asked
+presently.</p>
+
+<p>"I was looking on."</p>
+
+<p>He threw the words over his shoulder, not troubling to turn.</p>
+
+<p>The girl shivered. The morning air was damp and chill.</p>
+
+<p>"You do a good deal of that, Mr.&mdash;Mr.&mdash;" She paused suggestively.</p>
+
+<p>But the man would not fill in the blank. He smoked on in silence.</p>
+
+<p>The vessel was rolling somewhat heavily, and the splash of the drifting
+foam reached them occasionally where they stood. There were no other
+ladies in sight. Suddenly the clear, American voice broke through the
+man's barrier of silence.</p>
+
+<p>"I know quite well what you are, you know. You may just as well tell me
+your name as leave me to find it out for myself."</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her then for the first time, keenly, even critically. His
+clean-shaven mouth wore a very curious expression.</p>
+
+<p>"My name is West," he said, after a moment.</p>
+
+<p>She nodded briskly.</p>
+
+<p>"Your professional name, I suppose. You are a professional, of course?"</p>
+
+<p>His eyes continued to watch her narrowly. They were blue eyes,
+piercingly, icily blue.</p>
+
+<p>"Why 'of course,' if one may ask?"</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a light, sweet laugh, inexpressibly gay. Cynthia Mortimer
+could be charmingly inconsequent when she chose.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you are a bit clever, you know," she said. "I knew what
+you were directly I saw you standing by the gangway watching the people
+coming on board. You looked really professional then, just as if you
+didn't care a red cent whether you caught your man or not. I knew you
+did care though, and I was ready to dance when I knew you hadn't got
+him. Think you'll track him down on our side?"</p>
+
+<p>West turned his eyes once more upon the heaving, grey water, carelessly
+flicking the ash from his cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think," he said briefly. "I know."</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;know?" The wide eyes opened wider, but they gathered no
+information from the unresponsive profile that smoked the cigarette.
+"You know where Mr. Nat Verney is?" she breathed, almost in a whisper.
+"You don't say! Then&mdash;then you weren't really watching out for him at
+the gangway?"</p>
+
+<p>He jerked up his head with an enigmatical laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"My methods are not so simple as that," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia joined quite generously in his laugh, notwithstanding its hard
+note of ridicule. She had become keenly interested in this man, in spite
+of&mdash;possibly in consequence of&mdash;the rebuffs he so unsparingly
+administered. She was not accustomed to rebuffs, this girl with her
+delicate, flower-like beauty. They held for her something of the charm
+of novelty, and abashed her not at all.</p>
+
+<p>"And you really think you'll catch him?" she questioned, a note of
+honest regret in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you want him to be caught?"</p>
+
+<p>He pitched his cigarette overboard and turned to her with less of
+churlishness in his bearing.</p>
+
+<p>She met his eyes quite frankly.</p>
+
+<p>"I should just love him to get away," she declared, with kindling eyes.
+"Oh, I know he's a regular sharper, and he's swindled heaps of
+people&mdash;I'm one of them, so I know a little about it. He swindled me out
+of five hundred dollars, and I can tell you I was mad at first. But now
+that he is flying from justice, I'm game enough to want him to get away.
+I suppose my sympathies generally lie with the hare, Mr. West. I'm sorry
+if it annoys you, but I was created that way."</p>
+
+<p>West was frowning, but he smiled with some cynicism over her last
+remarks.</p>
+
+<p>"Besides," she continued, "I couldn't help admiring him. He has a
+regular genius for swindling&mdash;that man. You'll agree with me there?"</p>
+
+<p>A sudden heavy roll of the vessel pitched her forward before he could
+reply. He caught her round the waist, saving her from a headlong fall,
+and she clung to him, laughing like a child at the mishap.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I'll have to go below," she decided regretfully. "But you've
+been good to me, and I'm glad I spoke. I've always been somewhat
+prejudiced against detectives till to-day. My cousin Archie&mdash;you saw him
+in the cardroom last night&mdash;vowed you were nothing half so interesting.
+Why is it, I wonder, that detectives always look like journalists?" She
+looked at him with eyes of friendly criticism. "You didn't deceive me,
+you see. But then"&mdash;ingenuously&mdash;"I'm clever in some ways, much more
+clever than you'd think. Now you won't cut me next time we meet, will
+you? Because&mdash;perhaps&mdash;I'm going to ask you to do something for me."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want me to do?"</p>
+
+<p>The man's voice was hard, his eyes cold as steel, but his question had
+in it a shade&mdash;just a shade&mdash;of something warmer than mere curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>She took him into her confidence without an instant's hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>"My cousin Archie&mdash;you may have noticed&mdash;you were looking on last
+night&mdash;he's a very careless player, and headstrong too. But he can't
+afford to lose any, and I don't want him to come to grief. You see, I'm
+rather fond of him."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+
+<p>The man's brows were drawn down over his eyes. His expression was not
+encouraging.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she proceeded, undismayed, "I saw you looking on, and you looked
+as if you knew a few things. So I thought you'd be a safe person to ask.
+I can't look after him; and his mother&mdash;well, she's worse than useless.
+But a man&mdash;a real strong man like you&mdash;is different. If I were to
+introduce you, couldn't you look after him a bit&mdash;just till we get
+across?"</p>
+
+<p>With much simplicity she made her request, but there was a tinge of
+anxiety in her eyes. Certainly West, staring steadily forth over the
+grey waste of tumbling waters, looked sufficiently forbidding.</p>
+
+<p>After several seconds of silence he flung an abrupt question:</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you ask some one else?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is no one else," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>"No one else?" He made a gesture of impatient incredulity.</p>
+
+<p>"No one that I can trust," she explained.</p>
+
+<p>"And you trust me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" Again he looked at her with a piercing scrutiny. His eyes held a
+savage, almost a threatening expression.</p>
+
+<p>But the girl only laughed, lightly and confidently.</p>
+
+<p>"Why? Oh, just because you are trustworthy, I guess. I can't think of
+any other reason."</p>
+
+<p>West's look relaxed, became abstracted, and finally fell away from her.</p>
+
+<p>"You appear to be a lady of some discernment," he observed drily.</p>
+
+<p>She proffered her hand impulsively, her eyes dancing.</p>
+
+<p>"My, that's the first pretty thing you've said to me!" she declared
+flippantly. "I just like you, Mr. West!"</p>
+
+<p>West was feeling for his cigarette case. He gave her his hand without
+looking at her, as if her approbation did not greatly gratify him. When
+she was gone he moved away along the wind-swept deck with his collar up
+to his ears and his head bent to the gale. His conversation with the
+American girl had not apparently made him feel any more sociably
+inclined towards his fellow-passengers.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Certainly, as Cynthia had declared, young Archibald Bathurst was an
+exceedingly reckless player. He lacked the judgment and the cool brain
+essential to a good cardplayer, with the result that he lost much more
+often than he won. But notwithstanding this fact he had a passion for
+cards which no amount of defeat could abate&mdash;a passion which he never
+failed to indulge whenever an opportunity presented itself.</p>
+
+<p>At the very moment when his cousin was making her petition on his behalf
+to the surly Englishman on deck, he was seated in the saloon with three
+or four men older than himself, playing and losing, playing and losing,
+with almost unvarying monotony, yet with a feverish relish that had in
+it something tragic.</p>
+
+<p>He was only three-and-twenty, and, as he was wont to remark, ill-luck
+dogged him persistently at every turn. He never blamed himself when rash
+speculations failed, and he never profited by bitter experience. Simply,
+he was by nature a spendthrift, high-spirited, impulsive, weak, with
+little thought for the future and none at all for the past. Wherever he
+went he was popular. His gaiety and spontaneity won him favour. But no
+one took him very seriously. No one ever dreamed that his ill-luck was a
+cause for anything but mirth.</p>
+
+<p>A good deal of money had changed hands when the party separated to dine,
+but, though young Bathurst was as usual a loser, he displayed no
+depression. Only, as he sauntered away to his cabin, he flung a laughing
+challenge to those who remained:</p>
+
+<p>"See if I don't turn the tables presently!"</p>
+
+<p>They laughed with him, pursuing him with chaff till he was out of
+hearing. The boy was a game youngster, and he knew how to lose.
+Moreover, it was generally believed that he could afford to pay for his
+pleasures.</p>
+
+<p>But a man who met him suddenly outside his cabin read something other
+than indifference upon his flushed face. He only saw him for an instant.
+The next, Archie had swung past and was gone, a clanging door shutting
+him from sight.</p>
+
+<p>When the little knot of cardplayers reassembled after dinner their
+number was augmented. A short, broad-shouldered man, clean-shaven, with
+piercing blue eyes, had scraped acquaintance with one of them, and had
+accepted an invitation to join the play. Some surprise was felt among
+the rest, for this man had till then been disposed to hold aloof from
+his fellow-passengers, preferring a solitary cigarette to any amusements
+that might be going forward.</p>
+
+<p>A New York man named Rudd muttered to his neighbour that the fellow
+might be all right, but he had the eyes of a sharper. The neighbour in
+response murmured the words "private detective" and Rudd was relieved.</p>
+
+<p>Archie Bathurst was the last to arrive, and dropped into the place he
+had occupied all the afternoon. It was immediately facing the stranger,
+whom he favoured with a brief and somewhat disparaging stare before
+settling down to play.</p>
+
+<p>The game was a pure gamble. They played swiftly, and in silence. West
+seemed to take but slight interest in the issue, but he won steadily and
+surely. Young Bathurst, playing feverishly, lost and lost, and lost
+again. The fortunes of the other four players varied. But always the
+newcomer won his ventures.</p>
+
+<p>The evening was half over when Archie suddenly and loudly demanded
+higher stakes, to turn his luck, as he expressed it.</p>
+
+<p>"Double them if you like," said West.</p>
+
+<p>Rudd looked at him with a distrustful eye, and said nothing. The other
+players were disposed to accede to the boy's vehement request, and after
+a little discussion the matter was settled to his satisfaction. The game
+was resumed at higher points.</p>
+
+<p>Some onlookers had drawn round the table scenting excitement. Archie,
+sitting with his back to the wall, was playing with headlong
+recklessness. For a while he continued to lose, and then suddenly and
+most unexpectedly he began to win. A most rash speculation resulted in
+his favour, and from that moment it seemed that his luck had turned.
+Once or twice he lost, but these occasions were far outbalanced by
+several brilliant <i>coups</i>. The tide had turned at last in his favour.</p>
+
+<p>He played as a man possessed, swiftly and feverishly. It seemed that he
+and West were to divide the honours. For West's luck scarcely varied,
+and Rudd continued to look at him askance.</p>
+
+<p>For the greater part of an hour young Bathurst won with scarcely a
+break, till the spectators began to chaff him upon his outrageous
+success.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better stop," one man warned him. "She's a fickle jade, you know,
+Bathurst. Take too much for granted, and she'll desert you."</p>
+
+<p>But Bathurst did not even seem to hear. He played with lowered eyes and
+twitching mouth, and his hands shook perceptibly. The gambler's lust was
+upon him.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll go on all night," murmured the onlookers.</p>
+
+<p>But this prophecy was not to be fulfilled.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very small thing that stemmed the racing current of the boy's
+success&mdash;no more than a slight click audible only to a few, and the
+tinkle of something falling&mdash;but in an instant, swift as a thunderbolt,
+the wings of tragedy swept down upon the little party gathered about the
+table.</p>
+
+<p>Young Bathurst uttered a queer, half-choked exclamation, and dived
+downwards. But the man next to him, an Englishman named Norton, dived
+also, and it was he who, after a moment, righted himself with something
+shining in his hand which he proceeded grimly to display to the whole
+assembled company. It was a small, folding mirror&mdash;little more than a
+toy, it looked&mdash;with a pin attached to its leathern back.</p>
+
+<p>Deliberately Norton turned it over, examining it in such a way that
+others might examine it too. Then, having concluded his investigation of
+this very simple contrivance, he slapped it down upon the table with a
+gesture of unutterable contempt.</p>
+
+<p>"The secret of success," he observed.</p>
+
+<p>Every one present looked at Archie, who had sunk back in his chair white
+to the lips. He seemed to be trying to say something, but nothing came
+of it.</p>
+
+<p>And then, quite calmly, ending a silence more terrible than any tumult
+of words, another voice made itself heard.</p>
+
+<p>"Even so, Mr. Norton." West bent forward and with the utmost composure
+possessed himself of the shining thing upon the table. "This is my
+property. I have been rooking you fellows all the evening."</p>
+
+<p>The avowal was so astounding and made with such complete <i>sang-froid</i>
+that no one uttered a word. Only every one turned from Archie to stare
+at the man who thus serenely claimed his own.</p>
+
+<p>He proceeded with unvarying coolness to explain himself.</p>
+
+<p>"It was really done as an experiment," he said. "I am not a card-sharper
+by profession, as some of you already know. But in the course of certain
+investigations not connected with the matter I now have in hand, I
+picked this thing up, and, being something of a specialist in certain
+forms of cheating, I made up my mind to try my hand at this and prove
+for myself its extreme simplicity. You see how easy it is to swindle,
+gentlemen, and the danger to which you expose yourselves. There is no
+necessity for me to explain the trick further. The instrument speaks for
+itself. It is merely a matter of dexterity, and keeping it out of
+sight."</p>
+
+<p>He held it up a second time before his amazed audience, twisted it this
+way and that, with the air of a conjurer displaying his smartest trick,
+attached it finally to the lapel of his coat, and rose.</p>
+
+<p>"As a practical demonstration it seems to have acted very well," he
+remarked. "And no harm done. If you are all satisfied, so am I."</p>
+
+<p>He collected the notes at his elbow with a single careless sweep of the
+hand, and tossed them into the middle of the table; then, with a brief,
+collective bow, he turned to go. But Rudd, the first to recover from his
+amazement, sprang impetuously to his feet. "One moment, sir!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>West stopped at once, a cold glint of humour in his eyes. Without a sign
+of perturbation he faced round, meeting the American's hostile scrutiny
+calmly, judicially.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish to say," said Rudd, "on behalf of myself, and&mdash;I think I may
+take it&mdash;on behalf of these other gentlemen also, that your action was a
+most dastardly piece of impertinence, to give it its tamest name.
+Naturally, we don't expect Court manners from one of your profession,
+but we do look for ordinary common honesty. But it seems that we look in
+vain. You have behaved like a mighty fine skunk, sir. And if you don't
+see that there's any crying need for a very humble apology, you've got
+about the thickest hide that ever frayed a horsewhip."</p>
+
+<p>Every one was standing by the time this elaborate threat was uttered,
+and it was quite obvious that Rudd voiced the general opinion. The only
+one whose face expressed no indignation was Archie Bathurst. He was
+leaning against the wall, mopping his forehead with a shaking hand.</p>
+
+<p>No one looked at him. All attention was centred upon West, who met it
+with a calm serenity suggestive of contempt. He showed himself in no
+hurry to respond to Rudd's indictment, and when he did it was not
+exclusively to Rudd that he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry," he coolly said, "that you consider yourselves aggrieved by
+my experiment. I do not myself see in what way I have injured you.
+However, perhaps you are the best judges of that. If you consider an
+apology due to you, I am quite ready to apologise."</p>
+
+<p>His glance rested for a second upon Archie, then slowly swept the entire
+assembly. There was scant humility about him, apologise though he might.</p>
+
+<p>Rudd returned his look with open disgust. But it was Norton who replied
+to West's calm defence of himself.</p>
+
+<p>"It is Bathurst who is the greatest loser," he said, with a glance at
+that young man, who was beginning to recover from his agitation. "It was
+a tom-fool trick to play, but it's done. You won't get another
+opportunity for your experiments on board this boat. So&mdash;if Bathurst is
+satisfied&mdash;I should say the sooner you apologise and clear out the
+better."</p>
+
+<p>"We will confiscate this, anyway," declared Rudd, plucking the mirror
+from West's coat.</p>
+
+<p>He flung it down, and ground his heel upon it with venomous intention.
+West merely shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"I apologise," he said briefly, "singly and collectively, to all
+concerned in my experiment, especially"&mdash;he made a slight pause&mdash;"to Mr.
+Bathurst, whose run of luck I deeply regret to have curtailed. If Mr.
+Bathurst is satisfied, I will now withdraw."</p>
+
+<p>He paused again, as if to give Bathurst an opportunity to express an
+opinion. But Archie said nothing whatever. He was staring down upon the
+table, and did not so much as raise his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>West shrugged his shoulders again, ever so slightly, and swung slowly
+upon his heel. In a dead silence he walked away down the saloon. No one
+spoke till he had gone.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>A black, moaning night had succeeded the grey, gusty day. The darkness
+came down upon the sea like a pall, covering the long, heaving swell
+from sight&mdash;a darkness that wrapped close, such a darkness as could be
+felt&mdash;through which the spray drove blindly.</p>
+
+<p>There was small attraction for passengers on deck, and West grimaced to
+himself as he emerged from the heated cabins. Yet it was not altogether
+distasteful to him. He was a man to whom a calm atmosphere meant
+intolerable stagnation. He was essentially born to fight his way in the
+world.</p>
+
+<p>For a while he paced alone, to and fro, along the deserted deck, his
+hands behind him, the inevitable cigarette between his lips. But
+presently he paused and stood still close to the companion by which he
+had ascended. It was sheltered here, and he leaned against the woodwork
+by which Cynthia Mortimer had supported herself that morning, and smoked
+serenely and meditatively.</p>
+
+<p>Minutes passed. There came the sound of hurrying feet upon the stairs
+behind him, and he moved a little to one side, glancing downwards.</p>
+
+<p>The light at the head of the companion revealed a man ascending,
+bareheaded, and in evening dress. His face, upturned, gleamed deathly
+white. It was the face of Archie Bathurst.</p>
+
+<p>West suddenly squared his shoulders and blocked the opening.</p>
+
+<p>"Go and get an overcoat, you young fool!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Archie gave a great start, stood a second, then, without a word, turned
+back and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>West left his sheltered corner and paced forward across the deck. He
+came to a stand by the rail, gazing outwards into the restless darkness.
+There seemed to be the hint of a smile in his intent eyes.</p>
+
+<p>A few more minutes drifted away. Then there fell a step behind him; a
+hand touched his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Can I speak to you?" Archie asked.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly West turned.</p>
+
+<p>"If you have anything of importance to say," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Archie faced him with a desperate resolution.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to ask you&mdash;I want to know&mdash;what in thunder you did it for!"</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?" said West. "Did what?"</p>
+
+<p>He almost drawled the words, as if to give the boy time to control his
+agitation.</p>
+
+<p>Archie stared at him incredulously.</p>
+
+<p>"You must know what I mean."</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't an idea."</p>
+
+<p>There was just a tinge of contempt this time in the words. What an
+unconscionable bungler the fellow was!</p>
+
+<p>"But you must!" persisted Archie, blundering wildly. "I suppose you knew
+what you were doing just now when&mdash;when&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I generally know what I am doing," observed West.</p>
+
+<p>"Then why&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Archie stumbled again, and fell silent, as if he had hurt himself.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't always care to discuss my motives," said West very decidedly.</p>
+
+<p>"But surely&mdash;" Archie suddenly pulled up, realising that by this
+spasmodic method he was making no headway. "Look here, sir," he said,
+more quietly, "you've done a big thing for me to-night&mdash;a dashed fine
+thing! Heaven only knows what you did it for, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I have done nothing whatever for you," said West shortly. "You make a
+mistake."</p>
+
+<p>"But you'll admit&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I admit nothing."</p>
+
+<p>He made as if he would turn on his heel, but Archie caught him by the
+arm.</p>
+
+<p>"I know I'm a cur," he said. And his voice shook a little. "I don't
+wonder you won't speak to me. But there are some things that can't be
+left unsaid. I'm going down now, at once, to tell those fellows what
+actually happened."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you are going to make a big fool of yourself to no purpose," said
+West.</p>
+
+<p>He stood still, scanning the boy's face with pitiless eyes. Archie
+writhed impotently.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't stand it!" he said, with vehemence. "I thought I was blackguard
+enough to let you do it. But&mdash;no doubt I'm a fool, as you say&mdash;I find I
+can't."</p>
+
+<p>"You can't help yourself," said West. He planted himself squarely in
+front of Archie. "Listen to this!" he said. "You know what I am?"</p>
+
+<p>"They say you are a detective," said Archie.</p>
+
+<p>West nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. And, as such, I do whatever suits my purpose without
+explaining why to the rest of the world. If you are fortunate enough to
+glean a little advantage from what I do, take it, and be quiet about it.
+Don't hamper me with your acknowledgments. I assure you I have no more
+concern for your ultimate fate than those fellows below that you've been
+swindling all the evening. One thing I will say, though, for your
+express benefit. You will never make a good, even an indifferently good,
+gambler. And as to card-sharping, you've no talent whatever. Better give
+it up."</p>
+
+<p>His blue eyes looked straight at Archie with a stare that was openly
+supercilious, and Archie stood abashed.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you are awfully good," he stammered at length.</p>
+
+<p>West's brief laugh lived in his memory for long after. It held an
+indescribable sting, almost as if the man resented something. Yet the
+next moment unexpectedly he held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"A matter of opinion," he observed drily. "Good-night! Remember what I
+have said to you."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never forget it," Archie said earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>He wrung the extended hand hard, waited an instant, then, as West turned
+from him with that slight characteristic lift of the shoulders, he moved
+away and went below.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"I'd just like a little talk with you, Mr. West, if I may." Lightly the
+audacious voice arrested him, and, as it were, against his will, West
+stood still.</p>
+
+<p>She was standing behind him in the morning sunshine, her hair blown all
+about her face, her grey eyes wide and daring, full of an alert
+friendliness that could not be ignored. She moved forward with her
+light, free step and stood beside him. West was smoking as usual. His
+expression was decidedly surly. Cynthia glanced at him once or twice
+before she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"You mustn't mind what I'm going to ask you," she said at length gently.
+"Now, Mr. West, what was it&mdash;exactly&mdash;that happened in the saloon last
+night? Surely you'll tell me by myself if I promise&mdash;honest Injun&mdash;not
+to tell again."</p>
+
+<p>"Why should I tell you?" said West, in his brief, unfriendly style.</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia was undaunted. "Because you're a gentleman," she said boldly.</p>
+
+<p>He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what reason I have given you to
+say so."</p>
+
+<p>"No?" She looked at him with a funny little smile. "Well then, I just
+feel it in my bones; and nothing you do or leave undone will make me
+believe the contrary."</p>
+
+<p>"Much obliged to you," said West. His blue eyes were staring straight
+out over the sea to the long, blue sky-line. He seemed too absorbed in
+what he saw to pay much attention to the girl beside him.</p>
+
+<p>But she was not to be shaken off. "Mr. West," she began again, breaking
+in upon his silence, "do you know what they are saying about you
+to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't an idea."</p>
+
+<p>"No," she said. "And I don't suppose you care either. But I care. It
+matters a lot to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't see how," threw in West.</p>
+
+<p>He turned in his abrupt, disconcerting way, and gave her a piercing
+look. She averted her face instantly, but he had caught her unawares.</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens!" he said. "What's the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," she returned, with a sort of choked vehemence. "There's
+nothing the matter with me. Only I'm feeling badly about&mdash;about what I
+asked you to do yesterday. I'd sooner have lost every dollar I have in
+the world, if I had only known, than&mdash;than have you do&mdash;what you did."</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens!" West said again.</p>
+
+<p>He waited a little then, looking down at her as she leaned upon the rail
+with downcast face. At length, as she did not raise her head, he
+addressed her for the first time on his own initiative:</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Mortimer!"</p>
+
+<p>She made a slight movement to indicate that she was listening, but she
+remained gazing down into the green and white of the racing water.</p>
+
+<p>Unconsciously he moved a little nearer to her. "There is no occasion for
+you to feel badly," he said. "I had my own reasons for what I did. It
+doesn't much matter what they were. But let me tell you for your comfort
+that neither socially nor professionally has it done me any harm."</p>
+
+<p>"They are all saying: 'Set a thief to catch a thief,'" she interposed,
+with something like a sob in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"They can say what they like."</p>
+
+<p>West's tone expressed the most stoical indifference, but she would not
+be comforted.</p>
+
+<p>"If only I hadn't&mdash;asked you to!" she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>He made his peculiar, shrugging gesture. "What does it matter? Moreover,
+what you asked of me was something quite apart from this. It had nothing
+whatever to do with it."</p>
+
+<p>She stood up sharply at that, and faced him with burning eyes. "Oh,
+don't tell me that lie!" she exclaimed passionately. "I'm not such a
+child as to be taken in by it. You don't deceive me at all, Mr. West. I
+know as well as you do&mdash;better&mdash;that the man who did the swindling last
+night was not you. And I'm sick&mdash;I'm downright sick&mdash;whenever I think of
+it!"</p>
+
+<p>West's expression changed slightly as he looked at her. He seemed to
+regard her as a doctor regards the patient for whom he contemplates a
+change of treatment.</p>
+
+<p>"See here," he abruptly said. "You are distressing yourself all to no
+purpose. If you will promise to keep it secret, I'll tell you the facts
+of the case."</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia's face changed also. She caught eagerly at the suggestion.
+"Yes?" she said. "Yes? I promise, of course. And I'm quite trustworthy."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you are," he said, with a grim smile. "Well, the fact of the
+matter is this. The man we want is on board this ship, but being only a
+private detective, I don't possess a warrant for his arrest. Therefore
+all I can do is to keep him in sight. And I can only do that by throwing
+him as far as possible off the scent. If he takes me for a card-sharper,
+all the better. For he's as slippery as an eel, and I have to play him
+pretty carefully."</p>
+
+<p>He ceased. Cynthia's eyes were growing wider and wider.</p>
+
+<p>"Nat Verney on board this ship?" she gasped.</p>
+
+<p>He nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. You wanted him to get away, didn't you? But I don't think he will,
+this time. He will probably be arrested directly we reach New York. But,
+meantime, I must watch out."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" breathed Cynthia. "Then"&mdash;with sudden hope dawning in her
+eyes&mdash;"it really was your doing, that trick at the card-table last
+night?"</p>
+
+<p>West uttered his brief, hard laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you take me for?"</p>
+
+<p>She heaved a great sigh of relief.</p>
+
+<p>"And it wasn't Archie, after all? I'm thankful you told me. I thought&mdash;I
+thought&mdash;But it doesn't matter, does it? Tell me, do tell me, Mr. West,"
+drawing very close to him, "which&mdash;which is Mr. Nat Verney?"</p>
+
+<p>West seemed to hesitate.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do tell me!" she begged. "I know I'm only a woman, but I always
+keep my word. And it's only two days more to New York."</p>
+
+<p>He looked closely into her eyes and yielded.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm trusting you with my reputation," he said. "It's the stout,
+red-faced man called Rudd."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Rudd?" She started back. "You don't say? That man?" There followed
+a short pause while she digested the information. Then, as on the
+previous morning, she suddenly extended her hand. "Well, I hate that
+man, anyway. And I believe you're really clever. If you like, Mr. West,
+I'll help you to watch out."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks!" said West. He took the little hand into a tight grip, still
+looking straight into her eyes. There was a light in his own that shone
+like a blue flame. "Thanks!" he said again, as he released it. "You're
+very good, Miss Mortimer. But you mustn't be seen with me, you know.
+You've got to remember that I'm a swindler."</p>
+
+<p>The girl laughed aloud. It pleased her to feel that this taciturn man
+had taken her into his confidence at last. "I shall remember," she said
+lightly.</p>
+
+<p>And she went away, not only comforted, but gay of heart.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>During the remainder of the voyage, West was treated with extreme
+coolness by every one. It did not seem to abash him in the least. He
+came and went in the crowd with the utmost <i>sang-froid</i>, always
+preoccupied, always self-contained. Cynthia observed him from a distance
+with admiration. The man had taken her fancy. She was keenly interested
+in his methods, as well as in his decidedly unusual personality. She
+observed Rudd also, and noted the obvious suspicion with which he
+regarded West. On the night before their arrival she saw the latter
+alone for a moment, and whispered to him that Mr. Rudd seemed uneasy. At
+which information West merely laughed sardonically. He was holding a
+small parcel, to which, after a moment, he drew her attention.</p>
+
+<p>"I was going to ask you to accept this," he said. "It is nothing very
+important, but I should like you to have it. Don't open it before
+to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked Cynthia, in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>He frowned in his abrupt way.</p>
+
+<p>"It doesn't matter; something connected with my profession. I shouldn't
+give it you, if I didn't know you were to be trusted."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but"&mdash;she hesitated a little&mdash;"ought I to take it?"</p>
+
+<p>He raised his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall give it to the captain for you, if you don't. But I would
+rather give it to you direct."</p>
+
+<p>In face of this, Cynthia yielded, feeling as if he compelled her.</p>
+
+<p>"But mayn't I open it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No." West's eyes held hers for a second. "Not till to-morrow. And, in
+case we don't meet again, I'll say good-bye."</p>
+
+<p>"But we shall meet in New York?" she urged, with a sudden sense of loss.
+"Or perhaps in Boston? My father would really like to meet you."</p>
+
+<p>"Much obliged," said West, with his grim smile. "But I'm not much of a
+society man. And I don't think I shall find myself in Boston at
+present."</p>
+
+<p>"Then&mdash;then&mdash;I sha'n't see you again&mdash;ever?" Cynthia's tone was
+unconsciously tragic. Till that moment she had scarcely realised how
+curiously strong an attraction this man held for her.</p>
+
+<p>West's expression changed. His emotionless blue eyes became suddenly
+more blue, and intense with a vital fire. He leaned towards her as one
+on the verge of vehement speech.</p>
+
+<p>Then abruptly his look went beyond her, and he checked himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Who knows?" he said carelessly. "Good-bye for the present, anyway! It's
+been a pleasant voyage."</p>
+
+<p>He straightened himself with the words, nodded, and turned aside without
+so much as touching her hand.</p>
+
+<p>And Cynthia, glancing round with an instinctive feeling of discomfiture,
+saw Rudd with another man, standing watching them at the end of the
+passage.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>In the dark of early morning they reached New York. Most of the
+passengers decided to remain on board for breakfast, which was served at
+an early hour in the midst of a hubbub and turmoil indescribable.</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia, with her aunt and Archie, partook of a hurried meal in the
+thick of the ever-shifting crowd. She looked in vain for West, her grey
+eyes searching perpetually.</p>
+
+<p>One friend after another came up to bid them good-bye, stood a little,
+talking, and presently drifted away. The whole ship from end to end
+hummed like a hive of bees.</p>
+
+<p>She was glad when at length she was able to escape from the noisy
+saloon. She had not slept well, and her nerves were on edge. The memory
+of that interrupted conversation with West, of the confidence unspoken,
+went with her continually. She had an almost feverish longing to see him
+once more, even though it were in the heart of the crowd. He had been
+about to tell her something. Of that she was certain. She had an
+intense, an almost passionate desire to know what it was. Surely he
+would not&mdash;he could not&mdash;go ashore without seeing her again!</p>
+
+<p>She had not intended to open the packet he had given her till she was
+ashore herself, but a palpitating curiosity tugged ever at her
+resolution till at length she could resist it no longer. West was
+nowhere to be seen, and she felt she must know more. It was intolerable
+to be thus left in the dark. Through the scurrying multitude of
+departing passengers, she began to make her way back to her cabin. Her
+progress was of necessity slow, and once in a crowded corner she was
+stopped altogether.</p>
+
+<p>Two men were talking together close to her. Their backs were towards
+her, and in the general confusion they did not observe her futile
+impatience to pass.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I knew the fellow was a wrong 'un, all along," were the first words
+that filtered to the girl's consciousness as she stood. "But I didn't
+think he was responsible for that card trick, I must say. Young Bathurst
+looked so abominably hangdog."</p>
+
+<p>It was the Englishman, Norton, who spoke, and the man who stood with him
+was Rudd. Cynthia realised the near presence of the latter with a
+sensation of disgust. His drawling tones grated upon her intolerably.</p>
+
+<p>"Waal," he said, "it was just that card trick that opened my eyes&mdash;I
+shouldn't have noticed him, otherwise. I knew that young Bathurst was
+square. He hasn't the brains to be anything else. And when this chap
+butted in with his thick-ribbed impudence, I guessed right then that we
+hadn't got a beginner to deal with. After that I watched for a bit, and
+there were several little things that made me begin to reflect. So the
+next evening I got a wireless message off to my partner in New York, and
+I reckon that did the trick. When we came up alongside this morning, the
+vultures were all ready for him. I took them to his cabin myself. There
+was no fuss at all. He saw it was all up, and gave in without a murmur.
+They were only just in time, though. In another thirty seconds, he would
+have been off. It was a clever piece of work, I flatter myself, to net
+Mr. Nat Verney so neatly."</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman began to laugh, but suddenly broke off short as a girl's
+face, white and quivering, came between them.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is this man?" the high, breathless voice demanded. "Which&mdash;which is
+Mr. Nat Verney?"</p>
+
+<p>Rudd looked down at her through narrowed eyes. He was smiling&mdash;a small,
+bitter smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Waal, Miss Mortimer," he began, "I reckon you have first right to
+know&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She turned from him imperiously.</p>
+
+<p>"You tell me," she commanded Norton.</p>
+
+<p>Norton looked genuinely uncomfortable, and, probably in consequence, he
+answered her with a gruffness that sounded brutal.</p>
+
+<p>"It was West. He has been arrested. His own fault entirely. No one would
+have suspected him if he hadn't been a fool, and given his own show
+away."</p>
+
+<p>"He wasn't a fool!" Cynthia flashed back fiercely. "He was my friend!"</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't be in too great a hurry to claim that distinction,"
+remarked Rudd. "He's about the best-known rascal in the two
+hemispheres."</p>
+
+<p>But Cynthia did not wait to hear him. She had slipped past, and was
+gone.</p>
+
+<p>In her own cabin at last, she bolted the door and tore open that packet
+connected with his profession which he had given her the night before.
+It contained a roll of notes to the value of a hundred pounds, wrapped
+in a sheet of notepaper on which was scrawled a single line: "With
+apologies from the man who swindled you."</p>
+
+<p>There was no signature of any sort. None was needed! When Cynthia
+finally left her cabin an hour later, her eyes were bright with that
+brightness which comes from the shedding of many tears.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Swindlers_Handicap" id="The_Swindlers_Handicap"></a>The Swindler's Handicap</h2>
+
+<h4>A SEQUEL TO "THE SWINDLER"</h4>
+
+<h4><i>Which I Dedicate to the Friend Who Asked for it.</i></h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Yes, but what's the good of it?" said Cynthia Mortimer gently. "I can
+never marry you."</p>
+
+<p>"You might be engaged to me for a bit, anyhow," he urged, "and see how
+you like it."</p>
+
+<p>She made a quaint gesture with her arms, as though she tried to lift
+some heavy weight.</p>
+
+<p>"I am very sorry," she said, in the same gentle voice. "It's very nice
+of you to think of it, Lord Babbacombe. But&mdash;you see, I'm quite sure I
+shouldn't like it. So that ends it, doesn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>He stood up to his full height, and regarded her with a faint, rueful
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a very obstinate girl, Cynthia," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She leaned back in her chair, looking up at him with clear, grey eyes
+that met his with absolute freedom.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not a girl at all, Jack," she said. "I gave up all my pretensions
+to youth many, many years ago."</p>
+
+<p>He nodded, still faintly smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"You were about nineteen, weren't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I was past twenty-one." A curious note crept into her voice; it
+sounded as if she were speaking of the dead. "It&mdash;was just twelve years
+ago," she said.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe's eyebrows went up.</p>
+
+<p>"What! Are you past thirty? I had no idea."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed at him&mdash;a quick, gay laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it's eight years since I first met you."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it? Great heavens, how the time goes&mdash;wasted time, too, Cynthia! We
+might have been awfully happy together all this time. Well"&mdash;with a
+sharp sigh&mdash;"we can't get it back again. But anyhow, we needn't squander
+any more of it, if only you will be reasonable."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head; then, with one of those quick impulses that were a
+part of her charm, she sprang lightly up and gave him both her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Jack," she said. "No&mdash;no&mdash;no! I'm not reasonable. I'm just a
+drivelling, idiotic fool. But&mdash;but I love my foolishness too well ever
+to part with it. Ever, did I say? No, even I am not quite so foolish as
+that. But it's sublime enough to hold me till&mdash;till I know for certain
+whether&mdash;whether the thing I call love is real or&mdash;or&mdash;only&mdash;a sham."</p>
+
+<p>There was passion in her voice, and her eyes were suddenly full of
+tears; but she kept them upturned to his as though she pleaded with him
+to understand.</p>
+
+<p>He looked down at her very kindly, very steadily, holding her hands
+closely in his own. There was no hint of chagrin on his clean-shaven
+face&mdash;only the utmost kindness.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't cry!" he said gently. "Tell me about this sublime foolishness of
+yours&mdash;about the thing you call&mdash;love. I might help you, perhaps&mdash;who
+knows?&mdash;to find out if it is the real thing or not."</p>
+
+<p>Her lips were quivering.</p>
+
+<p>"I've never told a soul," she said. "I&mdash;am half afraid."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense, dear!" he protested.</p>
+
+<p>"But I am," she persisted. "It's such an absurd romance&mdash;this
+of mine, so absurd that you'll laugh at it, just at first. And
+then&mdash;afterwards&mdash;you will&mdash;disapprove."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear girl," he said, "you have never entertained the smallest regard
+for my opinion before. Why begin to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a little, turning from him to brush away her tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down," she said, "and&mdash;and smoke&mdash;those horrid strong cigarettes of
+yours. I love the smell. Perhaps I'll try and tell you. But&mdash;mind,
+Jack&mdash;you're not to look at me. And you're not to say a single word till
+I've done. Just&mdash;smoke, that's all."</p>
+
+<p>She settled herself on the low fender-cushion with her face turned from
+him to the fire. Lord Babbacombe sat down as she desired, and took out
+and lighted a cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>As the scent of it reached her she began to speak in the high, American
+voice he had come to love. There was nothing piercing about it; it was a
+clear, sweet treble.</p>
+
+<p>"It happened when I was travelling under Aunt Bathurst's wing. You know,
+it was with her and my cousin Archie that I first did Europe. My! It was
+a long time ago! I've been round the world four times since then&mdash;twice
+with poor dear Daddy, once with Mrs. Archie, after he died, and the last
+time&mdash;alone. And I didn't like that last time a mite. I was like the man
+in <i>The Pilgrim's Progress</i>&mdash;I took my hump wherever I went. Still, I
+had to do something. You were big-game shooting. I'd have gone with you
+if you'd have had me unmarried. But I knew you wouldn't, so I just had
+to mess around by myself. Oh, but I was tired&mdash;I was tired! But I kept
+saying to myself it was the last journey before&mdash;Jack, if you don't
+smoke your cigarette will go out. Where was I? I'm afraid I'm boring
+you. You can go to sleep if you like. Well, it was on the voyage back.
+There was a man on board that every one said was a private detective. It
+was at the time of the great Nat Verney swindles. You remember, of
+course? And somehow we all jumped to the conclusion that he was tracking
+him. I remember seeing him when we first went on board at Liverpool. He
+was standing by the gangway watching the crowd with the bluest eyes on
+earth, and I took him for a detective right away. But&mdash;for all
+that&mdash;there was something about him&mdash;something I kind of liked, that
+made me feel I wanted to know him. He was avoiding everybody, but I made
+him talk to me. You know my way."</p>
+
+<p>She paused for a moment, and leaning forward, gazed into the heart of
+the fire with wide, intent eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The man in the chair behind her smoked on silently with a drawn face.</p>
+
+<p>"He was very horrid to me," she went on, her voice soft and slow as
+though she were describing something seen in a vision, "the only man who
+ever was. But I&mdash;do you know, I liked him all the more for that? I
+didn't flirt with him. I didn't try. He wasn't the sort one could flirt
+with. He was hard&mdash;hard as iron, clean-shaven, with an immensely
+powerful jaw, and eyes that looked clean through you. He was one of
+those short, broad Englishmen&mdash;you know the sort&mdash;out of proportion
+everywhere, but so splendidly strong. He just hated me for making
+friends with him. It was very funny."</p>
+
+<p>An odd little note of laughter ran through the words&mdash;that laughter
+which is akin to tears.</p>
+
+<p>"But I didn't care for that," she said. "It didn't hurt me in the least.
+He was too big to give offence to an impudent little minx like me.
+Besides, I wanted him to help me, and after a bit I told him so.
+Archie&mdash;my cousin, you know; he was only a boy then&mdash;was mad on
+card-playing at that time. And I was real worried about him. I knew he
+would get into a hole sooner or later, and I begged my surly Englishman
+to keep an eye on him. Oh, I was a fool! I was a brainless, chattering
+fool! And I'm not much better now, I often think."</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia's hand went up to her eyes. The vision in the fire was all
+blurred and indistinct.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe was leaning forward, listening intently. The firelight
+flickered on his face, showing it very grave and still. He did not
+attempt to speak.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, after a moment, Cynthia made a wavering movement with one
+hand in his direction.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not crying, Jack. Don't be silly! I'm sure your cigarette is out."</p>
+
+<p>It was. He pitched it past her into the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Light another," she pleaded. "I love them so. They are the kind he
+always smoked. That's nearly the end of the story. You can almost guess
+the rest. That very night Archie did get into a hole, a bad one, and the
+only way my friend could lift him out was by getting down into it
+himself. He saved him, but it was at his own expense; for it made people
+begin to reflect. And in the end&mdash;in the end, when we came into harbour,
+they came on board, and&mdash;and arrested him early in the morning&mdash;before I
+knew. You see, he&mdash;he was Nat Verney."</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia's dark head was suddenly bowed upon her hands. She was rocking
+to and fro in the firelight.</p>
+
+<p>"And it was my fault," she sobbed&mdash;"all my fault. If&mdash;if he hadn't done
+that thing for me, no one would have known&mdash;no one would have
+suspected!"</p>
+
+<p>She had broken down completely at last, and the man who heard her
+wondered, with a deep compassion, how often she had wept, in secret and
+uncomforted, as she was weeping now.</p>
+
+<p>He bore it till his humanity could endure no longer. And then, very
+gently, he reached out, touched her, drew her to him, pillowed her head
+on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't cry, Cynthia," he whispered earnestly. "It's heart-breaking work,
+dear, and it doesn't help. There! Let me hold you till you feel better.
+You can't refuse comfort from an old friend like me."</p>
+
+<p>She yielded to him mutely for a little, till her grief had somewhat
+spent itself. Then, with a little quivering smile, she lifted her head
+and looked him straight in the face.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Jack," she said. "You&mdash;you've done me good. But it's not
+good for you, is it? I've made you quite damp. You don't think you'll
+catch cold?"&mdash;dabbing at his shoulder with her handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>He took her hand and stayed it.</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing in this world," he said gravely "that I would so
+gladly do as help you, Cynthia. Will you believe this, and treat me from
+this stand-point only?"</p>
+
+<p>She turned back to the fire, but she left her hand in his.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," she said, in an odd little choked voice, "it's just like you
+to say so, and I guess I sha'n't forget it. Well, well! There's my
+romance in a nutshell. He didn't care a fig for me till just the last.
+He cared then, but it was too late to come to anything. They shipped him
+back again you know, and he was sentenced to fifteen years' penal
+servitude. He's done nearly twelve, and he's coming out next month on
+ticket-of-leave."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Cynthia!"</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe bent his head suddenly upon her hand, and sat tense and
+silent.</p>
+
+<p>"I know," she said&mdash;"I know. It sounds simply monstrous, put into bald
+words. I sometimes wonder myself if it can possibly be true&mdash;if I,
+Cynthia Mortimer, can really be such a fool. But I can't possibly tell
+for certain till I see him again. I must see him again somehow. I've
+waited all these years&mdash;all these years."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe groaned.</p>
+
+<p>"And suppose, when you've seen him, you still care?"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"What then, Jack? I don't know; I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>He pulled himself together, and sat up.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know where he is?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He is at Barren Hill. He has been there for five years now. My
+solicitor knows that I take an interest in him. He calls it
+philanthropy." Cynthia smiled faintly into the fire. "I was one of the
+people he swindled," she said. "But he paid me back."</p>
+
+<p>She rose and went across the room to a bureau in a corner. She unlocked
+a drawer, and took something from it. Returning, she laid a packet of
+notes in Babbacombe's hands.</p>
+
+<p>"I could never part with them," she said. "He gave them to me in a
+sealed parcel the last time I saw him. It's only a hundred pounds. Yes,
+that was the message he wrote. Can you read it? 'With apologies from the
+man who swindled you.' As if I cared for the wretched money!"</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe frowned over the writing in silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you say what you think, Jack?" she said. "Why don't you call
+him a thieving scoundrel and me a poor, romantic fool!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am trying to think how I can help you," he answered quietly. "Have
+you any plans?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, nothing definite," she said. "It is difficult to know what to do.
+He knows one thing&mdash;that he has a friend who will help him when he comes
+out. He will be horribly poor, you know, and I'm so rich. But, of
+course, I would do it anonymously. And he thinks his friend is a man."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe pondered with drawn brows.</p>
+
+<p>"Cynthia," he said slowly, at length, "suppose I take this matter into
+my own hands, suppose I make it possible for you to see this man once
+more, will you be guided entirely by me? Will you promise me solemnly to
+take no rash step of any description; in short, to do nothing without
+consulting me? Will you promise me, Cynthia?"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke very earnestly. The firelight showed her the resolution on his
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I will promise you, Jack," she said instantly. "I would trust
+myself body and soul in your keeping. But what can you do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I might do this," he said. "I might pose as his unknown friend&mdash;another
+philanthropist, Cynthia." He smiled rather grimly. "I might get hold of
+him when he comes out, give him something to do to keep his head above
+water. If he has any manhood in him, he won't mind what he takes. And I
+might&mdash;later, if I thought it practicable&mdash;I only say 'if,' Cynthia, for
+after many years of prison life a man isn't always fit company for a
+lady&mdash;I might arrange that you should see him in some absolutely casual
+fashion. If you consent to this arrangement you must leave that entirely
+to me."</p>
+
+<p>"But you will hate to do it!" she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>He rose. "I will do it for your sake," he said. "I shall not hate it if
+it makes you see things&mdash;as they are."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but you are good," she said tremulously&mdash;"you are good!"</p>
+
+<p>"I love a good woman," he answered gravely.</p>
+
+<p>And with that he turned and left her alone in the firelight with her
+romance.</p>
+
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<p>It was early on a dark November day that the prison gate at Barren Hill
+opened to allow a convict who had just completed twelve years' penal
+servitude to pass out a free man.</p>
+
+<p>A motor car was drawn up at the side of the kerb as he emerged, and a
+man in a long overcoat, with another slung on his arm, was pacing up and
+down.</p>
+
+<p>He wheeled at the closing of the gate, and they stood face to face.</p>
+
+<p>There was a moment's difficult silence; then the man with the motor
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. West, I think?"</p>
+
+<p>The other looked him up and down in a single comprehensive glance that
+was like the flash of a sword blade.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," he said curtly, "if you prefer it."</p>
+
+<p>He was a short, thick-set man of past forty, with a face so grimly lined
+as to mask all expression. His eyes alone were vividly alert. They were
+the bluest eyes that Babbacombe had ever seen.</p>
+
+<p>He accepted the curt acknowledgment with grave courtesy, and made a
+motion toward the car.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you get in? My name is Babbacombe. I am here to meet you, as no
+doubt you have been told. You had better wear this"&mdash;opening out the
+coat he carried.</p>
+
+<p>But West remained motionless, facing him on the grey, deserted road.
+"Before I come with you," he said, in his brief, clipped style, "there
+is one thing I want to know. Are you patronising me for the sake of
+philanthropy, or for&mdash;some other reason?"</p>
+
+<p>As he uttered the question, he fixed Babbacombe with a stare that was
+not without insolence.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe did not hesitate in his reply. He was not a man to be lightly
+disconcerted.</p>
+
+<p>"You can put it down to anything you like," he said, "except
+philanthropy."</p>
+
+<p>West considered a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, sir," he said finally, his aggressive tone slightly
+modified. "In that case I will come with you."</p>
+
+<p>He turned about, and thrust his arms into the coat Babbacombe held for
+him, turned up the collar, and without a backward glance, stepped into
+the waiting motor.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe started the engine, and followed him. In another moment they
+had glided away into the dripping mist, and the prison was left behind.</p>
+
+<p>Through mile after mile they sped in silence. West sat with his chin
+buried in his coat, his keen eyes staring straight ahead. Babbacombe, at
+the wheel, never glanced at him once.</p>
+
+<p>Through villages, through towns, through long stretches of open country
+they glided, sometimes slackening, but never stopping. The sun broke
+through at length, revealing a country of hills and woods and silvery
+running streams. They had been travelling for hours. It was nearly noon.</p>
+
+<p>For the first time since their start Babbacombe spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope I haven't kept you going too long. We are just getting in."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't mind me," said West.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe was slackening speed.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a fine hunting country," he observed.</p>
+
+<p>"Whose is it?" asked West.</p>
+
+<p>"Mine, most of it." They were running smoothly down a long avenue of
+beech trees, with a glimpse of an open gateway at the end.</p>
+
+<p>"It must take some managing," remarked West.</p>
+
+<p>"It does," Babbacombe answered. "It needs a capable man."</p>
+
+<p>They reached the gateway, passing under an arch of stone. Beyond it lay
+wide stretches of park land. Rabbits scuttled in the sunshine, and under
+the trees here and there they had glimpses of deer.</p>
+
+<p>"Ever ridden to hounds?" asked Babbacombe.</p>
+
+<p>The man beside him turned with a movement half savage.</p>
+
+<p>"Set me on a good horse," he said, "and I will show you what I can do."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe nodded, conscious for the first time of a warmth of sympathy
+for the man. Whatever his sins, he must have suffered infernally during
+the past twelve years.</p>
+
+<p>Twelve years! Ye gods! It was half a life-time! It represented the whole
+of his manhood to Babbacombe. Twelve years ago he had been an
+undergraduate at Cambridge.</p>
+
+<p>He drove on through the undulating stretches of Farringdean Park, his
+favourite heritage, trying to realise what effect twelve years in a
+convict prison would have had upon himself, what his outlook would
+ultimately have become, and what in actual fact was the outlook and
+general attitude of the man who had come through this long purgatory.</p>
+
+<p>Sweeping round a rise in the ground, they came into sudden sight of the
+castle. Ancient and splendid it rose before them, its battlements
+shining in the sun&mdash;a heritage of which any man might be proud.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe waited for some word of admiration from his companion. But he
+waited in vain. West was mute.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of it?" he asked at last, determined to wring some
+meed of appreciation from him, even though he stooped to ask for it.</p>
+
+<p>"What&mdash;the house?" said West. "It's uncommonly like a primeval sort of
+prison, to my idea. I've no doubt it boasts some very superior
+dungeons."</p>
+
+<p>The sting in the words reached Babbacombe, but without offence. Again,
+more strongly, he was conscious of that glow of sympathy within him,
+kindling to a flame of fellowship.</p>
+
+<p>"It boasts better things than that," he said quietly, "as I hope you
+will allow me to show you."</p>
+
+<p>He was conscious of the piercing gaze of West's eyes, and, after a
+moment, he deliberately turned his own to meet it.</p>
+
+<p>"And if you find&mdash;as you probably soon will&mdash;that I make but a poor sort
+of host," he said, "just remember, will you, that I like my guests to
+please themselves, and secure your own comfort?"</p>
+
+<p>For a second, West's grim mouth seemed to hesitate on the edge of a
+smile&mdash;a smile that never developed.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder how soon you will tell me to go to the devil?" he said
+cynically.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I am a better host than that," said Babbacombe, with quiet humour.
+"If you ever prefer the devil's hospitality to mine, it won't be my
+fault."</p>
+
+<p>West turned from him with a slight shrug of the shoulders, as if he
+deemed himself to be dealing with a harmless lunatic, and dropped back
+into silence.</p>
+
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<p>Silence had become habitual to him, as Babbacombe soon discovered. He
+could remain silent for hours. Probably he had never been of a very
+expansive nature, and prison discipline had strengthened an inborn
+reticence to a reserve of iron. He was not a disconcerting companion,
+because he was absolutely unobtrusive, but with all the good-will in the
+world Babbacombe found it well-nigh impossible to treat him with that
+ease of manner which came to him so spontaneously in his dealings with
+other men.</p>
+
+<p>Grim, taciturn, cynical, West baffled his every effort to reach the
+inner man. His silence clothed him like armour, and he never really
+emerged from it save when a fiendish sense of humour tempted him. This,
+and this alone, so it seemed to Babbacombe, had any power to draw him
+out. And the instant he had flung his gibe at the object thereof, he
+would retreat again into that impenetrable shell of silence. He never
+once spoke of his past life, never once referred to the future.</p>
+
+<p>He merely accepted Babbacombe's hospitality in absolute silence, without
+question, without gratitude, smoked his cigarettes eternally, drank his
+wines without appreciation, rode his horses without comment.</p>
+
+<p>The only point in his favour that Babbacombe, the kindliest of critics,
+could discover after a fort-night's patient study, was that the animals
+loved him. He conducted himself like a gentleman, but somehow Babbacombe
+had expected this much from the moment of their meeting. He sometimes
+told himself with a wry face that if the fellow had behaved like a beast
+he would have found him easier to cultivate. At least, he would have had
+something to work upon, a creature of flesh and blood, instead of this
+inscrutable statue wrought in iron.</p>
+
+<p>With a sinking heart he recalled Cynthia's description of the man. To a
+certain extent it still fitted him, but he imagined that those twelve
+years had had a hardening effect upon him, making rigid that which had
+always been stubborn, driving the iron deeper and ever deeper into his
+soul, till only iron remained. Many were the nights he spent pondering
+over the romance of the woman he loved. What subtle attraction in this
+hardened sinner had lured her heart away? Was it possible that the
+fellow had ever cared for her? Had he ever possessed even the rudiments
+of a heart?</p>
+
+<p>The message he had read in the firelight&mdash;the brief line which this man
+had written&mdash;was the only answer he could find to these doubts. It
+seemed to point to something&mdash;some pulsing warmth&mdash;which could not have
+been kindled from nothing. And again the memory of a woman's tears would
+come upon him, spurring him to fresh effort. Surely the man for whom she
+was breaking her heart could not be wholly evil, nor yet wholly callous!
+Somewhere behind those steely blue eyes, there must dwell some answer to
+the riddle. It might be that Cynthia would find it, though he failed.
+But he shrank, with an aversion inexpressible, from letting her try, so
+deeply rooted had his conviction become that her cherished girlish fancy
+was no more than the misty gold of dreams.</p>
+
+<p>Yet for her sake he persevered&mdash;for the sake of those precious tears
+that had so wrung his heart he would do that which he had set out to do,
+notwithstanding the utmost discouragement. An insoluble enigma the man
+might be to him, but he would not for that turn back from the task that
+he had undertaken. West should have his chance in spite of it.</p>
+
+<p>They were riding together over the crisp turf of the park one frosty
+morning in November, when Babbacombe turned quietly to his companion,
+pointing to the chimneys of a house half-hidden by trees, ahead of them.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to go over that place," he said. "It is standing empty, and
+probably needs repairs."</p>
+
+<p>West received the announcement with a brief nod. He never betrayed
+interest in anything.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I hold your animal?" he suggested, as they reached the gate that
+led into the little garden.</p>
+
+<p>"No. Come in with me, won't you? We can hitch the bridles to the post."</p>
+
+<p>They went in together through a rustling litter of dead leaves. The
+house was low, and thatched&mdash;a picturesque dwelling of no great size.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe led the way within, and they went from room to room, he with
+note-book in hand, jotting down the various details necessary to make
+the place into a comfortable habitation.</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay you can help me with this if you will," he said presently. "I
+shall turn some workmen on to it next week. Perhaps you will keep an eye
+on them for me, decide on the decorations, and so forth. It is my
+agent's house, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is your agent?" asked West abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe smiled a little. "At the present moment&mdash;I have no agent.
+That is what keeps me so busy. I hope to have one before long."</p>
+
+<p>West strolled to a window and opened it, leaning his arms upon the sill.</p>
+
+<p>He seemed about to relapse into one of his interminable silences when
+Babbacombe, standing behind him, said quietly, "I am going to offer the
+post to you."</p>
+
+<p>"To me?" West wheeled suddenly, even with vehemence. "What for?" he
+demanded sharply.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe met his look, still faintly smiling. "For our mutual
+benefit," he said. "I am convinced that you have ample ability for this
+sort of work, and if you will accept the post I shall be very pleased."</p>
+
+<p>He stopped at that, determined for once to make the man speak on his own
+initiative. West was looking straight at him, and there was a curious
+glitter in his eyes like the sparkle of ice in the sun.</p>
+
+<p>When he spoke at length his speech, though curt, was not so rigorously
+emotionless as usual.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you think," he said, "that you have carried this tomfoolery of
+yours far enough?"</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe raised one eyebrow. "Meaning?" he questioned.</p>
+
+<p>West enlightened him with most unusual vigour.</p>
+
+<p>"Meaning that tomfoolery of this sort never pays. I know. I've done it
+myself in my time. If I were you, I should pull up and try some less
+expensive hobby than that of mending broken men. The pieces are always
+chipped and never stick, and the chances are that you'll cut your
+fingers trying to make 'em. No, sir, I won't be your agent! Find a man
+you can trust, and let me go to the devil!"</p>
+
+<p>The outburst was so unexpected and so forcible that at first Babbacombe
+stared at the man in amazement. Then, with that spontaneous kindness of
+heart that made him what he was, he grabbed and held his opportunity.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear fellow," he said, not pausing for a choice of words, "you are
+talking infernal rot, and I won't listen to you. Do you seriously
+suppose I should be such a tenfold ass as to offer the management of my
+estate to a man I couldn't trust?"</p>
+
+<p>"What reason have you for trusting me?" West thrust back. "Unless you
+think that a dozen years in prison have deprived me of my ancient skill.
+Would you choose a man who has been a drunkard for your butler? No! Then
+don't choose a swindler and an ex-convict for your bailiff."</p>
+
+<p>He swung around with the words and shut the window with a bang.</p>
+
+<p>But again Babbacombe took his cue from that inner prompting to which he
+had trusted all his life. For the first time he liked the man; for the
+first time, so it seemed to him, he caught a glimpse of the soul into
+which the iron had been so deeply driven.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, West," he said, "I am not going to take that sort of refusal
+from you. We have been together some time now, and it isn't my fault if
+we don't know each other pretty well. I don't care a hang what you have
+been. I am only concerned with what you are, and whatever that may be,
+you are not a weak-kneed fool. You have the power to keep straight if
+you choose, and you are to choose. Understand? I make you this offer
+with a perfectly open mind, and you are to consider it in the same way.
+Would you have said because you had once had a nasty tumble that you
+would never ride again? Of course you wouldn't. You are not such a fool.
+Then don't refuse my offer on those grounds, for it's nothing less than
+contemptible."</p>
+
+<p>"Think so?" said West. He had listened quite impassively to the oration,
+but as Babbacombe ended, his grim mouth relaxed sardonically. "You seem
+mighty anxious to spend your money on damaged goods, Lord Babbacombe.
+It's a tom-fool investment, you know. How many of the honest folk in
+your service will stick to you when they begin to find out what you've
+given them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why should they find out?" asked Babbacombe.</p>
+
+<p>West shrugged his shoulders. "It's a dead certainty that they will."</p>
+
+<p>"If I can take the risk, so can you," said Babbacombe.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, of course, I used to be rather good at that game. It is called
+'sand-throwing' in the profession."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe made an impatient movement, and West's hard smile became more
+pronounced.</p>
+
+<p>"But you are not at all good at it," he continued. "You are almost
+obtrusively obvious. It is a charm that has its very material
+drawbacks."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe wholly lost patience at that. The man's grim irony was not to
+be borne.</p>
+
+<p>"Take it or leave it!" he exclaimed. "But if you leave it, in heaven's
+name let it be for some sounder reason than a faked-up excuse of moral
+weakness!"</p>
+
+<p>West uttered an abrupt laugh. "You seem to have a somewhat exalted
+opinion of my morals," he observed. "Well, since you are determined to
+brave the risk of being let down, I needn't quibble at it any further. I
+accept."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe's attitude changed in an instant. He held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You won't let me down, West," he said, with confidence.</p>
+
+<p>West hesitated for a single instant, then took the proffered hand into a
+grip of iron. His blue eyes looked hard and straight into Babbacombe's
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"If I let you down," he said grimly, "I shall be underneath."</p>
+
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<p>It was not till the middle of December that the new bailiff moved into
+his own quarters, but he had assumed his duties some weeks before that
+time, and Babbacombe was well satisfied with him. The man's business
+instincts were unusually keen. He had, moreover, a wonderful eye for
+details, and very little escaped him. It soon came home to Babbacombe
+that the management of his estate was in capable hands, and he
+congratulated himself upon having struck ore where he had least expected
+to find it. He supervised the whole of West's work for a time, but he
+soon suffered this vigilance to relax, for the man's shrewdness far
+surpassed his own. He settled to the work with a certain grim relish,
+and it was a perpetual marvel to Babbacombe that he mastered it from the
+outset with such facility.</p>
+
+<p>Keepers and labourers eyed him askance for awhile, but West's
+imperturbability took effect before very long. They accepted him without
+enthusiasm, but also without rancour, as a man who could hold his own.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he was installed in the bailiff's house, Babbacombe left him
+to his own devices, and departed upon a round of visits. He proposed to
+entertain a house-party himself towards the end of January. He informed
+West of this before departing, and was slightly puzzled by a certain
+humourous gleam that shone in the steely eyes at the news. The matter
+went speedily from his mind. It was not till long after that he recalled
+it.</p>
+
+<p>West wrote to him regularly during his absence, curt, businesslike
+epistles, which always terminated on a grim note of irony: "Your
+faithful steward, N. V. West." He never varied this joke, and Babbacombe
+usually noted it with a faint frown. The fellow was not a bad sort, he
+was convinced, but he would always be more or less of an enigma to him.</p>
+
+<p>He returned to Farringdean in the middle of January with one of his
+married sisters, whom he had secured to act as hostess to his party. He
+invited West to dine with them informally on the night of his return.</p>
+
+<p>His sister, Lady Cottesbrook, a gay and garrulous lady some years his
+senior, received the new agent with considerable condescension. She
+bestowed scant attention upon him during dinner, and West presented his
+most impenetrable demeanour in consequence, refusing steadily to avail
+himself of Babbacombe's courteous efforts to draw him into the
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>He would have excused himself later from accompanying his host into the
+drawing-room, but Babbacombe insisted upon this so stubbornly that
+finally, with his characteristic lift of the shoulders, he yielded.</p>
+
+<p>As they entered, Lady Cottesbrook raised her glasses, and favoured him
+with a close scrutiny.</p>
+
+<p>"It's very curious," she said, "but I can't help feeling as if I have
+seen you somewhere before. You have the look of some one I knew years
+ago&mdash;some one I didn't like&mdash;but I can't remember who."</p>
+
+<p>"Just as well, perhaps," said Babbacombe, with a careless laugh, though
+a faint flush of annoyance rose in his face. "Come over here, West. You
+can smoke. My sister likes it."</p>
+
+<p>He seated himself at the piano, indicated a chair near him to his guest,
+and began to play.</p>
+
+<p>West, with his back to the light, sat motionless, listening. Lady
+Cottesbrook took up a book, and ignored him. There was something
+unfathomable about her brother's bailiff to which she strongly objected.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later, when he had gone, she spoke of it.</p>
+
+<p>"That man has the eyes of a criminal, Jack. I am sure he isn't
+trustworthy. He is too brazen. Where in the world did you pick him up?"</p>
+
+<p>To which Babbacombe made composed reply:</p>
+
+<p>"I know all about him, and he is absolutely trustworthy. He was
+recommended to me by a friend. I am sorry you thought it necessary to be
+rude to him. There is nothing offensive about him that I can see."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear boy, you see nothing offensive in a great many people whom I
+positively detest. However, he isn't worth an argument. Only, if you
+must ask the man to dine, for goodness' sake another time have some one
+else for me to talk to. I frankly admit that I have no talent for
+entertaining people of that class. Now tell me the latest about Cynthia
+Mortimer. Of course, she is one of the chosen guests?"</p>
+
+<p>"She has promised to spend a week here," Babbacombe answered somewhat
+reluctantly. "I haven't seen her lately. She has been in Paris."</p>
+
+<p>"What has she been doing there? Buying her trousseau?"</p>
+
+<p>"I really don't know." There was a faint inflection of irritation in his
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Doesn't her consenting to come here mean that she will accept you?"
+questioned Lady Cottesbrook. She never hesitated to ask in plainest
+terms for anything she wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"No," Babbacombe said heavily. "It does not."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Cottesbrook was silenced. After a little she turned her attention
+to other matters, to her brother's evident relief.</p>
+
+
+<h3>V</h3>
+
+<p>It was on a still, frosty evening of many stars that Cynthia came to
+Farringdean Castle. A young moon was low in the sky, and she paused to
+curtsey to it upon descending from the motor that had borne her thither.</p>
+
+<p>She turned to find Babbacombe beside her.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope it will bring you luck, Cynthia," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She flashed a swift look at him, and gave him both her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, old friend," she said softly.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes were shining like the stars above them. She laughed a little
+tremulously.</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't get to the station to meet you," he said. "I wanted to. Come
+inside. There is no one here whom you don't know."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you again," she said.</p>
+
+<p>In another moment they were entering the great hall. Before an immense
+open fireplace a group of people were gathered at tea. There was a
+general buzz of greeting as Cynthia entered. She was always popular,
+wherever she went.</p>
+
+<p>She scattered her own greetings broadcast, passing from one to another,
+greeting each in her high, sweet drawl&mdash;a gracious, impulsive woman whom
+to know was to love.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe watched her with a dumb longing. How often he had pictured
+her as hostess where now she moved as guest! Well, that dream of his was
+shattered, but the glowing fragments yet burned in his secret heart. All
+his life long he would remember her as he saw her that night on his own
+hearth. Her loveliness was like a flower wide open to the sun. He
+thought her lovelier that night than she had ever been before. When she
+flitted away at length, he felt as if she took the warmth and brightness
+of the fireside with her.</p>
+
+<p>There was no agreement between them, but he knew that she would be down
+early, and hastened his own dressing in consequence. He found her
+waiting alone in the drawing-room before a regal fire. She wore a
+splendid star of diamonds in her dark hair. It sparkled in a thousand
+colours as she turned. Her dress was black, unrelieved by any ornament.</p>
+
+<p>"Cynthia," he said, "you are exquisite!"</p>
+
+<p>The words burst from him almost involuntarily. She put out her hand to
+him with a gesture half of acknowledgment, half of protest.</p>
+
+<p>"I may be good to look at," she said, with a little whimsical smile.
+"But&mdash;I tell you, Jack&mdash;I feel a perfect reptile. It's heads I win,
+tails you lose; and&mdash;I just can't bear it."</p>
+
+<p>There was a catch in the high voice that was almost a sob. Babbacombe
+took her hand and held it.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," he said, "it's nothing of the sort. You have done me the very
+great honour of giving me your full confidence, and I won't have you
+abusing yourself for it."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. "I hate myself&mdash;there! And&mdash;and I'm frightened too.
+Jack, if you want me to marry you&mdash;you had better ask me now. I won't
+refuse you."</p>
+
+<p>He looked her closely in the eyes. "No, Cynthia," he said very gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not laughing," she protested.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled a little. "It would be easier for me if you were," he said.
+"No, we will go through with this since we have begun. And you needn't
+be scared. He is hardly a ladies' man, according to my judgment, but he
+is not a bounder. I haven't asked him to meet you to-night. I thought it
+better not. In fact, I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He broke off at the sound of a step behind him. With a start Cynthia
+turned.</p>
+
+<p>A short, thick-set man in riding-dress was walking up the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," he said formally, halting a few paces from
+Babbacombe. "I have been waiting for you in the library for the last
+hour. I sent you a message, but I conclude it was not delivered. Can I
+speak to you for a few seconds on a matter of business?"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke with his eyes fixed steadily upon Babbacombe's face, ignoring
+the woman's presence as if he had not even seen her.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe was momentarily disconcerted. He glanced at Cynthia before
+replying; and instantly, in her quick, gracious way, she came forward
+with extended hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Mr. West," she said, "don't you know me? I'm Cynthia Mortimer&mdash;a
+very old friend of yours. And I'm very glad to meet you again."</p>
+
+<p>There was a quiver as of laughter in her words. The confidence of her
+action compelled some species of response. West took the outstretched
+hand for a single instant; but his eyes, meeting hers, held no
+recognition.</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid," he said stonily, "that your memory is better than mine."</p>
+
+<p>It was a check that would have disheartened many women; not so Cynthia
+Mortimer.</p>
+
+<p>She opened her eyes wide for a second, the next quite openly she laughed
+at him.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not a bit cleverer than you used to be," she said. "But I
+rather like you for it all the same. Come, Mr. West, I'm sure you will
+make an effort when I tell you that I want to be remembered. You once
+did a big thing for me which I have never forgotten&mdash;which I never shall
+forget."</p>
+
+<p>West was frowning. "You have made a mistake," he said briefly.</p>
+
+<p>She laughed again, softly, audaciously. There was a delicate flush on
+her face, and her eyes were very bright.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Mr. Nat Verney West," she said, sinking her voice. "I'm a lot
+cleverer than you think, and I don't make mistakes of that sort."</p>
+
+<p>He shrugged his shoulders, and was silent. She was laughing still.</p>
+
+<p>"Why can't we begin where we left off?" she asked ingenuously. "Back
+numbers are so dull, and we were long past this stage anyway. Lord
+Babbacombe," appealing suddenly to her host, "can't you persuade Mr.
+West to come to the third act? I always prefer to skip the second. And
+we finished the first long ago."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe came to her assistance with his courteous smile. "Miss
+Mortimer considers herself in your debt, Mr. West," he said. "I think
+you will hurt her feelings if you try to repudiate her obligation."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, of course," laughed Cynthia. "It was a mighty big debt, and I have
+been wondering ever since how to get even with you. Oh, you needn't
+scowl. That doesn't hurt me at all. Do you know you haven't altered a
+mite, you funny English bulldog? Come, you know me now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know you," West said. "But I think it is a pity that you have
+renewed your acquaintance with me, and the sooner you drop me again the
+better." He spoke briefly and very decidedly, and having thus expressed
+himself he turned to Babbacombe. "I am going to the library. Perhaps you
+will join me there at your convenience."</p>
+
+<p>With an abrupt bow to Cynthia, he turned to go. But instantly the high
+voice arrested him.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. West!"</p>
+
+<p>He paused.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. West!" she said again, her voice half-imperious, half-pleading.</p>
+
+<p>Reluctantly he faced round. She was waiting for him with a little smile
+quivering about her mouth. Her grey eyes met his with perfect composure.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to know," she said, in her softest drawl, "if it is for my sake
+or your own that you regret this renewal of acquaintance."</p>
+
+<p>"For yours, Miss Mortimer," he answered grimly.</p>
+
+<p>"That's very kind of you," she rejoined. "And why?"</p>
+
+<p>Again he gave that slight lift of the shoulders that she remembered so
+well.</p>
+
+<p>"You know the proverb about touching pitch?"</p>
+
+<p>"Some people like pitch," said Cynthia.</p>
+
+<p>"Not clean people," threw back West.</p>
+
+<p>"No?" she said. "Well, perhaps not. Anyway, it doesn't apply in this
+case. So I sha'n't drop you, Mr. West, thank you all the same!
+Good-night!"</p>
+
+<p>She offered him her hand with a gesture that was nothing short of regal.
+And he&mdash;because he could do no less&mdash;took it, gripped it, and went his
+way.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't he rude?" murmured Cynthia; and she said it as if rudeness were
+the highest virtue a man could display.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VI</h3>
+
+<p>The early winter dusk was falling upon a world veiled in cold, drifting
+rain. Away in the distance where the castle stood, many lights had begun
+to glimmer. It was the cosy hour when sportsmen collect about the
+fireside with noisy talk of the day's achievements.</p>
+
+<p>The man who strode down the long, dark avenue towards the bailiff's
+house smiled bitterly to himself as he marked the growing illumination.
+It was four days since Cynthia Mortimer had extended to him the hand of
+friendship, and he had not seen her since. He was, in fact, studiously
+avoiding her, more studiously than he had ever avoided any one in his
+life before. His daily visits to the castle he now paid early in the
+morning, before Babbacombe himself was dressed, long before any of the
+guests were stirring. And his refusal either to dine at the castle or to
+join the sportsmen during the day was so prompt and so emphatic that
+Babbacombe had refrained from pressing his invitation.</p>
+
+<p>Not a word had passed between them upon the subject of Cynthia's
+recognition. West adhered strictly to business during his brief
+interviews with his chief. The smallest digression on Babbacombe's part
+he invariably ignored as unworthy of his attention, till even
+Babbacombe, with all his courtly consideration for others, began to
+regard him as a mere automaton, and almost to treat him as such.</p>
+
+<p>Had he realised in the faintest degree what West was enduring at that
+time, his heart must have warmed to the man, despite his repellent
+exterior. But he had no means of realising.</p>
+
+<p>The rust of twelve bitter years had corroded the bolts of that closed
+door behind which the swindler hid his lonely soul, and it was not in
+the power of any man to move them.</p>
+
+<p>So grimly he went his silent way, cynical, as only those can be to whom
+the best thing in life has been offered too late; proud, also, after his
+curious, iron-clad fashion, refusing sternly to bear a lance again in
+that field which had witnessed his dishonour.</p>
+
+<p>He knew very well what those twinkling lights denoted. He could almost
+hear the clatter round the tea-table, the witless jests of the
+youngsters, the careless laughter of the women, the trivial, merry
+nonsense that was weaving another hour of happiness into the golden
+skein of happy hours. Contemptible, of course! Vanity of vanities! But
+how infinitely precious is even such vanity as this to those who stand
+outside!</p>
+
+<p>The rain was beginning to patter through the trees. It would be a wet
+night. With his collar turned up to his ears, he trudged forward. He
+cared little for the rain. For twelve long years he had lived an outdoor
+life.</p>
+
+<p>There were no lights visible in his own abode. The old woman who kept
+his house was doubtless gossiping with some crony up at the castle.</p>
+
+<p>With his hand on the garden gate, he looked back at its distant, shining
+front. Then, with a shrug, as if impatient with himself for lingering,
+he turned to walk up the short, flagged pathway that led to his own
+door.</p>
+
+<p>At the same instant a cry of pain&mdash;a woman's cry&mdash;came sharply through
+the dripping stillness of the trees. He turned back swiftly, banging the
+gate behind him.</p>
+
+<p>A long slope rose, tree-covered, from the other side of the road. He
+judged the sound to have come from that direction, and he hurried
+towards it with swinging strides. Reaching the deep shadow, he paused,
+peering upwards.</p>
+
+<p>At once a voice he knew called to him, but in such accents of agony that
+he hardly recognised it.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, come and help me! I'm here&mdash;caught in a trap! I can't move!"</p>
+
+<p>In a moment he was crashing through the undergrowth with the furious
+recklessness of a wild animal.</p>
+
+<p>"I am coming! Keep still!" he shouted as he went.</p>
+
+<p>He found her crouched in a tiny hollow close to a narrow footpath that
+ran through the wood. She was on her knees, but she turned a deathly
+face up to him as he reached her. She was sobbing like a child.</p>
+
+<p>"They are great iron teeth," she gasped, "fastened in my hand. Can you
+open them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't move!" he ordered, as he dropped down beside her.</p>
+
+<p>It was a poacher's trap, fortunately of a species with which he was
+acquainted. Her hand was fairly gripped between the iron jaws. He
+wondered with a set face if those cruel teeth had met in her delicate
+flesh.</p>
+
+<p>She screamed as he forced it open, and fell back shuddering,
+half-fainting, while he lifted her torn hand and examined it in the
+failing light.</p>
+
+<p>It was bleeding freely, but not violently, and he saw with relief that
+the larger veins had escaped. He wrapped his handkerchief round it, and
+spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"Come!" he said. "My house is close by. It had better be bathed at
+once."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she assented shakily.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't cry!" he said, with blunt kindliness.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't help it," whispered Cynthia.</p>
+
+<p>He helped her to her feet, but she trembled so much that he put his arm
+about her.</p>
+
+<p>"It's only a stone's throw away," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She went with him without question. She seemed dazed with pain.</p>
+
+<p>Silently he led her down to his dark abode.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm giving you a lot of trouble," she murmured, as they entered.</p>
+
+<p>To which he made gruff reply:</p>
+
+<p>"It's worse for you than for me!"</p>
+
+<p>He put her into an easy chair, lighted a lamp, and departed for a basin
+of water.</p>
+
+<p>When he returned, she had so far mastered herself as to be able to smile
+at him through her tears.</p>
+
+<p>"I know I'm a drivelling idiot to cry!" she said, her voice high and
+tremulous. "But I never felt so sick before!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't apologise," said West briefly. "I know."</p>
+
+<p>He bathed the injury with the utmost tenderness, while she sat and
+watched his stern face.</p>
+
+<p>"My!" she said suddenly, with a little, shaky laugh. "You are being very
+good to me, but why do you frown like that?"</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at her with those piercing eyes of his.</p>
+
+<p>"How did you do it?"</p>
+
+<p>The colour came into her white face.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;was trying to spring the trap," she said, eyeing him doubtfully. "I
+didn't like to think of one of those cute little rabbits getting
+caught."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but how did you manage to get your hand in the way?" said West.</p>
+
+<p>She considered this problem for a little.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I can't explain that mystery to you," she said, at length. "You
+see, I'm only a woman, and women often do things that are very foolish."</p>
+
+<p>West's silence seemed to express tacit agreement with this assertion.</p>
+
+<p>"Anyway," she resumed, making a wry face, "it's done. You are not vexed
+because I made such a fuss?"</p>
+
+<p>There was an odd wistfulness in her tone. West, busy bandaging, did not
+raise his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't blame you for that," he said. "It must have hurt you
+infernally! If you take my advice, you will show it to a doctor."</p>
+
+<p>She screwed her face up a second time.</p>
+
+<p>"To please you, Mr. West?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," he responded curtly. "As a sensible precaution."</p>
+
+<p>"And if I don't happen to be remarkable for sense?" she suggested.</p>
+
+<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know," said Cynthia. "You say that to everything. It's getting
+rather monotonous. And I'm sure I'm very patient. You'll grant me that,
+at least?"</p>
+
+<p>He turned his ice-blue eyes upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not good at paying compliments, Miss Mortimer," he said cynically.
+"Twelve years in prison have rusted all my little accomplishments."</p>
+
+<p>She met his look with a smile, though her lips were quivering still.</p>
+
+<p>"My! What a pity!" she said. "Has your heart got rusty, too?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very," said West shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you rub it off?" she questioned.</p>
+
+<p>He uttered his ironic laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"There wouldn't be anything left if I did."</p>
+
+<p>"No?" she said whimsically. "Well, give it to me, and let me see what I
+can do!"</p>
+
+<p>His eyes fell away from her, and the grim line of his jaw hardened
+perceptibly.</p>
+
+<p>"That would be too hard a job even for you!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>She rose and put out her free hand to him. Her eyes were very soft and
+womanly. A quaint little smile yet hovered about her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I'll have a try," she said gently.</p>
+
+<p>He did not touch her hand, nor would he again meet her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"A hopeless task, I am afraid," he said. "And utterly unprofitable to
+all concerned. I am not a deserving object for your charity."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a trifle breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Mr. West, couldn't you put that into words of one syllable? You
+try, and perhaps then I'll listen to you, and give you my views as
+well."</p>
+
+<p>But West remained rigorously unresponsive. It was as if he were thinking
+of other things.</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia uttered a little sigh and turned to go.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye, Mr. West!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>He went with her to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I walk back with you?" he asked formally.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I'm better now, and it's quite light still beyond the trees.
+Good-bye, and&mdash;thank you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>He followed her to the gate, opened it for her, and stood there watching
+till he saw her emerge from the shadow cast by the overarching trees.
+Then&mdash;for he knew that the rest of the journey was no more than a few
+minutes' easy walk&mdash;he turned back into the house, and shut himself in.</p>
+
+<p>Entering the room he had just quitted, he locked the door, and there he
+remained for a long, long time.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VII</h3>
+
+<p>It was not till she descended to dinner that Cynthia's injured hand was
+noticed.</p>
+
+<p>She resolutely made light of it to all sympathisers but it was plain to
+Babbacombe, at least, that it gave her considerable pain.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me send for a doctor," he whispered, as she finally passed his
+chair.</p>
+
+<p>But she shook her head with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no. It will be all right in the morning."</p>
+
+<p>But when he saw her in the morning, he knew at once that this prophecy
+had not been fulfilled. She met his anxious scrutiny with a smile
+indeed, but her heavy eyes belied it. He knew that she had spent a
+sleepless night.</p>
+
+<p>"It wasn't my hand that kept me awake," she protested, when he charged
+her with this.</p>
+
+<p>But Babbacombe was dissatisfied.</p>
+
+<p>"Do see a doctor. I am sure it ought to be properly dressed," he urged.
+"I'll take you myself in the motor, if you will."</p>
+
+<p>She yielded at length to his persuasion, though plainly against her
+will, and an hour later they drove off together, leaving the rest of the
+party to follow the hounds.</p>
+
+<p>At the park gate they overtook West, walking swiftly. He raised his hat
+as they went by, but did not so much as look at Cynthia.</p>
+
+<p>A sudden silence fell upon her, and it was not till some minutes had
+passed that she broke it.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I tell you what kept me awake last night, Jack?" she said then.
+"I think you have a right to know."</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at her, encountering one of those smiles, half-sad,
+half-humorous, that he knew so well. "You will do exactly as you
+please," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"You're generous," she responded. "Well, I'll tell you. I was busy
+burying my poor foolish little romance."</p>
+
+<p>A deep glow showed suddenly upon Babbacombe's face. He was driving
+slowly, but he kept his eyes fixed steadily upon the stretch of muddy
+road ahead.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it dead, then?" he asked, his voice very low.</p>
+
+<p>She made a quaint gesture as of putting something from her.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, quite; and buried decently without any fuss. The blinds are up
+again, and I don't want any condolences. I'm going out into the sun,
+Jack. I'm going to live."</p>
+
+<p>"And what about me?" said Babbacombe.</p>
+
+<p>She turned in her quick way, and laid her hand upon his knee.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I've been thinking about you. I am going back to London to-morrow,
+and the first thing I shall do will be to find you a really good wife."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," he said, smiling a little. "But you needn't go to London
+for that."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shucks!" said Cynthia, colouring deeply. "There's more than one
+woman in the world, Jack."</p>
+
+<p>"Not for me," he said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>She was silent for a space. Then:</p>
+
+<p>"And if that one woman is such a sublime fool, such an ungrateful little
+beast, as not to be able to&mdash;to love you as you deserve to be loved?"
+she suggested, a slight break in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>He turned his head at that, and looked for an instant straight into her
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"She is still the one woman, dear," he said, very tenderly. "Always
+remember that."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head in protest. Her lips were quivering too much for
+speech.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe drove slowly on in silence.</p>
+
+<p>At last the hand upon his knee pressed slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"You can have her if you like, Jack," Cynthia murmured. "She's going
+mighty cheap."</p>
+
+<p>He freed his hand for a moment to grasp hers.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall follow her to London," he said, "and woo her there."</p>
+
+<p>She smiled at him gratefully and began to speak of other things.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor was out, to her evident relief. Babbacombe wanted to go in
+search of another, but she would not be persuaded.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure it will be all right to-morrow. If not, I shall be in town,
+and I can go to a doctor there. Please don't make a fuss about it. It's
+too absurd."</p>
+
+<p>Reluctantly he abandoned the argument, and they followed the hounds in
+the motor instead.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VIII</h3>
+
+<p>Babbacombe's guests departed upon the following day. Cynthia was among
+the first to leave. With a flushed face and sparkling eyes she made her
+farewells, and even Babbacombe, closely as he observed her, detected no
+hint of strain in her demeanour.</p>
+
+<p>Returning from the station in the afternoon after speeding some of his
+guests, he dropped into the local bank to change a cheque. The manager,
+with whom he was intimate, chanced to be present, and led him off to his
+own room.</p>
+
+<p>"By the way," he said, "we were just going to send you notice of an
+overdraft. That last big cheque of yours has left you a deficit."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe stared at him. He had barely a fortnight before deposited a
+large sum of money at the bank, and he had not written any large cheque
+since.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand," he said. "What cheque?"</p>
+
+<p>The manager looked at him sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, the cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds, which your agent
+presented yesterday," he said. "It bore your signature and was dated the
+previous day. You wrote it, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe was still staring blankly, but at the sudden question he
+pulled himself together.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that! Yes, to be sure. Careless of me. I gave him a blank cheque
+for the Millsand estate expenses some weeks ago. It must have been
+that."</p>
+
+<p>But though he spoke with a smiling face, his heart had gone suddenly
+cold with doubt. He knew full well that the expenses of which he spoke
+had been paid by West long before.</p>
+
+<p>He refused to linger, and went out again after a few commonplaces,
+feeling as if he had been struck a stunning blow between the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Driving swiftly back through the park, he recovered somewhat from the
+shock. There must be&mdash;surely there would be!&mdash;some explanation.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching West's abode he stopped the motor and descended. West was not
+in and he decided to wait for him, chafing at the delay.</p>
+
+<p>Standing at the window, he presently saw the man coming up the path. He
+moved slowly, with a certain heaviness, as though weary.</p>
+
+<p>As he opened the outer door, Babbacombe opened the inner and met him in
+the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"I dropped in to have a word with you," he said.</p>
+
+<p>West paused momentarily before shutting the door. His face was in
+shadow.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so," he said. "I saw the motor."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe turned back into the room. He was grappling with the hardest
+task he had ever had to tackle. West followed him in absolute silence.</p>
+
+<p>With an immense effort, Babbacombe spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"I was at the bank just now. I went to get some cash. I was told that my
+account was overdrawn. I can't understand it. There seems to have been
+some mistake."</p>
+
+<p>He paused, but West said nothing whatever. The light was beginning to
+fail, but his expressionless face was clearly visible. It held neither
+curiosity nor dismay.</p>
+
+<p>"I was told," Babbacombe said again, "that you cashed a cheque of mine
+yesterday for two hundred and fifty pounds. Is that so?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is," said West curtly.</p>
+
+<p>"And yet," Babbacombe proceeded, "I understood from you that the
+Millsand estate business was settled long ago."</p>
+
+<p>"It was," said West.</p>
+
+<p>"Then this cheque&mdash;this cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds&mdash;where
+did it come from, West?" There was a note of entreaty in Babbacombe's
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>West jerked up his head at the sound. It was a gesture openly
+contemptuous. "Can't you guess?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe stiffened at the callous question. "You refuse to answer me?"
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"That is my answer," said West.</p>
+
+<p>"I am to understand then that you have robbed me&mdash;that you have forged
+my signature to do so&mdash;that you&mdash;great heavens, man"&mdash;Babbacombe's
+amazement burst forth irresistibly&mdash;"it's incredible! Are you mad, I
+wonder? You can't have done it in your sober senses. You would never
+have been so outrageously clumsy."</p>
+
+<p>West shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"I am quite sane&mdash;only a little out of practice."</p>
+
+<p>His words were like a shower of icy water. Babbacombe contracted
+instantly.</p>
+
+<p>"You wish me to believe that you did this thing in cold blood&mdash;that you
+deliberately meant to do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly I meant to do it," said West.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" said Babbacombe.</p>
+
+<p>Again he gave the non-committal shrug, no more. There was almost a
+fiendish look in his eyes, as if somewhere in his soul a demon leaped
+and jeered.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me why," Babbacombe persisted.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should I tell you?" said West.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe hesitated for an instant; then gravely, kindly, he made
+reply:</p>
+
+<p>"For the sake of the friendship that has been between us. I had not the
+faintest idea that you were in need of money. Why couldn't you tell me?"</p>
+
+<p>West made a restless movement. For the first time his hard stare shifted
+from Babbacombe's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Why go into these details?" he questioned harshly. "I warned you at the
+outset what to expect. I am a swindler to the backbone. The sooner you
+bundle me back to where I came from, the better. I sha'n't run away this
+time."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not prosecute," Babbacombe said.</p>
+
+<p>"You will not!" West blazed into sudden ferocity. He had the look of a
+wild animal at bay. "You are to prosecute!" he exclaimed violently. "Do
+you hear? I won't have any more of your damned charity! I'll go down
+into my own limbo and stay there, without let or hindrance from you or
+any other man. If you are fool enough to offer me another chance, as you
+call it, I am not fool enough to take it. The only thing I'll take from
+you is justice. Understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"You wish me to prosecute?" Babbacombe said.</p>
+
+<p>"I do!"</p>
+
+<p>The words came with passionate force. West stood in almost a threatening
+attitude. His eyes shone in the gathering dusk like the eyes of a
+crouching beast&mdash;a beast that has been sorely wounded, but that will
+fight to the last.</p>
+
+<p>The man's whole demeanour puzzled Babbacombe&mdash;his total lack of shame or
+penitence, his savagery of resentment. There was something behind it
+all&mdash;something he could not fathom, that baffled him, however he sought
+to approach it. In days gone by he had wondered if the fellow had a
+heart. That wonder was still in his mind. He himself had utterly failed
+to reach it if it existed. And Cynthia&mdash;even Cynthia&mdash;had failed. Yet,
+somehow, vaguely, he had a feeling that neither he nor Cynthia had
+understood.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what to say to you, West," he said at length.</p>
+
+<p>"Why say anything?" said West.</p>
+
+<p>"Because," Babbacombe said slowly, "I don't believe&mdash;I can't
+believe&mdash;that simply for the sake of a paltry sum like that you would
+have risked so much. You could have swindled me in a thousand ways
+before now, and done it easily, too, with small chance of being found
+out. But this&mdash;this was bound to be discovered sooner or later. You must
+have known that. Then why, why in heaven's name did you do it? Apart
+from every other consideration, it was so infernally foolish. It wasn't
+like you to do a thing like that." He paused, then suddenly clapped an
+urgent hand upon the swindler's shoulder. "West," he said, "I'll swear
+that you never played this game with me for your own advantage. Tell the
+truth, man! Be honest with me in heaven's name! Give me the chance of
+judging you fairly! It isn't much to ask."</p>
+
+<p>West drew back sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should I be honest with you?" he demanded. "You have never been
+honest with me from the very outset. I owe you nothing in that line, at
+all events."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke passionately still, yet not wholly without restraint. He was as
+a man fighting desperate odds, and guarding some precious possession
+while he fought. But these words of his were something of a revelation
+to Babbacombe. He changed his ground to pursue it.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by that?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know very well!" West flung the words from between set teeth, and
+with them he abruptly turned his back upon Babbacombe, lodging his arms
+upon the mantelpiece. "I am not going into details on that point or any
+other. But the fact is there, and you know it. You have never been
+absolutely straight in your dealings with me. I knew you weren't. I
+always knew it. But how crooked you were I did not know till lately. If
+you had been any other man, I believe I should have given you a broken
+head for your pains. But you are so damnably courteous, as well as such
+an unutterable fool!" He broke off with a hard laugh and a savage kick
+at the coals in front of him. "I couldn't see myself doing it," he said,
+"humbug as you are."</p>
+
+<p>"And so you took this method of making me suffer?" Babbacombe suggested,
+his voice very quiet and even.</p>
+
+<p>"You may say so if it satisfies you," said West, without turning.</p>
+
+<p>"It does not satisfy me!" There was a note of sternness in the steady
+rejoinder. "It satisfies me so little that I insist upon an explanation.
+Turn round and tell me what you mean."</p>
+
+<p>But West stood motionless and silent, as though hewn in granite.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe waited with that in his face which very few had ever seen
+there. At last, as West remained stubborn, he spoke again:</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you have found out my original reason for giving you a fresh
+start in life, and you resent my having kept it a secret."</p>
+
+<p>"I resent the reason." West tossed the words over his shoulder as though
+he uttered them against his will.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure even now that you know what that reason was?" Babbacombe
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure of one thing!" West spoke quickly, vehemently, as a man
+shaken by some inner storm. "Had I been in your place&mdash;had the woman I
+wanted to marry asked me to bring back into her life some worthless
+scamp to whom she had taken a sentimental fancy when she was scarcely
+out of the schoolroom, I'd have seen him damned first, and myself
+too&mdash;had I been in your place. I would have refused pointblank, even if
+it had meant the end of everything."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you would," Babbacombe said. The sternness had gone out of
+his voice, and a certain weariness had taken its place. "But you haven't
+quite hit the truth of the matter. Since you have guessed so much you
+had better know the whole. I did not do this thing by request. I
+undertook it voluntarily. If I had not done so, some other
+means&mdash;possibly some less discreet means&mdash;would have been employed to
+gain the same end."</p>
+
+<p>"I see!" West's head was bent. He seemed to be closely examining the
+marble on which his arms rested. "Well," he said abruptly, "you've told
+me the truth. I will do the same to you. This business has got to end. I
+have done my part towards bringing that about. And now you must do
+yours. You will have to prosecute, whether you like it or not. It is the
+only way."</p>
+
+<p>"What?" Babbacombe said sharply.</p>
+
+<p>West turned at last. The glare had gone out of his eyes&mdash;they were cold
+and still as an Arctic sky.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we understand one another," he said. "I see you don't like your
+job. But you'll stick to it, for all that. There must be an end&mdash;a
+painless end if possible, without regrets. She has got to realise that
+I'm a swindler to the marrow of my bones, that I couldn't turn to and
+lead a decent, honourable life&mdash;even for love of her."</p>
+
+<p>The words fell grimly, but there was no mockery in the steely eyes, no
+feeling of any sort. They looked full at Babbacombe with unflickering
+steadiness, that was all.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe listened in the silence of a great amazement. Vaguely he had
+groped after the truth, but he had never even dimly imagined this. It
+struck him dumb&mdash;this sudden glimpse of a man's heart which till that
+moment had been so strenuously hidden from him.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear fellow," he said at last; "but this is insanity!"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," West returned, unmoved. "They say every man has his mania.
+This is mine, and it is a very harmless one. It won't hurt you to humour
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;good heavens!&mdash;have you thought of her?" Babbacombe exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"I am thinking of her only," West answered quietly. "And I am asking you
+to do the same, both now and after you have married her."</p>
+
+<p>"And send you to perdition to secure her peace of mind? A thousand
+times&mdash;no!" Babbacombe turned, and began to pace the room as though his
+feelings were too much for him. But very soon he stopped in front of
+West, and spoke with grave resolution. "Look here," he said, "I think
+you know that her happiness is more to me than anything else in the
+world, except my honour. To you it seems to be even more than that. And
+now listen, for as man to man I tell you the truth. You hold her
+happiness in the hollow of your hand!"</p>
+
+<p>West's face remained as a mask; his eyes never varied.</p>
+
+<p>"You can change all that," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not even sure that I shall try."</p>
+
+<p>"What then?" said West. "Are you suggesting that the woman you love
+should marry an ex-convict&mdash;a notorious swindler, a blackguard?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think," Babbacombe answered firmly, "that she ought to be allowed to
+decide that point."</p>
+
+<p>"Allowed to ruin herself without interference," substituted West,
+sneering faintly. "Well, I don't agree with you, and I shall never give
+her the opportunity. You won't move me from that if you argue till
+Doomsday. So, in heaven's name, take what the gods offer, and leave me
+alone. Marry her. Give her all a good woman ever wants&mdash;a happy home, a
+husband who worships her, and children for her to worship, and you will
+soon find that I have dropped below the horizon."</p>
+
+<p>He swung round again to the fire, and drove the poker hard into the
+coals.</p>
+
+<p>"And find another agent as soon as possible," he said; "a respectable
+one this time, one who won't let you down when you are not looking, who
+won't call you a fool when you make mistakes&mdash;in short, a gentleman.
+There are plenty of them about. But they are not to be found in the
+world's rubbish heap. There's nothing but filth and broken crockery
+there."</p>
+
+<p>He ended with his brief, cynical laugh, and Babbacombe knew that further
+discussion would be vain. For good or ill the swindler had made his
+decision, and he realised that no effort of his would alter it. To
+attempt to do so would be to beat against a stone wall&mdash;a struggle in
+which he might possibly hurt himself, but which would make no difference
+whatever to the wall.</p>
+
+<p>Reluctantly he abandoned the argument, and prepared to take his
+departure.</p>
+
+<p>But later, as he drove home, the man's words recurred to him and dwelt
+long in his memory. Their bitterness seemed to cloak something upon
+which no eye had ever looked&mdash;a regret unspeakable, a passionate
+repentance that found no place.</p>
+
+
+<h3>IX</h3>
+
+<p>"I have just discovered of whom it is that your very unpleasant agent
+reminds me," observed Lady Cottesbrook at the breakfast-table on the
+following morning. "It flashed upon me suddenly. He is the very image of
+that nasty person, Nat Verney, who swindled such a crowd of people a few
+years ago. I was present at part of his trial, and a more callous,
+thoroughly insolent creature I never saw. I suppose he is still in
+prison. I forget exactly what the sentence was, but I know it was a long
+one. I should think this man must be his twin-brother, Jack. I never saw
+a more remarkable likeness."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe barely glanced up from his letter. "You are always finding
+that the people you don't like resemble criminals, Ursula," he said,
+with something less than his usual courtesy. "Did you say you were
+leaving by the eleven-fifty? I think I shall come with you."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Jack, how you change! I thought you were going to stay down
+here for another week."</p>
+
+<p>"I was," he answered. "But I have had a line from Cynthia to tell me
+that her hand is poisoned from that infernal trap. It may be very
+serious. It probably is, or she would not have written."</p>
+
+<p>That note of Cynthia's had in fact roused his deepest anxiety. He had
+fancied all along that she had deliberately made light of the injury.
+Soon after three o'clock he was in town, and he hastened forthwith to
+Cynthia's flat in Mayfair.</p>
+
+<p>He found her on a couch in her dainty boudoir, lying alone before the
+fire. Her eyes shone like stars in her white face as she greeted him.</p>
+
+<p>"It was just dear of you to come so soon," she said. "I kind of thought
+you would. I'm having a really bad time for once, and I thought you'd
+like to know."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me about it," he said, sitting down beside her.</p>
+
+<p>Her left hand lay in his for a few moments, but after a little she
+softly drew it away. Her right was in a sling.</p>
+
+<p>"There's hardly anything to tell," she said. "Only my arm is bad right
+up to the shoulder, and the doctor is putting things on the wound so
+that it sha'n't leave off hurting night or day. I dreamt I was Dante
+last night. But no, I won't tell you about that. It was too horrible.
+I've never been really sick before, Jack. It frightens me some. I sent
+for you because I felt I wanted&mdash;a friend to talk to. It was
+outrageously selfish of me."</p>
+
+<p>"It was the kindest thing you could do," Babbacombe said.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but you mustn't misunderstand." A note of wistfulness sounded in
+the high voice. "You won't misunderstand, will you, Jack? I only want&mdash;a
+friend."</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't be afraid, Cynthia," he said. "I shall never attempt to be
+anything else to you without your free consent."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," she murmured. "I know I'm very mean. But I had such a bad
+night. I thought that all the devils in hell were jeering at me because
+I had told you my romance was dead. Oh, Jack! it was a great big lie,
+and it's come home to roost. I can't get rid of it. It won't die."</p>
+
+<p>He heard the quiver of tears in her confession, and set his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," he said, "don't fret about that. I knew it at the bottom of
+my heart."</p>
+
+<p>She reached out her hand to him again. "I hate myself for treating you
+like this," she whispered. "But I&mdash;I'm lonely, and I can't help it.
+You&mdash;you shouldn't be so kind."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, child, don't grudge me your friendship," he said. "It is the
+dearest thing I have."</p>
+
+<p>"It's so hard," wailed Cynthia, "that I can give you so little, when I
+would so gladly give all if I could."</p>
+
+<p>"You are not to blame yourself for that," he answered steadily. "You
+loved each other before I ever met you."</p>
+
+<p>"Loved each other!" she said. "Do you really mean that, Jack?"</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated. He had not intended to say so much.</p>
+
+<p>"Jack," she urged piteously, "then you think he really cares?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you know it, Cynthia?" he asked, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"My heart knows it," she said brokenly. "But my mind isn't sure. Do you
+know, Jack, I almost proposed to him because I felt so sure he cared.
+And he&mdash;he just looked beyond me, as if&mdash;as if he didn't even hear."</p>
+
+<p>"He thinks he isn't good enough for you," Babbacombe said, with an
+effort. "I don't think he will ever be persuaded to act otherwise. He
+seems to consider himself hopelessly handicapped."</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you say that?" whispered Cynthia.</p>
+
+<p>He had not meant to tell her. It was against his will that he did so;
+but he felt impelled to do it. For her peace of mind it seemed
+imperative that she should understand.</p>
+
+<p>And so, in a few words, he told her of West's abortive attempt to plunge
+a second time into the black depths from which he had so recently
+escaped, of the man's absolutely selfless devotion, of his rigid refusal
+to suffer even her love for him to move him from this attitude.</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia listened with her bright eyes fixed unswervingly upon
+Babbacombe's face. She made no comment of any sort when he ended. She
+only pressed his hand.</p>
+
+<p>He remained with her for some time, and when he got up to go at length,
+it was with manifest reluctance. He lingered beside her after he had
+spoken his farewell, as though he still had something to say.</p>
+
+<p>"You will come again soon," said Cynthia.</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow," he answered. "And&mdash;Cynthia, there is just one thing I want
+to say."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him questioningly.</p>
+
+<p>"Only this," he said. "You sent for me because you wanted a friend. I
+want you from now onward to treat me and to think of me in that light
+only. As I now see things, I do not think I shall ever be anything more
+to you than just that. Remember it, won't you, and make use of me in any
+way that you wish. I will gladly do anything."</p>
+
+<p>The words went straight from his heart to hers. Cynthia's eyes filled
+with sudden tears. She reached out and clasped his hand very closely.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Jack," she said softly; "you're just the best friend I have in the
+world, and I sha'n't forget it&mdash;ever."</p>
+
+<p>He called early on the following day, and received the information that
+she was keeping her bed by the doctor's orders. Later in the day he went
+again, and found that the doctor was with her. He decided to wait, and
+paced up and down the drawing-room for nearly an hour. Eventually the
+doctor came.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe knew him slightly, and was not surprised when, at sight of
+him in the doorway, the doctor turned aside at once, and entered the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Mortimer told me I should probably see you," he said, "and if I
+did so, she desired me to tell you everything. I am sorry to say that I
+think very seriously of the injury. I have just been persuading her to
+go into a private nursing-home. This is no place to be ill in, and I
+shall have to perform a slight operation to-morrow which will
+necessitate the use of an an&aelig;sthetic."</p>
+
+<p>"An operation!" Babbacombe exclaimed, aghast.</p>
+
+<p>"It is absolutely imperative," the doctor said, "to get at the seat of
+the poison. I am making every effort to prevent the mischief spreading
+any further. Should the operation fail, no power on earth will save her
+hand. It may mean the arm as well."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe listened to further explanations, sick at heart.</p>
+
+<p>"When do you propose to move her?" he asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>"At once. I am going now to make arrangements."</p>
+
+<p>"May I go in and see her if she will admit me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't advise it to-night. She is excited and overstrung. To-morrow,
+perhaps, if all goes well. Come round to my house at two o'clock, and I
+will let you know."</p>
+
+<p>But Babbacombe did not see her the next day, for it was found advisable
+to keep her absolutely quiet. The doctor was very reticent, but he
+gathered from his manner that he entertained very grave doubts as to the
+success of his treatment.</p>
+
+<p>On the day following he telephoned to Babbacombe to meet him at the home
+in the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe arrived before the time appointed, and spent half an hour in
+sick suspense, awaiting the doctor's coming.</p>
+
+<p>The latter entered at last, and greeted him with a serious face.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to let you see Miss Mortimer," he said. "What I feared from
+the outset has taken place. The mischief was neglected too long at the
+beginning. There is nothing for it but amputation of the hand. And it
+must be performed without delay."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe said something inarticulate that resolved itself with an
+effort into:</p>
+
+<p>"Have you told her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I have." The doctor's voice was stern. "And she absolutely refuses
+to consent to it. I have given her till to-morrow morning to make up her
+mind. After that&mdash;" He paused a moment, and looked Babbacombe straight
+in the face. "After that," he said, with emphasis, "it will be too
+late."</p>
+
+<p>When Babbacombe entered Cynthia's presence a few minutes later, he
+walked as a man dazed. He found her lying among pillows, with the
+sunlight streaming over her, transforming her brown hair into a mass of
+sparkling gold. The old quick, gracious smile welcomed him as he bent
+over her. There were deep shadows about her eyes, but they were
+wonderfully bright. The hand she gave him was as cold as ice, despite
+the flush upon her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"You have been told?" she questioned. "Yes, I see you have. Now, don't
+preach to me, Jack&mdash;dear Jack. It's too shocking to talk about. Can you
+believe it? I can't. I've always been so clever with my hands. Have you
+a pencil? I want you to take down a wire for me."</p>
+
+<p>In her bright, imperious way, she dominated him. It was well-nigh
+impossible to realise that she was dangerously ill.</p>
+
+<p>He sat down beside her with pencil and paper.</p>
+
+<p>"Address it to Mr. West," said Cynthia, her eyes following his fingers.
+"Yes. And now put just this: 'I am sick, and wanting you. Will you
+come?&mdash;Cynthia.' And write the address. Do you think he'll come, Jack?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let me add 'Urgent,'" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Jack. You are not to. Add nothing. If he doesn't come for that, he
+will never come at all. And I sha'n't wait for him," she added under her
+breath.</p>
+
+<p>She seemed impatient for him to depart and despatch the message, but
+when he took his leave her eyes followed him with a wistful gratitude
+that sent a thrill to his heart. She had taken him at his word, and had
+made him her friend in need.</p>
+
+
+<h3>X</h3>
+
+<p>"If he doesn't come for that, he will never come at all."</p>
+
+<p>Over and over Cynthia whispered the words to herself as she lay, with
+her wide, shining eyes upon the door, waiting. She was a gambler who had
+staked all on the final throw, and she was watching, weak and ill as she
+was after long suffering, watching restlessly, persistently, for the
+result of that last great venture. Surely he would come&mdash;surely&mdash;surely!</p>
+
+<p>Once she spoke imperiously to the nurse.</p>
+
+<p>"If a gentleman named West calls, I must see him at once, whatever the
+hour."</p>
+
+<p>The nurse raised no obstacle. Perhaps she realised that it would do more
+harm than good to thwart her patient's caprice.</p>
+
+<p>And so hour after hour Cynthia lay waiting for the answer to her
+message, and hour followed hour in slow, uneventful procession, bringing
+her neither comfort nor repose.</p>
+
+<p>At length the doctor came and offered her morphia, but she refused it,
+with feverish emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, no! I don't want to sleep. I am expecting a friend."</p>
+
+<p>"Won't it do in the morning?" he said persuasively.</p>
+
+<p>Her grey eyes flashed eager inquiry up at him.</p>
+
+<p>"He is here?"</p>
+
+<p>The doctor nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"He has been here some time, but I hoped you would settle down. I want
+you to sleep."</p>
+
+<p>Sleep! Cynthia almost laughed. How inexplicably foolish were even the
+cleverest of men!</p>
+
+<p>"I will see him now," she said. "And, please, alone," as the doctor made
+a sign to the nurse.</p>
+
+<p>He moved away reluctantly, and again she almost laughed at his
+imbecility.</p>
+
+<p>But a minute later she had forgotten everything in the world save that
+upon which her eyes rested&mdash;a short, broad-shouldered man, clean-shaven,
+with piercing blue eyes that looked straight at her with
+something&mdash;something in their expression that made the heart within her
+leap and quiver like the strings of an instrument under a master hand.</p>
+
+<p>He came quietly to the bedside, and stood looking down upon her, not
+uttering a word.</p>
+
+<p>She stretched up her trembling hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm very glad to see you," she said weakly. "You got my message?
+It&mdash;it&mdash;I hope it didn't annoy you."</p>
+
+<p>"It didn't," said West.</p>
+
+<p>His voice was curt and strained. His fingers had closed very tightly
+upon her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down," murmured Cynthia. "No, don't let go. It helps me
+some to have you hold my hand. Mr. West, I've got to tell you
+something&mdash;something that will make you really angry. I'm rather
+frightened, too. It's because I'm sick. You&mdash;you must just make
+allowances."</p>
+
+<p>A light kindled in West's eyes that shone like a blue flame, but still
+he held himself rigid, inflexible as a figure hewn in granite.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray don't distress yourself, Miss Mortimer," he said stiffly.
+"Wouldn't it be wiser to wait till you are better before you go any
+further?"</p>
+
+<p>"I never shall be better," Cynthia rejoined, a tremor of passion in her
+voice, "I never shall go any further, unless you hear me out to-night."</p>
+
+<p>West frowned a little, but still that strange light shone in his steady
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I am quite at your service," he said, "either now or at any future
+time. But if this interview should make you worse&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shucks!" said Cynthia, with a ghostly little smile. "Don't talk
+through your hat, Mr. West!"</p>
+
+<p>West became silent. He was still holding her hand in a warm, close grasp
+that never varied.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's get to business," said Cynthia, with an effort to be brisk. "It
+begins with a confession. You know better than any one how I managed to
+hurt my hand so badly. But even you don't know everything. Even you
+never suspected that&mdash;that it wasn't an accident at all; that, in fact,
+I did it on purpose."</p>
+
+<p>She broke off for a moment, avoiding his eyes, but clinging tightly to
+his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I did it," she went on breathlessly&mdash;"I did it because I heard you in
+the drive below, and I wanted to attract your attention. I couldn't see
+you, but I knew it was you. I was just going to spring the trap with my
+foot, and then&mdash;and then I heard you, and I stooped down&mdash;it came to me
+to do it, and I never stopped to think&mdash;I stooped down and put my hand
+in the way. I never thought&mdash;I never thought it would hurt so
+frightfully, or that it could come to this."</p>
+
+<p>She was crying as she ended, crying piteously; while West sat like a
+stone image, gazing at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do speak to me!" she sobbed. "Do say something! Do you know what
+they want to do? But I won't let them&mdash;I won't let them! It&mdash;it's too
+dreadful a thing to happen to a woman. I can't bear it. I won't bear it.
+It will be much easier to die. But you shall know the truth first."</p>
+
+<p>"Cynthia, stop!" It was West's voice at last, but not as she had ever
+heard it. It came from him hoarse and desperate, as though wrung by the
+extreme of torture. He had sunk to his knees by the bed. His face was
+nearer to hers than it had ever been before. "Don't cry!" he begged her
+huskily. "Don't cry! Why do you tell me this if it hurts you to tell
+me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I want you to know!" gasped Cynthia. "Wait! Let me finish! I
+wanted&mdash;to see&mdash;if&mdash;if you really cared for me. I thought&mdash;if you
+did&mdash;you wouldn't be able to go on pretending. But&mdash;but&mdash;you managed
+to&mdash;somehow&mdash;after all."</p>
+
+<p>She ended, battling with her tears; and West, the strong, the cold, the
+cynical, bowed his head upon her hand and groaned.</p>
+
+<p>"It was for&mdash;your own sake," he muttered brokenly, without looking up.</p>
+
+<p>"I know," whispered back Cynthia. "That was just what made it so
+impossible to bear. Because, you see, I cared, too."</p>
+
+<p>He was silent, breathing heavily.</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia watched his bent head wistfully, but she did not speak again
+till she had mastered her own weakness.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. West," she said softly at length.</p>
+
+<p>He stirred, pressing her hand more tightly to his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to tell you now," proceeded Cynthia, "just why I asked you
+to come to me. I suppose you know all about this trouble of mine&mdash;that I
+shall either die very soon, or else have to carry my arm in a sling for
+the rest of my life. Now that's where you come in. Would you&mdash;would you
+feel very badly if I died, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>He raised his head at that, and she saw his face as she had seen it once
+long ago&mdash;alert, vital, full of the passionate intensity of his love for
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"You sha'n't die!" he declared fiercely. "Who says you are going to
+die?"</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia's eyes fell before the sudden fire that blazed at her from his.
+"Unless I consent to be a cripple all my days," she said, with a curious
+timidity wholly unlike her usual dainty confidence.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you will consent," West said, sweeping down her half-offered
+resistance with sheer, overmastering strength. "You'll face this thing
+like the brave woman you are. Good heavens! As if there were any
+choice!"</p>
+
+<p>"There is," Cynthia whispered, looking at him shyly, through lowered
+lids. "There is a choice. But it rests with you. Mr. West, if you want
+me to do this thing&mdash;if you really want me to, and it's a big thing to
+do, even for you&mdash;I'll do it. There! I'll do it! I'll go on living like
+a chopped worm for your sake. But&mdash;but&mdash;you'll have to do something for
+me in return. Now I wonder if you can guess what I'm hinting at?"</p>
+
+<p>West's face changed. The eagerness went out of it. Something of his
+habitual grimness of expression returned.</p>
+
+<p>Yet his voice was full of tenderness when he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Cynthia," he said very earnestly, "there is nothing on this earth that
+I will not do for you. But don't ask me to be the means of ruining you
+socially, of depriving you of all your friends, of degrading you to a
+position that would break your heart."</p>
+
+<p>A glimmer of amusement flashed across Cynthia's drawn face.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" she said, a little quiver in her voice. "You are funny, you men,
+dull as moles and blind as bats. My dear, there's only one person in
+this little universe who has the power to break my heart, and it isn't
+any fault of his that he didn't do it long ago. No, don't speak. There's
+nothing left for you to say. The petition is dismissed, but not the
+petitioner; so listen to me instead. I've a sentimental fancy to be able
+to have 'Mrs. Nat V. West' written on my tombstone in the event of my
+demise to-morrow. I want you to make arrangements for the same."</p>
+
+<p>"Cynthia!"</p>
+
+<p>The word was almost a cry, but she checked it, her fingers on his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"You great big silly!" she murmured, laughing weakly. "Where's your
+sense of humour? Can't you see I'm not going to die? But I'm going to be
+Mrs. Nat V. West all the same. Now, is that quite understood, I wonder?
+Because I don't want to cry any more&mdash;I'm tired."</p>
+
+<p>"You wish to marry me in the morning&mdash;before the operation?" West said,
+speaking almost under his breath.</p>
+
+<p>His face was close to hers. She looked him suddenly straight in the
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, just that," she told him softly. "I want&mdash;dear&mdash;I want to go to
+sleep, holding my husband's hand."</p>
+
+
+<h3>XI</h3>
+
+<p>"It's a clear case of desertion," declared Cynthia imperturbably, two
+months later. "But never mind that now, Jack. How do you like my sling?
+Isn't it just the cutest thing in creation?"</p>
+
+<p>"You look splendid," Babbacombe said with warmth, but he surveyed her
+with slightly raised brows notwithstanding.</p>
+
+<p>She nodded brightly in response.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm not worrying any, I assure you. You don't believe me, I see. So
+here's something for you to read that will set your mind at rest."</p>
+
+<p>Babbacombe read, with a slowly clearing face. The note he held was in
+his agent's handwriting.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"I am leaving you to-day, for I feel, now you are well again, that
+you will find it easier in my absence to consider very carefully
+your position. Your marriage to me was simply an act of impulse. I
+gave way in the matter because you were in no state to be thwarted.
+But if, after consideration, you find that that act was a mistake,
+dictated by weakness, and heaven knows what besides of generosity
+and pity, something may yet be done to remedy it. It has never been
+published, and, if you are content to lead a single life, no one
+who matters need ever know that it took place. I am returning to my
+work at Farringdean for the present. I am aware that you may find
+some difficulty in putting your feelings in this matter into words.
+If so, I shall understand your silence.</p>
+
+<p>Yours,</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">N. V. West.</span>"</p></div>
+
+<p>"Isn't he quaint?" said Cynthia, with a little gay grimace. "Now do you
+know what I'm going to do, Jack? I'm going to get a certain good friend
+of mine to drive me all the way to Farringdean in his motor. It's
+Sunday, you know, and all the fates conspire to make the trains
+impossible."</p>
+
+<p>"How soon do you wish to start?" asked Babbacombe.</p>
+
+<p>"Right away!" laughed Cynthia. "And if we don't get run in for exceeding
+the speed limit, we ought to be there by seven."</p>
+
+<p>It was as a matter of fact barely half-past six when Babbacombe turned
+the motor in at the great gates of Farringdean Park. A sound of
+church-bells came through the evening twilight. The trees of the avenue
+were still bare, but there was a misty suggestion of swelling buds in
+the saplings. The wind that softly rustled through them seemed to
+whisper a special secret to each.</p>
+
+<p>"I like those bells," murmured Cynthia. "They make one feel almost holy.
+Jack, you're not fretting over me?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, dear," said Babbacombe steadily.</p>
+
+<p>She squeezed his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm so glad, for&mdash;honest Injun&mdash;I'm not worth it. Good-bye, then, dear
+Jack! Just drive straight away directly you've put me down. I shall find
+my own way in."</p>
+
+<p>He took her at her word as he always did, and, having deposited her at
+the gate under the trees that led to his bailiff's abode, he shot
+swiftly away into the gathering dusk without a single glance behind.</p>
+
+<p>West, entering his home a full hour later, heavy-footed, the inevitable
+cigarette between his lips, was surprised to discover, on hanging up his
+cap, a morsel of white pasteboard stuck jauntily into the glass of the
+hatstand. It seemed to fling him an airy challenge. He stooped to look.
+A lady's visiting-card! Mrs. Nat V. West!</p>
+
+<p>A deep flush rose suddenly in his weather-beaten face. He seized the
+card, and crushed it against his lips.</p>
+
+<p>But a few moments later, when he opened his dining-room door, there was
+no hint of emotion in his bearing. He bore himself with the rigidity of
+a man who knows he has a battle before him.</p>
+
+<p>The room was aglow with flickering firelight, and out of the glow a high
+voice came&mdash;a cheery, inconsequent voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, here you are at last! Come right in and light the lamp. Did you see
+my card? Ah, I knew you would be sure to look at yourself directly you
+came in. There's nobody at home but me. I suppose your old woman's gone
+to church. I've been waiting for you such a while&mdash;twelve years and a
+bit. Just think of it."</p>
+
+<p>She was standing on the hearth waiting for him, but since he moved but
+slowly she stepped forward to meet him, her hand impetuously
+outstretched.</p>
+
+<p>He took it, held it closely, let it go.</p>
+
+<p>"We must talk things over," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid!" said Cynthia. "Where shall we begin? Never mind the lamp.
+Let's sit by the fire and be cosy."</p>
+
+<p>He moved forward with her&mdash;it was impossible to do otherwise&mdash;but there
+was no yielding in his action. He held himself as straight and stiff as
+a soldier on parade. He had bitten through his cigarette, and he tossed
+it into the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Now sit down!" said Cynthia hospitably. "That chair is for you, and I
+am going to curl up on the floor at your feet as becomes a dutiful
+wife."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't, Cynthia!" he said under his breath. But she had her way,
+nevertheless. There were times when she seemed able to attain this with
+scarcely an effort.</p>
+
+<p>She seated herself on the hearthrug with her face to the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on," she said, in a tone of gentle encouragement; "I'm listening."</p>
+
+<p>West's eyes stared beyond her into the flames.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't much to say," he said quietly at length. "Only this. You are
+acting without counting the cost. There is a price to pay for
+everything, but the price you will have to pay for this is heavier than
+you realise. There should be&mdash;there can be&mdash;no such thing as equality
+between a woman in your position&mdash;a good woman&mdash;and a blackguard in
+mine."</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia made a little gesture of impatience without turning her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you needn't treat me as if I were on a different plane," she said.
+"I'm a sinner, too, in my own humble way. It's unreasonable of you to go
+on like that, unkind as well. I may be only a sprat in your estimation,
+but even a sprat has its little feelings, its little heartaches, too, I
+daresay." She broke off with a sigh and a laugh; then, drawing
+impulsively nearer to him, but still without turning: "Do you remember
+once, ages and ages ago, you were on the verge of saying something to
+me, of&mdash;telling me something? And we were interrupted. Mr. West, I've
+been waiting all these years to hear what that something was."</p>
+
+<p>West did not stir an eyelid. His face was stern and hard.</p>
+
+<p>"I forget," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She turned upon him then, raising a finger and pointing straight at him.</p>
+
+<p>"That," she said, with conviction, "is just one of your lies!"</p>
+
+<p>West became silent, still staring fixedly into the fire.</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia drew nearer still. She touched his breast with her outstretched
+finger.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. West," she said gravely, "I suppose you'll have to leave off being
+a blackguard, and take to being an honest man. That's the only solution
+of the difficulty that I can think of now that you have got a crippled
+wife to look after."</p>
+
+<p>He gripped her wrist, but still he would not look at her.</p>
+
+<p>"This is madness," he said, grinding out the words through clenched
+teeth. "You are making a fatal mistake. I am not fit to be your husband.
+It is not in my power to give you happiness."</p>
+
+<p>She did not shrink from his hold, though it was almost violent. Her eyes
+were shining like stars.</p>
+
+<p>"That," she said, with quaint assurance, "is just another of your lies."</p>
+
+<p>His hand relaxed slowly till her wrist was free.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know," he said, still with that iron self-suppression, "that
+only a few weeks ago I committed forgery?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Cynthia. "And I know why you did it, too. It wasn't exactly
+clever, but it was just dear of you all the same."</p>
+
+<p>The swindler's face quivered suddenly, uncontrollably. He tried to
+laugh&mdash;the old harsh laugh&mdash;but the sound he uttered was akin to
+something very different. He leaned forward sharply, and covered his
+face with his hands.</p>
+
+<p>And in that moment Cynthia knew that the walls of the citadel had fallen
+at last, so that it lay open for her to enter in.</p>
+
+<p>She knelt up quickly. Her arm slipped round his neck. She drew his head
+with soft insistence to her breast.</p>
+
+<p>"My own boy, it's over; forget it all. It wasn't meant to handicap you
+always. We'll have another deal now, please God, and start afresh as
+partners."</p>
+
+<p>There followed a pause&mdash;a silence that had in it something sacred. Then
+West raised himself, and took her face between his hands. For a moment
+he looked deep into her eyes, his own alight with a vital fire.</p>
+
+<p>Then, "As lovers, Cynthia," he said, and kissed her on the lips.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Nonentity" id="The_Nonentity"></a>The Nonentity</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+<p>"It is well known that those fight hardest who fight in vain," remarked
+Lord Ronald Prior complacently. "But I should have thought a woman of
+your intellect would have known better. It's such a rank waste of energy
+to struggle against Fate."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in the easy drawl habitual to him. His grey eyes held the
+pleasant smile that was seldom absent from them. Not in any fashion a
+striking personality, this; his kindest friend could not have called him
+imposing, nor could the most uncharitable have described him as anything
+worse than dull. Enemies he had none. His invariable good temper was his
+safeguard in this particular. The most offensive remark would not have
+provoked more than momentarily raised eyebrows.</p>
+
+<p>He was positively characterless, so Beryl Denvers told herself a dozen
+times a day. How could she possibly marry any one so neutral? And yet in
+his amiable, exasperatingly placid fashion he had for some time been
+laying siege to her affections. He had shaved off his beard because he
+had heard her say that she objected to hairy men, and he seemed to think
+that this sacrifice on his part entitled him to a larger share of her
+favour than the rest of the world, certainly much more than she was
+disposed to bestow.</p>
+
+<p>He had, in fact, assumed almost an air of proprietorship over her of
+late&mdash;a state of affairs which she strongly resented, but was powerless
+to alter. He had a little money, but no prospects to mention, and had
+never done anything worth doing in all his five-and-thirty years. And
+yet he seemed to think himself an eligible <i>parti</i> for one of the most
+popular women in the district. His social position gave him a certain
+precedence among her other admirers, but Beryl herself refused to
+recognise this. She thought him presumptuous, and snubbed him
+accordingly.</p>
+
+<p>But Lord Ronald's courtship seemed to thrive upon snubs. He was never in
+the least disconcerted thereby. He hadn't the brains to take offence,
+she told herself impatiently, and yet somewhere at the back of her mind
+there lurked a vagrant suspicion that he was not always as obtuse as he
+seemed.</p>
+
+<p>She had been rude to him on the present occasion and he had retaliated
+with his smiling speech regarding her intellect which had made her feel
+vaguely uncomfortable. It might have been&mdash;it probably was&mdash;an effort at
+bluff on his part, but, uttered by any other man, it would have had
+almost a hectoring sound.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't the smallest notion what you mean," she said, after a decided
+pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Charmed to explain," he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray don't trouble!" she rejoined severely. "It doesn't signify in the
+least. Explanations always bore me."</p>
+
+<p>Lord Ronald smiled his imperturbable smile and flicked a gnat from his
+sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>"Especially when they are futile, eh, Mrs. Denvers? I'm not fond of 'em
+myself. Haven't much ability for that sort of thing."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you any ability for anything, I wonder?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>He turned his smooth, good-humoured countenance towards her. It wore a
+speculative look, as though he were wondering if by any chance she could
+have meant to be nasty.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, rather!" he said. "I can do quite a lot of things&mdash;and decently,
+too&mdash;from boiling potatoes to taming snakes. Never heard me play the
+cornet, have you?"</p>
+
+<p>Beryl remarked somewhat unnecessarily that she detested the cornet. She
+seemed to be thoroughly exasperated with him for some reason, and
+evidently wished that he would take his leave. But this fact had not
+apparently yet penetrated to Lord Ronald's understanding, for he was the
+most obliging of men at all times, and surely would never have dreamed
+of intruding his presence where it was unwelcome.</p>
+
+<p>He sat on his favourite perch, the music-stool, and swung himself gently
+to and fro while he mildly upheld the virtues of the instrument she had
+slighted.</p>
+
+<p>"I was asked to perform at a smoker the other night at the barracks," he
+said. "The men seemed to enjoy it immensely."</p>
+
+<p>"Soldiers like anything noisy," said Beryl Denvers scathingly.</p>
+
+<p>And then&mdash;because he had no retort ready&mdash;her heart smote her.</p>
+
+<p>"But it was kind of you to go," she said. "I am sure you wouldn't enjoy
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I did," he said, "on the whole. I should have liked it better
+if Fletcher hadn't been in the chair, and so, I think, would they. But
+it passed off very fairly well."</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you object to Major Fletcher?" Beryl's tone was slightly
+aggressive.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Ronald hesitated a little.</p>
+
+<p>"He isn't much liked," he told her vaguely.</p>
+
+<p>She frowned.</p>
+
+<p>"But that is no answer. Are you afraid to answer me?"</p>
+
+<p>He laughed at that, laughed easily and naturally, in the tolerant
+fashion that most exasperated her.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no; I'm not afraid. But I don't like hurting people's
+feelings&mdash;especially yours."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not see how that is possible," she rejoined, with dignity, "where
+my feelings are not concerned."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but that's where it is," he responded. "You like Fletcher well
+enough to be extremely indignant if anyone were to tell you that he is
+not a nice person for you to know."</p>
+
+<p>"I object to unpleasant insinuations regarding any one," she said, with
+slightly heightened colour. "They always appear to me cowardly."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but you asked, you know," Lord Ronald reminded her gently.</p>
+
+<p>Her colour deepened. It was not often that he got the better of her; not
+often, indeed, that he exerted himself to do so. She began to wish
+ardently that he would go. Really, he was quite insufferable to-day.</p>
+
+<p>Had he been a man of any perception whatever she would almost have
+thought that he fathomed her desire, for at this point he rose in a
+leisurely fashion as though upon the point of departure.</p>
+
+<p>She rose also from behind the tea-table with a little inward pricking of
+conscience for wishing him gone. She wondered if he deemed her
+inhospitable, but if he did he disguised it very carefully, for his eyes
+held nothing but friendliness as they met her own.</p>
+
+<p>"Has it never occurred to you," he said, "that you lead a very
+unprotected existence here?"</p>
+
+<p>Something in his expression checked her first impulse to resent the
+question. Her lip quivered unexpectedly.</p>
+
+<p>"Now and then," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you a man-hater?" he asked deliberately.</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a little.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you ask such an absurd question?"</p>
+
+<p>He seemed to hesitate momentarily.</p>
+
+<p>"Because&mdash;forgive me&mdash;wouldn't you be a good deal happier if you were to
+marry again?"</p>
+
+<p>Again her colour rose hotly. What did the man mean by assuming this
+attitude? Was he about to plead his own cause, or that of another?</p>
+
+<p>"I think it exceedingly doubtful," she replied stiffly, meeting his
+steady eyes with a hint of defiance.</p>
+
+<p>"You have never thought of such a thing perhaps?" he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>She smiled a woman's pitying smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I have thought of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you have not yet met the man to whom you would care to entrust
+yourself?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>She took fire at this. It was an act of presumption not to be borne.</p>
+
+<p>"Even if I had," she said, with burning cheeks, "I do not think I should
+make Lord Ronald Prior my confidant."</p>
+
+<p>"No?" he said. "Yet you might do worse."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes shot scorn.</p>
+
+<p>"Can a man be worse than inept?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he answered. "Since you ask me, I think he can&mdash;a good deal
+worse."</p>
+
+<p>"I detest colourless people!" she broke in vehemently.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"In fact, you prefer black sheep to grey sheep. A good many women do.
+But it doesn't follow that the preference is a wise one."</p>
+
+<p>The colour faded suddenly from her face. Did he know how ghastly a
+failure her first marriage had been? Most people knew. Could it be to
+this that he was referring? The bare suspicion made her wince.</p>
+
+<p>"That," she said icily, "is no one's affair but my own. I am not wholly
+ignorant of the ways of the world. And I know whom I can trust."</p>
+
+<p>"You trust me, for instance?" said Lord Ronald.</p>
+
+<p>She looked him up and down witheringly.</p>
+
+<p>"I should say you are quite the most harmless man I know."</p>
+
+<p>"And you don't like me in consequence," he drawled, meeting the look
+with eyes so intent that, half-startled, she lowered her own.</p>
+
+<p>She turned away from him with an impatient gesture. He had never managed
+to embarrass her before.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like you better if you weren't so officious," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"But you have no one else to look after you," objected Lord Ronald.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, in any case, it isn't your business," she threw back, almost
+inclined to laugh at his audacity.</p>
+
+<p>"It would be if you married me," he pointed out, as patiently as if he
+were dealing with a fractious child.</p>
+
+<p>"If I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She wheeled abruptly, amazed out of her disdain. It was the most prosaic
+proposal she had ever had.</p>
+
+<p>"If you married me," he repeated, keeping his eyes upon her. "You admit
+that I am harmless, so you would have nothing to fear from me. And as a
+watch-dog, I think you would find me useful&mdash;and quite easy to manage,"
+he added, with his serene smile.</p>
+
+<p>Beryl was staring at him in wide astonishment. Was the man mad to
+approach her thus?</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said. "I am quite sane; eccentric perhaps, but&mdash;as you are kind
+enough to observe&mdash;quite harmless. I never proposed to any woman before
+in my life, or so much as wanted to, so that must be my excuse for doing
+it badly. Really, you know, Mrs. Denvers, you might do worse than marry
+me. You might indeed."</p>
+
+<p>But at that her indignation broke bounds. If he were not mad, it made
+him the more intolerable. Did he fancy himself so desirable, then, that
+he had merely to fling her the handkerchief&mdash;to find her at his feet?
+His impertinence transcended belief. But she would pay him back in his
+own coin. He should never again imagine himself irresistible.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Lord Ronald," she said, "if I actually needed a
+protector&mdash;which I do not&mdash;you are the very last person to whom I should
+turn. And as to a husband&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She paused a moment, searching for words sufficiently barbed to
+penetrate even his complacency.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" he said gently, as if desirous to help her out.</p>
+
+<p>"As to a husband," she said, "if I ever marry again, it will be a man I
+can respect&mdash;a man who can hold his own in the world; a man who is
+really a man, and not&mdash;not a nonentity!"</p>
+
+<p>Impetuously she flung the words. For all his placidity, he seemed to
+possess the power to infuriate her. She longed intensely to move him to
+anger. She felt insulted by his composure, hating him because he
+remained so courteously attentive.</p>
+
+<p>He made no attempt to parry her thrust, nor did he seem to be
+disconcerted thereby. He merely listened imperturbably till she ceased
+to speak. Then:</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, well," he said good-humouredly, "you mustn't take me too seriously.
+It was only a suggestion, you know." He picked up his hat with the
+words. "A pity you can't see your way to fall in with it, but you know
+best. Good-bye for the present."</p>
+
+<p>Reluctantly, in response to his evident expectation, she gave him her
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you to understand, Lord Ronald," she said stiffly as she did so,
+"that my reply is final."</p>
+
+<p>He lifted his eyebrows for a second, and she fancied&mdash;could it have been
+mere fancy?&mdash;that the grey eyes shone with a certain steely
+determination that was assuredly foreign to his whole nature as he made
+deliberate reply:</p>
+
+<p>"That is quite understood, Mrs. Denvers. It was awfully kind of you to
+be so explicit. As you know, I am not good at taking hints."</p>
+
+<p>And with that he was gone, unruffled to the last, perfectly courteous,
+almost dignified, while she stood and watched his exit with a vague and
+disquieting suspicion that he had somehow managed to get the best of it
+after all.</p>
+
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<p>When Beryl Denvers first came to Kundaghat to be near her friend Mrs.
+Ellis, the Commissioner's wife, society in general openly opined that
+she had come to the populous Hill station to seek a husband. She was
+young, she was handsome, and she was free. It seemed the only reasonable
+conclusion to draw. But since that date society had had ample occasion
+to change its mind. Beryl Denvers plainly valued her freedom above every
+other consideration, and those who wooed her wooed in vain. She
+discouraged the attentions of all mankind with a rigour that never
+varied, till society began to think that her brief matrimonial
+experience had turned her into a man-hater. And yet this was hard to
+believe, for, though quick-tempered, she was not bitter. She was quite
+willing to be friendly with all men, up to a certain point. But beyond
+this subtle boundary few dared to venture and none remained. There was a
+wonderful fascination about her, a magnetism that few could resist; but
+notwithstanding this she held herself aloof, never wholly forgetting her
+caution even with those who considered themselves her intimates.</p>
+
+<p>Having dismissed Lord Ronald Prior, with whom she was almost
+unreasonably angry, she ordered her rickshaw and went out to cool her
+hot cheeks. The recent interview had disquieted her to the depths. She
+tried to regard his presumption as ludicrous, yet failed to do so. For
+what he had said was to a large extent true. She was unprotected, and
+she was also lonely, though this she never owned. She stifled a sigh as
+she set forth. Hitherto she had always liked Lord Ronald. Why had he
+couched his proposal in such impossible terms?</p>
+
+<p>She went to the polo-ground to watch the practice, and here found
+several friends in whose society she tried to forget her discomfiture.
+But it remained with her notwithstanding, and was still present when she
+returned to prepare for dinner. She was dining with the Ellises that
+night, and she hoped ardently that Lord Ronald would not make one of the
+party.</p>
+
+<p>But she was evidently destined for mortification that day, for the first
+thing she saw upon entering the drawing-room was his trim figure
+standing by her hostess. And, "Lord Ronald will take you in, dear," said
+Nina Ellis, as she greeted her.</p>
+
+<p>Beryl glanced at him, and he bowed in his courtly way. "I hope you don't
+mind," he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>She did mind exceedingly, but it was impossible to say so. She could
+only yield to the inevitable and rest the tips of her fingers upon his
+sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>It was with a decided sense of relief that she found Major Fletcher
+seated on her other side. A handsome, well-mannered cavalier was Major
+Fletcher, by every line of his figure a soldier, by every word of his
+conversation a gentleman. Exceedingly self-possessed at all times, it
+was seldom, if ever, that he laid himself open to a snub. It was
+probably for this very reason that Beryl liked him better than most of
+the men in Kundaghat, was less distant with him, and usually granted the
+very little that he asked of her.</p>
+
+<p>She turned to him at once with a random remark about the polo-players,
+wondering if they would be able to hold their own against a native team
+with whom a match had been arranged for the following week.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I think so," he said. "The Farabad men are strong, but our fellows
+are hard to beat. It won't be a walkover for either side."</p>
+
+<p>"Where will the match be played?" she asked, nervously afraid of letting
+the subject drop lest Lord Ronald should claim her attention.</p>
+
+<p>"Here," said Major Fletcher. "It was originally to have been at Farabad,
+but there was some difficulty about the ground. I was over there
+arranging matters only this evening. The whole place is being turned
+upside down for a native fair which is to be held in a few days, when
+the moon is full. You ought to see it. It is an interesting sight&mdash;one
+which I believe you would enjoy."</p>
+
+<p>"No doubt I should," she agreed. "But it is rather a long way, isn't
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not more than twelve miles." Fletcher's dark face kindled with a sudden
+idea. "I could drive you down some morning early if you cared for it."</p>
+
+<p>Beryl hesitated. It was not her custom to accept invitations of this
+sort, but for once she felt tempted. She longed to demonstrate her
+independence to Lord Ronald, whose suggestions regarding her inability
+to take care of herself had so sorely hurt her pride. Might she not
+permit herself this one small fling for his benefit? It would be so good
+for him to realise that she was no incompetent girl, but a woman of the
+world and thoroughly well versed in its ways. And at least he would be
+forced to recognise that his proposal had been little short of an
+absurdity. She wanted him to see that, as she wanted nothing else on
+earth.</p>
+
+<p>"You think it would bore you?" asked Fletcher.</p>
+
+<p>"No," she said, flushing slightly; "I think I should like it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well done!" he said, with quiet approval. "You are such a hermit, Mrs.
+Denvers, that it will be quite a novelty for us both."</p>
+
+<p>She met his eyes for an instant, assailed by a sudden memory of Lord
+Ronald's vague remarks concerning him. But they were very level, and
+revealed nothing whatever. She told herself indignantly that there was
+nothing to reveal. The man had simply made her a friendly offer, and she
+determined to accept it in a like spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"It was kind of you to think of it," she said. "I will come with much
+pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>On her other side she heard Lord Ronald's leisurely tones conversing
+with his neighbour, and wondered if aught of the project had reached
+him. She hoped it had, though the serenity of his demeanour made her
+doubtful. But in any case he would surely know sooner or later.</p>
+
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<p>Major Fletcher was well versed in the ways of natives, and as they drove
+in his high dog-cart to Farabad a few days later, he imparted to his
+companion a good deal of information regarding them of which, till then,
+she had been quite ignorant.</p>
+
+<p>He succeeded in arousing her interest, and the long drive down the
+hillside in the early morning gave her the keenest enjoyment. She had
+been feeling weary and depressed of late, a state of affairs which could
+not fairly be put down to the score of ill-health. She had tried hard to
+ignore it, but it had obtruded itself upon her notwithstanding, and she
+was glad of the diversion which this glimpse of native life afforded
+her. Of Lord Ronald Prior she had seen nothing for over a week. He had
+left Kundaghat on the day following the dinner-party, dropping
+unobtrusively, without farewell, out of her life. She had told herself a
+dozen times, and vehemently, that she was glad of it, but the
+humiliating fact remained that she missed him&mdash;missed him at every turn;
+when she rode, when she danced, when she went out in her rickshaw, and
+most of all in her drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>She had grown so accustomed to the sight of the thick-set, unromantic
+figure swinging lazily to and fro on her sorely tried music-stool,
+watching her with serene grey eyes that generally held a smile. She
+wished she had not been quite so severe. She had not meant to send him
+quite away. As a friend, his attitude of kindly admiration was all that
+could be desired. And he was so safe, too, so satisfactorily solid. She
+had always felt that she could say what she liked to him without being
+misunderstood. Well, he had gone, and as they finally alighted, and went
+forward on foot through the fair, she resolutely dismissed him from her
+mind.</p>
+
+<p>She made one or two purchases under Fletcher's guidance, which meant
+that she told him what she wanted and stood by while he bargained for
+her in Hindustani, an amusing business from her point of view.</p>
+
+<p>Undoubtedly she was beginning to enjoy herself, when he surprised her by
+turning from one of these unintelligible colloquies, and offering for
+her acceptance a beautifully wrought gold filigree bracelet.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him blankly, not without a vague feeling of dismay.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you have it?" he said. "Won't you permit me this small favour?"</p>
+
+<p>She felt the colour go out of her face. It was so unexpected, this from
+him&mdash;in a fashion, almost staggering. For some reason she had never
+regarded this man as a possible admirer. She felt as if the solid ground
+had suddenly quaked beneath her.</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather not," she said at last, avoiding his eyes instinctively.
+"Please don't think me ungracious. I know you mean to be kind."</p>
+
+<p>"If you really believe that," said Fletcher, smiling faintly, "I don't
+see your objection."</p>
+
+<p>The blood rushed back in a burning wave to her face. She, who prided
+herself upon being a woman of the world, blushed hotly, overwhelmingly,
+like any self-conscious girl.</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather not," she repeated, with her eyes upon the ground.</p>
+
+<p>But Fletcher was not to be turned lightly from his purpose.</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't distress you for the world, Mrs. Denvers," he said, "but
+don't you think you are a trifle unreasonable? No one expects a woman in
+your position to be a slave to convention. I would never have bought the
+thing had I dreamed that it could be an offence."</p>
+
+<p>There was a tinge of reproach in his voice, no more, but she felt
+inexplicably ashamed as she heard it. She looked up sharply, and the
+conviction that she was making herself ridiculous swept quickly upon
+her. She held out her hand to him, and mutely suffered him to slip the
+bangle on to her wrist.</p>
+
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<p>A curious rattling sound made them turn sharply the next moment, and
+even though it proved to be the warning signal of an old snake-charmer,
+Beryl welcomed the diversion. She looked at the man with a good deal of
+interest, notwithstanding her repulsion. He was wrapped in a long, very
+dirty, white <i>chuddah</i>, from which his face peered weirdly forth,
+wrinkled and old, almost supernaturally old, she thought to herself. It
+was very strangely adorned with red paint, which imparted to the eyes a
+ghastly pale appearance in the midst of the swarthy skin. A wiry grey
+beard covered the lower part of the face, and into this he was crooning
+a tuneless and wholly unintelligible song, while he squatted on the
+ground in front of a large, covered basket.</p>
+
+<p>"He has got a cobra there," Fletcher said, and took Beryl's arm quietly.</p>
+
+<p>She moved slightly, with a latent wish that he would take his hand away.
+But natives were beginning to crowd and press about them to see the
+show, and she realised that his action was dictated by necessity.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I take you away before we get hemmed in?" he asked her once.</p>
+
+<p>But she shook her head. A nameless fascination impelled her to remain.</p>
+
+<p>Even when the snake-charmer shot forth a dusky arm and clawed the basket
+open, she showed no sign of fear, though Fletcher's hold upon her
+tightened to a grip. They seemed to be the only Europeans in all that
+throng, but that fact also she had forgotten. She could think of nothing
+but the crouching native before her, and the basket in which some
+living, moving thing lay enshrouded.</p>
+
+<p>Closely she watched the active fingers, alert and sensitive, feeling
+over the dingy cloth they had exposed. Suddenly, with a movement too
+swift to be followed, they rent the covering away, and on the instant,
+rearing upwards, she beheld a huge snake.</p>
+
+<p>A thrill of horror shot through her, so keen that it stabbed every
+pulse, making her whole body tingle. But there was no escape for her
+then, nor did she seek it. She had a most unaccountable feeling that
+this display was for her alone, that in some way it appealed to her
+individually; and she was no longer so much as conscious of Fletcher's
+presence at her side.</p>
+
+<p>The charmer continued his crooning noise, and the great cobra swayed its
+inflated neck to and fro as though to some mysterious rhythm, the native
+with naked hand and arm seeming to direct it.</p>
+
+<p>"Loathsome!" murmured a voice into Beryl's ear, but she did not hear it.
+Her whole intelligence was riveted upon the movements of the serpent and
+its master. It was a hideous spectacle, but it occupied her undivided
+attention. She had no room for panic.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the man's crooning ceased, and on the instant the cobra ceased
+to sway. It seemed to gather itself together, was rigid for perhaps five
+seconds, and then&mdash;swift as a lightning flash&mdash;it struck.</p>
+
+<p>A sharp cry broke from Beryl, but she never knew that she uttered it.
+All she was aware of was the ghastly struggle that ensued in front of
+her, the fierce writhing of the snake, the convulsive movements of the
+old native, and, curiously distinct from everything else, an impression
+of some stringed instrument thrumming somewhere at the back of the
+crowd.</p>
+
+<p>It all ended as unexpectedly as it had begun. The great reptile became
+suddenly inert, a lifeless thing; the monotonous crooning was resumed,
+proceeding as it were out of the chaos of the struggle, and round his
+neck and about his body the snake-charmer wound his vanquished foe.</p>
+
+<p>The moment for <i>backsheesh</i> had arrived, and Beryl, coming suddenly out
+of her absorption, felt for her purse and awoke abruptly to the
+consciousness of a hand that gripped her arm.</p>
+
+<p>She glanced at Fletcher, who at once slackened his hold. "Don't you give
+the fellow anything," he said, with a touch of peremptoriness, "I will."</p>
+
+<p>She yielded, considering the matter too trivial for argument, and
+watched his rupee fall with a tinkle upon the tin plate which the
+snake-charmer extended at the length of his sinewy arm.</p>
+
+<p>Fletcher speedily made a way for her through the now shifting crowd; and
+after a little they found the <i>saice</i>, waiting with the mare under a
+tree. The animal was tormented by flies and restless. Certainly in this
+valley district it was very hot.</p>
+
+<p>"We will go back by the hill road," Fletcher said, as he handed her up.
+"It is rather longer, but I think it is worth it. This blaze is too much
+for you."</p>
+
+<p>They left the thronged highroad, and turned up a rutty track leading
+directly into the hills.</p>
+
+<p>Their way lay between great, glaring boulders of naked rock. Here and
+there tufts of grass grew beside the stony track, but they were brown
+and scorched, and served only to emphasise the barrenness of the land.</p>
+
+<p>For a while they drove in silence, mounting steadily the whole time.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Fletcher spoke. "We shall come to some shade directly. There is
+a belt of pine trees round the next curve."</p>
+
+<p>The words were hardly uttered when unexpectedly the mare shied, struck
+the ground violently with all four feet together, and bolted.</p>
+
+<p>Beryl heard an exclamation from the native groom, and half-turned to see
+him clinging to the back with a face of terror. She herself was more
+astonished than frightened. She gripped the rail instinctively, for the
+cart was jolting horribly as the mare, stretched out like a greyhound,
+fled at full gallop along the stony way.</p>
+
+<p>She saw Fletcher, with his feet against the board, dragging backwards
+with all his strength. He was quite white, but exceedingly collected,
+and she was instantly quite certain that he knew what he was about.</p>
+
+<p>There followed a few breathless moments of headlong galloping, during
+which they swayed perilously from side to side, and were many times on
+the verge of being overturned. Then, the ground rising steeply, the
+mare's wild pace became modified, developed into a spasmodic canter,
+became a difficult trot, finally slowed to a walk.</p>
+
+<p>Fletcher pulled up altogether, and turned to the silent woman beside
+him. "Mrs. Denvers, you are splendid!" he said simply.</p>
+
+<p>She laughed rather tremulously. The tension over, she was feeling very
+weak.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>saice</i> was already at the mare's head, and Fletcher let the reins
+go. He dismounted without another word and went round to her side. Still
+silent, he held up his hands to her and lifted her down as though she
+had been a child. He was smiling a little, but he was still very pale.</p>
+
+<p>As for Beryl, the moment her feet touched the ground she felt as if the
+whole world had turned to liquid and were swimming around her in a
+gigantic whirlpool of floating impressions.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, you are faint!" she heard him say.</p>
+
+<p>And she made a desperate and quite futile effort to assure him that she
+was nothing of the sort. But she knew that no more than a blur of sound
+came from her lips, and even while she strove to make herself
+intelligible the floating world became a dream, and darkness fell upon
+her.</p>
+
+
+<h3>V</h3>
+
+<p>Gradually, very gradually, the mists cleared from Beryl's brain, and she
+opened her eyes dreamily, and stared about her with a feeling that she
+had been asleep for years. She was lying propped upon carriage-cushions
+in the shade of an immense boulder, and as she discovered this fact,
+memory flashed swiftly back upon her. She had fainted, of course, in her
+foolish, weak, womanly fashion. But where was Major Fletcher? The heat
+was intense, so intense that breathing in that prone position seemed
+impossible. Gasping, she raised herself. Surely she was not absolutely
+alone in this arid wilderness!</p>
+
+<p>She was not. In an instant she realised this, and wonder rather than
+fear possessed her.</p>
+
+<p>There, squatting on his haunches, not ten paces from her, was the old
+snake-charmer. His basket was by his side; his <i>chuddah</i> drooped low
+over his face; he sat quite motionless, save for a certain palsied
+quivering, which she had observed before. He looked as if he had been in
+that place and attitude for many years.</p>
+
+<p>Beryl leaned her head upon her hand and closed her eyes. She was feeling
+spent and sick. He did not inspire her with horror, this old man. She
+was conscious of a faint sensation of disgust, that was all.</p>
+
+<p>A few seconds later she looked up again, wondering afresh whither her
+escort could have betaken himself. It seemed to her that the distance
+between herself and the old native had dwindled somewhat, but she did
+not bestow much attention upon him. She merely noted how fiercely the
+sun beat down upon his shrouded head, and wondered how he managed to
+endure it.</p>
+
+<p>The next time she opened her eyes, there were scarcely three yards
+between them. The instant her look fell upon him he began to speak in a
+thin, wiry voice of great humility.</p>
+
+<p>"Let the gracious lady pardon her servant," he said, in perfect English.
+"He would not harm a hair of her head."</p>
+
+<p>She raised herself to an upright position with an effort. Very curiously
+she did not feel in the least afraid. By an abrupt intuition, wholly
+inexplicable, she knew that the man had something to tell her.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>He cringed before her.</p>
+
+<p>"Let my gracious lady have patience. It is no boon that her servant
+would desire of her. He would only speak a word of warning in the
+<i>mem-sahib's</i> ear."</p>
+
+<p>Beryl had begun to give him her full attention. She had a feeling that
+she had seen the man somewhere before, but where and under what
+circumstances she could not recall. It was no moment for retrospection
+and the phantom eluded her.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" she said again, studying him with knitted brows.</p>
+
+<p>He bowed himself before her till he appeared to be no more than a bundle
+of dirty linen.</p>
+
+<p>"Let the gracious lady be warned by her servant," he said. "Fletcher
+<i>sahib</i> is a man of evil heart."</p>
+
+<p>Beryl's eyes widened. Assuredly this was the last thing she had expected
+to hear from such a source.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>He grovelled before her, his head almost in the dust.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Mem-sahib</i> he has gone for water, but he will soon return. And he will
+lie to the gracious lady, and tell her that the shaft of the carriage is
+broken so that he cannot take her back. But it is not so, most gracious.
+The shaft is cracked, indeed, but it is not beyond repair. Moreover, it
+was cracked by the <i>saice</i> at his master's bidding, while the
+<i>mem-sahib</i> was at the fair."</p>
+
+<p>He paused; but Beryl said nothing. She was listening to the whole story
+in speechless, unfeigned astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Also," her informant proceeded, "the <i>sahib's</i> mare was frightened, not
+by an accident, but by a trick. It was the <i>sahib's</i> will that she
+should run away. And he chose this road so that he might be far from
+habitation, well knowing that for every mile on the lower road there are
+two miles to be travelled on this. <i>Mem-sahib</i>, your servant has spoken,
+and he prays you to beware. There is danger in your path."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but," gasped Beryl, "how do you know all this? What makes you tell
+me? You can't know what you are saying!"</p>
+
+<p>She was thoroughly frightened by this time, and heat and faintness were
+alike forgotten. Incredible as was the story to which she had listened,
+there was about it a vividness that made it terrifying.</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't understand," she said helplessly, as the snake-charmer
+remained silent to her questions. "It is not possible! It could not be!"</p>
+
+<p>He lifted his head a little and, from the depths of the <i>chuddah</i>, she
+knew that piercing eyes surveyed her.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Mem-sahib</i>," he said, "your servant knew that this would happen, and
+he came here swiftly by a secret way to warn you. More, he knows that
+when Fletcher <i>sahib</i> returns, he will speak lightly of the accident, so
+that the <i>mem-sahib</i> will have no fear. 'A broken shaft is soon mended,'
+he will say. 'My servant has returned to Farabad&mdash;to a man he knows. We
+will rest under the trees but a furlong from this place till he comes
+back.' But, most gracious, he will not come back. There is no place at
+Farabad at this time of the fair where the work could be done. Moreover,
+the <i>saice</i> has his orders, and he will not seek one. He will go back to
+Kundaghat with the mare, but he will walk all the way. It is fifteen
+miles from here by the road. He will not reach it ere nightfall. He will
+not return till after the darkness falls, and then he will miss the
+road. He will not find Fletcher <i>sahib</i> and the gracious lady before the
+sunrise."</p>
+
+<p>Thus, in brief but telling sentences, the old native revealed to the
+white-faced woman before him the whole abominable plot. She listened to
+him in a growing agony of doubt. Could it be? Was it by any means
+possible that Fletcher, desiring to win her, but despairing of lessening
+the distance she maintained between them by any ordinary method, had
+devised this foul scheme of compromising her in the eyes of society in
+order to force her to accept him?</p>
+
+<p>Her cheeks burned furiously at the intolerable suspicion. It made her
+wholly forget that the man before her was an evil-looking native of whom
+she knew nothing whatever.</p>
+
+<p>With sudden impulse she turned and bestowed her full confidence upon
+him, the paint-smeared face and mumbling beard notwithstanding.</p>
+
+<p>"You must help me," she said imperiously. "You have done so much. You
+must do more. Tell me how I am to get back to Kundaghat."</p>
+
+<p>He made a deferential gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"The <i>mem-sahib</i> cannot depart before the major <i>sahib</i> returns," he
+said. "Let her therefore be faint once more, and let him minister to
+her. Let her hear his story, and judge if her servant has spoken truly.
+Then let the gracious lady go with him into the shade of the pine trees
+on the hill. When she is there let her discover that she has left behind
+her some treasure that she values&mdash;such as the golden bangle that is on
+the <i>mem-sahib's</i> wrist. Let her show distress, and Fletcher <i>sahib</i>
+shall come back to seek it. Then let her listen for the scream of a jay,
+and rise up and follow it. It will lead her by a safe and speedy way to
+Kundaghat. It will be easy for the <i>mem-sahib</i> to say afterwards that
+she began to wander and lost her way, till at last she met an aged man
+who guided her."</p>
+
+<p>Yes, quite easy. She assimilated this subtle suggestion, for the first
+time in her life welcoming craft. Of the extreme risk of the undertaking
+she was too agitated to think. To get away was her one all-possessing
+desire.</p>
+
+<p>While she thus desperately reviewed the situation, the snake-charmer
+began, with much grunting and mowing, to gather himself together for
+departure. She watched him, feeling that she would have gladly detained
+him had that been possible. Slowly, with palsied movements, he at length
+arose and took up his basket, doubled himself up before her with an
+almost ludicrous excess of deference, and finally hobbled away.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VI</h3>
+
+<p>There fell a step upon the parched earth, and with a start Beryl turned
+her head. She had seated herself again, but it was impossible to feign
+limpness with every pulse at the gallop. She looked up at Fletcher with
+a desperate smile.</p>
+
+<p>He wore a knotted handkerchief on his head to protect it from the sun,
+and in his hat, which he balanced with great care in both hands, he
+carried water.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to see you looking better," he said as he reached her. "I am
+afraid there isn't much more than a cupful left. I had to go nearly half
+a mile to get it, and it has been running out steadily all the way
+back."</p>
+
+<p>He knelt down before her, deep concern on his sunburnt face.
+Reluctantly, out of sheer gratitude, she dipped her handkerchief in the
+tepid drain, and bathed her face and hands.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so sorry to give you all this trouble," she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled with raised brows.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I ought to say that. You will never trust yourself to me again
+after this experience."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him with a guilty sense of duplicity.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;scarcely see how you were to blame for it," she said, rather
+faintly.</p>
+
+<p>He surveyed her for a moment in silence. Then, "I hardly know how to
+break it to you," he said. "I am afraid the matter is rather more
+serious than you think."</p>
+
+<p>She forced a smile. This delicate preparation was far more difficult to
+endure than the actual calamity to which it paved the way.</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't treat me like a coward," she said. "I know I was foolish
+enough to faint, but it was not so much from fright as from the heat."</p>
+
+<p>"You behaved splendidly," he returned, his dark eyes still intently
+watching her. "But this is not so much a case for nerve as for
+resignation. Mrs. Denvers, you will never forgive me, I know. That jump
+of the mare's damaged one of the shafts. The wonder is it didn't break
+altogether. I have had to send the <i>saice</i> back to Farabad to try and
+get it patched up, and there is very little chance of our getting back
+to Kundaghat for two or three hours to come."</p>
+
+<p>All the time that he was communicating this tragic news, Beryl's eyes
+were upon his face. She paid no heed to his scrutiny. Simply, with
+absolute steadiness, she returned it.</p>
+
+<p>And she detected nothing&mdash;nothing but the most earnest regret, the most
+courteous anxiety regarding her welfare. Could it all be a monstrous
+lie, she asked herself. And yet it was to the smallest detail the story
+she had been warned to expect.</p>
+
+<p>"But surely," she said, at last, "we cannot be so very far from
+Kundaghat?"</p>
+
+<p>"No great distance as the crow flies," said Fletcher, "but a good many
+miles by road. I am afraid there is nothing for it but to wait till the
+mischief is repaired. My only comfort is that you will feel the heat
+less in returning later in the day. There are some pine trees on the
+other side of the rise where you can rest. If I had only brought
+something to eat I should have less cause to blame myself. As it is, do
+you think you will be able to hold out?"</p>
+
+<p>She smiled at that.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I am not starving yet," she said, with more assurance; "but I do
+not see the use of sitting still under the circumstances. I am quite
+rested now. Let us walk back to Farabad, and we might start on foot
+along the lower road for Kundaghat, and tell your man to overtake us."</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding the resolution she infused into her voice, she made the
+proposal somewhat breathlessly, for she knew&mdash;in her heart she
+knew&mdash;that it would be instantly negatived.</p>
+
+<p>And so it was. His face expressed sharp surprise for a second,
+developing into prompt remonstrance.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Mrs. Denvers, in this heat! You have not the least idea of what
+it would mean. You simply have not the strength for such a venture."</p>
+
+<p>But Beryl was growing bolder in the face of emergency. She coolly set
+his assurance aside.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not quite agree with you," she said. "I am a better walker than
+you seem to imagine, and the walk into Farabad certainly would not kill
+me. We might be able to hire some conveyance there&mdash;a <i>tonga</i> or even a
+bullock-cart"&mdash;she laughed a little&mdash;"would be better than nothing."</p>
+
+<p>But Fletcher persistently shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry&mdash;horribly sorry, but it would be downright madness to
+attempt it."</p>
+
+<p>"Nevertheless," said Beryl very quietly, "I mean to do so."</p>
+
+<p>She saw his brows meet for a single instant, and she was conscious of a
+sick feeling at her heart that made her physically cold. Doubt was
+emerging into deadly conviction.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he leaned towards her, and spoke very earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Denvers, please believe that I regret this mischance every whit as
+much as you do. But, after all, it is only a mischance, and we may be
+thankful it was no worse. Shall we not treat it as such, and make the
+best of it?"</p>
+
+<p>He was looking her straight in the face as he said it, but, steady as
+was his gaze, she was not reassured. Quick as lightning came the
+thought&mdash;it was almost like an inner voice warning her&mdash;that he must not
+suspect the fact. Whatever happened she must veil her uneasiness, which
+she feared had been already far too obvious.</p>
+
+<p>Quietly she rose and expressed her willingness to go with him into the
+shade of the trees.</p>
+
+<p>They stood grouped on the side of a hill, a thick belt through which the
+scorching sun-rays slanted obliquely, turning the straight brown trunks
+to ruddiest gold. There was more air here than in the valley, and it was
+a relief to sit down in the shade and rest upon a fallen tree.</p>
+
+<p>Fletcher threw himself down upon the ground. "We can watch the road from
+here," he remarked. "We should see the dog-cart about a mile away."</p>
+
+<p>This was true. Barren, stony, and deserted, the road twisted in and out
+below them, visible from that elevation for a considerable distance.
+Beryl looked over it in silence. Her heart was beating in great
+suffocating throbs, while she strove to summon her resolution. Could she
+do this thing? Dared she? On the other hand, could she face the
+alternative risk? Her face burned fiercely yet again as she thought of
+it.</p>
+
+<p>Furtively she began to study the man stretched out upon the ground close
+to her, and a sudden, surging regret went through her. If only it had
+been Lord Ronald lounging there beside her, how utterly different would
+have been her attitude! Foolish and inept he might be&mdash;he was&mdash;but, as
+he himself had comfortably remarked, a man might be worse. She trusted
+him implicitly, every one trusted him. It was impossible to do
+otherwise.</p>
+
+<p>Had any one accused him of laying a trap for her, she would have treated
+the suggestion as too contemptible for notice. A sharp sigh escaped her.
+Why had he taken her so promptly at her word? He could never have
+seriously cared for her. Probably it was not in him to care.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not comfortable?" said Fletcher.</p>
+
+<p>She started at the sound of his voice, and with desperate impulse took
+action before her courage could fail her.</p>
+
+<p>"Major Fletcher, I&mdash;have lost the bangle you gave me. It slipped off
+down by that big rock when I was feeling ill. And I must have left it
+there. Should you very much mind fetching it for me?"</p>
+
+<p>She felt her face grow crimson as she made the request, and she could
+not look at him, knowing too well what he would think of her confusion.
+She felt, indeed, as if she could never look him in the face again.</p>
+
+<p>Fletcher sat quite still for a few seconds. Then, "But it's of no
+consequence, is it?" he said. "I will fetch it for you, of course, if
+you like, but I could give you fifty more like it. And in any case we
+can find it when Subdul comes with the dog-cart."</p>
+
+<p>He was reluctant to leave her. She saw it instantly, and tingled at the
+discovery. With a great effort she made her final attempt.</p>
+
+<p>"Please," she said, with downcast eyes, "I want it now."</p>
+
+<p>He was on his feet at once, looking down at her. "I will fetch it with
+the greatest pleasure," he said.</p>
+
+<p>And, not waiting for her thanks, he turned and left her.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VII</h3>
+
+<p>For many seconds after his departure Beryl sat quite rigid, watching his
+tall figure pass swiftly downwards through the trees. She did not stir
+till he had reached the road, then, with a sudden deep breath, she rose.</p>
+
+<p>At the same instant there sounded behind her, high up the hillside among
+the pine trees, the piercing scream of a jay.</p>
+
+<p>It startled her, for she had not been listening for it. All her thoughts
+had been concentrated upon the man below her. But this distant cry
+brought her back, and sharply she turned.</p>
+
+<p>Again came the cry, unmusical, insistent. She glanced nervously around,
+but met only the bright eyes of a squirrel on a branch above her.</p>
+
+<p>Again it came, arrogantly this time, almost imperiously. It seemed to
+warn her that there was no time for indecision. She felt as though some
+mysterious power were drawing her, and, gathering her strength, she
+began impetuously to mount the hill that stretched up behind her,
+covered with pine trees as far as she could see. It was slippery with
+pine needles, and she stumbled a good deal, but she faltered no longer
+in her purpose. She had done with indecision.</p>
+
+<p>She had climbed some distance before she heard again the guiding signal.
+It sounded away to her right, and she turned aside at once to follow it.
+In that instant, glancing downwards through the long, straight stems,
+she saw Fletcher far below, just entering the wood. Her heart leapt
+wildly at the sight. She almost stopped in her agitation. But the
+discordant bird-call sounded yet again, louder and more compelling than
+before, and she turned as a needle to a magnet and followed.</p>
+
+<p>The growth of pine trees became denser as she proceeded. It seemed to
+close her in and swallow her. But only once again did fear touch her,
+and that was when she heard Fletcher's voice, very far away but
+unmistakable, calling to her by name.</p>
+
+<p>With infinite relief, still following her unseen guide, at last she
+began to descend. The ground sloped sharply downwards, and creeping
+undergrowth began to make her progress difficult. She pressed on,
+however, and at length, hearing the tinkle of running water, realised
+that she was approaching one of the snow-fed mountain streams that went
+to swell the sacred waters that flowed by the temple at Farabad.</p>
+
+<p>She plunged downwards eagerly, for she was hot and thirsty, coming out
+at last upon the brink of a stream that gurgled over stones between
+great masses of undergrowth.</p>
+
+<p>"Will the <i>mem-sahib</i> deign to drink?" a deferential voice asked behind
+her.</p>
+
+<p>She looked round sharply to see the old snake-charmer, bent nearly
+double with age and humility, meekly offering her a small brass
+drinking-vessel.</p>
+
+<p>His offer surprised her, knowing the Hindu's horror of a stranger's
+polluting touch, but she accepted it without question. Stooping, she
+scooped up a cupful of the clean water and drank.</p>
+
+<p>The draught was cold as ice and refreshed her marvellously. She thanked
+him for it with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"And now?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>He bowed profoundly, and taking the cup he washed it very carefully in
+the stream. Then, deprecatingly, he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Mem-sahib</i>, it is here that we cross the water."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at the rushing stream with dismay. It was not very wide but
+she saw at once that it was beyond a leap. She fancied that the swirling
+water in the middle indicated depth.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean I must wade?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>He made a cringing gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"There is another way, most gracious."</p>
+
+<p>She gazed at him blankly.</p>
+
+<p>"Another way?"</p>
+
+<p>Again he bent himself.</p>
+
+<p>"If the <i>mem-sahib</i> will so far trust her servant."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but how?" she asked, somewhat breathlessly. "You don't mean&mdash;you
+can't mean&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Mem-sahib</i>," he said gently, "it will not be the first time that I
+have borne one of your race in my arms. I may seem old to you, most
+gracious, but I have yet the vigour of manhood. The water is swift but
+it is not deep. Let the <i>mem-sahib</i> watch her servant cross with the
+snake-basket, and she will see for herself that he speaks the truth. He
+will return for the <i>mem-sahib</i>, with her permission, and will bear her
+in safety to the farther bank, whence it is but an hour's journey on
+foot to Kundaghat."</p>
+
+<p>There was a coaxing touch about all this which was not lost upon Beryl.
+He was horribly ugly, she thought to herself, with that hideous red
+smear across his dusky face; but in spite of this she felt no fear.
+Unprepossessing he might be, but he was in no sense formidable.</p>
+
+<p>As she stood considering him he stooped and, lifting his basket, stepped
+with his sandalled feet into the stream. His long white garment trailed
+unheeded upon the water which rose above his knees as he proceeded.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching the further bank, he deposited his burden and at once turned
+back. Beryl was waiting for him. For some reason unknown even to
+herself, she had made up her mind to trust this old man.</p>
+
+<p>"If the most gracious will deign to rest her arm upon my shoulder," he
+suggested, in his meek quaver.</p>
+
+<p>And without further demur she complied.</p>
+
+<p>The moment he lifted her she knew that his strength was fully equal to
+the venture. His arms were like steel springs. He grunted a little to
+himself as he bore her across, but he neither paused nor faltered till
+he set her upon the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"The <i>mem-sahib</i> will soon see the road to Kundaghat," he observed then.
+"She has but three miles yet to go."</p>
+
+<p>"Only three miles to Kundaghat!" she ejaculated in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"Only three miles, most gracious." For the first time a hint of pride
+was mingled with the humility in his reedy voice. "The <i>mem-sahib</i> has
+travelled hither by a way that few know."</p>
+
+<p>Beryl was fairly amazed at the news. She had believed herself to be many
+miles away. She began to wonder if her friend in need would consider the
+few rupees she had left adequate reward for his pains. Since she had
+parted with Fletcher's gift, she reflected that she had nothing else of
+value to bestow.</p>
+
+<p>The way now lay uphill, and all undergrowth soon ceased. They came out
+at last through thinning pine trees upon the crest of the rise, and from
+here, a considerable distance below, Beryl discerned the road along
+which she had travelled with Fletcher that morning.</p>
+
+<p>White and glaring it stretched below her, till at last a grove of mango
+trees, which she remembered to be less than a mile from Kundaghat,
+closed about it, hiding it from view.</p>
+
+<p>"The <i>mem-sahib</i> will need her servant no more," said her guide, pausing
+slightly behind her while she studied the landscape at her feet with the
+road that wound through the valley.</p>
+
+<p>She took out her purse quickly, and shook its contents into her hand. He
+had been as good as his word, but she knew she had but little to offer
+him unless he would accompany her all the way to Kundaghat. She stopped
+to count the money before she turned&mdash;two rupees and eight annas. It did
+not seem a very adequate reward for the service he had rendered her.</p>
+
+<p>With this thought in her mind she slowly turned.</p>
+
+<p>"This is all I have with me&mdash;" she began to say, and broke off with the
+words half-uttered.</p>
+
+<p>She was addressing empty air! The snake-charmer had vanished!</p>
+
+<p>She stood staring blankly. She had not been aware of any movement. It
+was as if the earth had suddenly and silently gaped and swallowed him
+while her back was turned.</p>
+
+<p>In breathless astonishment she moved this way and that, searching for
+him among the trees that seemed to grow too sparsely to afford a screen.
+But she searched in vain. He had clean gone, and had taken his repulsive
+pet with him.</p>
+
+<p>Obviously, then, he had not done this thing for the sake of reward.</p>
+
+<p>A sense of uneasiness began to possess her, and she started at last upon
+her downward way, feeling as if the place were haunted.</p>
+
+<p>With relief she reached the road at length, and commenced the last stage
+of the return journey. The heat was terrific. She was intensely weary,
+and beginning to be footsore. At a turn in the road she paused a moment,
+looking back at the pine-clad hill from which she had come; and as she
+did so, distinct, though far away behind her, there floated through the
+midday silence the curious note of a jay. It sounded to her bewildered
+senses like a cracked, discordant laugh.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VIII</h3>
+
+<p>On the following afternoon Major Fletcher called, but he was not
+admitted. Beryl was receiving no one that day, and sent him an
+uncompromising message to that effect. He lingered to inquire after her
+health, and, on being told that she had overtired herself and was
+resting, expressed his polite regret and withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>After that, somewhat to Beryl's surprise, he came no more to the
+bungalow.</p>
+
+<p>She remained in seclusion for several days after her adventure, so that
+fully a week passed before they met.</p>
+
+<p>It was while out riding one morning with Mrs. Ellis that she first
+encountered him. The meeting was unexpected, and, conscious of a sudden
+rush of blood to her cheeks, she bestowed upon him her haughtiest bow.
+His grave acknowledgment thereof was wholly without effrontery, and he
+made no attempt to speak to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you quarrelled with the Major?" asked Nina, as they rode on.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not," Beryl answered, with a hint of impatience.</p>
+
+<p>But she knew that if she wished to appear at her ease she must not be
+too icy. She felt a very decided reluctance to take her friend into her
+confidence with regard to the Farabad episode. There were times when she
+wondered herself if she were altogether justified in condemning Major
+Fletcher unheard, in spite of the evidence against him. But she had no
+intention of giving him an opportunity to vindicate himself if she could
+possibly avoid doing so.</p>
+
+<p>In this, however, circumstances proved too strong for her. They were
+bound to meet sooner or later, and Fate ordained that when this should
+occur she should be more or less at his mercy.</p>
+
+<p>The occasion was an affair of some importance, being a reception at the
+palace of the native prince who dwelt at Farabad. It promised to be a
+function of supreme magnificence; it was, in fact, the chief event of
+the season, and the Anglo-Indian society of Kundaghat attended it in
+force.</p>
+
+<p>Beryl went with the Commissioner and his wife, but in the crowd of
+acquaintances that surrounded her almost from the moment of her arrival
+she very speedily drifted away from them. One after another claimed her
+attention, and almost before she knew it she found herself moving
+unattached through the throng.</p>
+
+<p>She was keenly interested in the brilliant scene about her. Flashing
+jewels and gorgeous costumes made a glittering wonderland, through which
+she moved as one beneath a spell. The magic of the East was everywhere;
+it filled the atmosphere as with a heavy fragrance.</p>
+
+<p>She had withdrawn a little from the stream of guests, and was standing
+slightly apart, watching the gorgeous spectacle in the splendidly
+lighted hall, when a tall figure, dressed in regimentals, came quietly
+up and stood beside her.</p>
+
+<p>With a start she recognised Fletcher. He bent towards her instantly, and
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I trust that you have now quite recovered from your fatigue, Mrs.
+Denvers."</p>
+
+<p>She controlled her flush before it had time to overwhelm her.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite, thank you," she replied, speaking stiffly because she could not
+at the moment bring herself to do otherwise.</p>
+
+<p>He stood beside her for a space in silence, and she wondered greatly
+what was passing in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>At length, "May I take you to have some supper?" he asked. "Or would you
+care to go outside? The gardens are worth a visit."</p>
+
+<p>Beryl hesitated momentarily. To have supper with him meant a prolonged
+<i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i>, whereas merely to go outside for a few minutes among a
+host of people could not involve her in any serious embarrassment. She
+could leave him at any moment if she desired. She was sure to see some
+of her acquaintances. Moreover, to seem to avoid him would make him
+think she was afraid of him, and her pride would not permit this
+possibility.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us go outside for a little, then," she said.</p>
+
+<p>He offered her his arm, and the next moment was leading her through a
+long, thickly carpeted passage to a flight of marble steps that led
+downwards into the palace-garden.</p>
+
+<p>He did not speak at all; and she, without glancing at him, was aware of
+a very decided constraint in his silence. She would not be disconcerted
+by it. She was determined to maintain a calm attitude; but her heart
+quickened a little in spite of her. She saw that he had chosen an exit
+that would lead them away from the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>Dumbly they descended the steps, Fletcher unhesitatingly drawing her
+forward. The garden was a marvel of many-coloured lights, intricate and
+bewildering as a maze. Its paths were all carpeted, and their feet made
+no sound. It was like a dream-world.</p>
+
+<p>Here and there were nooks and glades of deepest shadow. Through one of
+these, without a pause, Fletcher led her, emerging at length into a
+wonderful fairyland where all was blue&mdash;a twilight haunt, where
+countless tiny globes of light nestled like sapphires upon every shrub
+and tree, and a slender fountain rose and fell tinkling in a shallow
+basin of blue stone.</p>
+
+<p>A small arbour, domed and pillared like a temple, stood beside the
+fountain, and as they ascended its marble steps a strong scent of
+sandalwood fell like a haze of incense upon Beryl's senses.</p>
+
+<p>There was no light within the arbour, and on the threshold instinctively
+she stopped short. They were as much alone as if miles instead of yards
+separated them from the buzzing crowds about the palace.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly Fletcher spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Go in, won't you? It isn't really dark. There is probably a couch with
+rugs and cushions."</p>
+
+<p>There was, and she sat down upon it, sinking so low in downy luxuriance
+that she found herself resting not far from the floor. But, looking out
+through the marble latticework into the blue twilight, she was somewhat
+reassured. Though thick foliage obscured the stars, it was not really
+dark, as he had said.</p>
+
+<p>Fletcher seated himself upon the top step, almost touching her. He
+seemed in no hurry to speak.</p>
+
+<p>The only sound that broke the stillness was the babble of the fountain,
+and from far away the fitful strains of a band of stringed instruments.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly at length he turned his head, just as his silence was becoming
+too oppressive to be borne.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Denvers," he said, his voice very deliberate and even, "I want to
+know what happened that day at Farabad to make you decide that I was not
+a fit escort for you."</p>
+
+<p>It had come, then. He meant to have a reckoning with her. A sharp tingle
+of dismay went through her as she realised it. She made a quick effort
+to avert his suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>"I wandered, and lost my way," she said. "And then I met an old native,
+who showed me a short cut. I ought, perhaps, to have written and
+explained."</p>
+
+<p>"That was not all that happened," Fletcher responded gravely. "Of
+course, you can refuse to tell me any more. I am absolutely at your
+mercy. But I do not think you will refuse. It isn't treating me quite
+fairly, is it, to keep me in the dark?"</p>
+
+<p>She saw at once that to fence with him further was out of the question.
+Quite plainly he meant to bring her to book. But she felt painfully
+unequal to the ordeal before her. She was conscious of an almost
+physical sense of shrinking.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, as he waited, she nerved herself at length to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you think that something happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is fairly obvious, is it not?" he returned quietly. "I could not
+very easily think otherwise. If you will allow me to say so, your device
+was not quite subtle enough to pass muster. Even had you dropped that
+bangle by inadvertence&mdash;which you did not&mdash;you would not, in the
+ordinary course of things, have sent me off post haste to recover it."</p>
+
+<p>"No?" she questioned, with a faint attempt to laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he rejoined, and this time she heard a note of anger, deep and
+unmistakable, in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>She drew herself together as it reached her. It was to be a battle,
+then, and instinctively she knew that she would need all her strength.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she said finally, affecting an assurance she was far from
+feeling, "I have no objection to your knowing what happened since you
+have asked. In fact, perhaps,&mdash;as you suggest,&mdash;it is scarcely fair that
+you should not know."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," he responded, with a hint of irony.</p>
+
+<p>But she found it difficult to begin, and she could not hide it from him,
+for he was closely watching her.</p>
+
+<p>He softened a little as he perceived this.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray don't be agitated," he said. "I do not for a moment question that
+your reason for what you did was a good one. I am only asking you to
+tell me what it was."</p>
+
+<p>"I know," she answered. "But it will make you angry, and that is why I
+hesitate."</p>
+
+<p>He leaned towards her slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Can it matter to you whether I am angry or not?"</p>
+
+<p>She shivered a little.</p>
+
+<p>"I never offend any one if I can help it. I think it is a mistake.
+However, you have asked for it. What happened was this. It was when you
+left me to get some water. An old man, a native, came and spoke to me.
+Perhaps I was foolish to listen, but I could scarcely have done
+otherwise. And he told me&mdash;he told me that the accident to the dog-cart
+was not&mdash;not&mdash;" She paused, searching for a word.</p>
+
+<p>"Genuine," suggested Fletcher very quietly.</p>
+
+<p>She accepted the word. The narration was making her very nervous.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, genuine. He told me that the <i>saice</i> had cracked the shaft
+beforehand, that there was no possibility of getting it repaired at
+Farabad, that he would have to return to Kundaghat and might not,
+probably would not, come back for us before the following morning."</p>
+
+<p>Haltingly, rather breathlessly, the story came from her lips. It sounded
+monstrous as she uttered it. She could not look at Fletcher, but she
+knew that he was angry; something in the intense stillness of his
+attitude told her this.</p>
+
+<p>"Please go on," he said, as she paused. "You undertook to tell me the
+whole truth, remember."</p>
+
+<p>With difficulty she continued.</p>
+
+<p>"He told me that the mare was frightened by a trick, that you chose the
+hill-road because it was lonely and difficult. He told me exactly what
+you would say when you came back. And&mdash;and you said it."</p>
+
+<p>"And that decided you to play a trick upon me and escape?" questioned
+Fletcher. "Your friend's suggestion, I presume?"</p>
+
+<p>His words fell with cold precision; they sounded as if they came through
+his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>She assented almost inaudibly. He made her feel contemptible.</p>
+
+<p>"And afterwards?" he asked relentlessly.</p>
+
+<p>She made a final effort; there was that in his manner that frightened
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Afterwards, he gave a signal&mdash;it was the cry of a jay&mdash;for me to
+follow. And he led me over the hill to a stream where he waited for me.
+We crossed it together, and very soon after he pointed out the
+valley-road below us, and left me."</p>
+
+<p>"You rewarded him?" demanded Fletcher swiftly.</p>
+
+<p>"No; I&mdash;I was prepared to do so, but he disappeared."</p>
+
+<p>"What was he like?"</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Denvers!" His tone was peremptory.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not feel bound to tell you that," she said, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a right to know it," he responded firmly.</p>
+
+<p>And after a moment she gave in. The man was probably far away by this
+time. She knew that the fair was over.</p>
+
+<p>"It was&mdash;the old snake-charmer."</p>
+
+<p>"The man we saw at Farabad?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>Fletcher received the information in silence, and several seconds
+dragged away while he digested it. She even began to wonder if he meant
+to say anything further, almost expecting him to get up and stalk away,
+too furious for speech.</p>
+
+<p>But at length, very unexpectedly and very quietly, he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Would it be of any use for me to protest my innocence?"</p>
+
+<p>She did not know how to answer him.</p>
+
+<p>He proceeded with scarcely a pause:</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me that my guilt has been taken for granted in such a
+fashion that any attempt on my part to clear myself would be so much
+wasted effort. It simply remains for you to pass sentence."</p>
+
+<p>She lifted her head for the first time, startled out of all composure.
+His cool treatment of the matter was more disconcerting than any
+vehement protestations. It was almost as though he acknowledged the
+offence and swept it aside with the same breath as of no account. Yet it
+was incredible, this view of the case. There must be some explanation.
+He would never dare to insult her thus.</p>
+
+<p>Impulsively she rose, inaction becoming unendurable. He stood up
+instantly, and they faced one another in the weird blue twilight.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I have misunderstood you!" she said breathlessly, and there
+stopped dead, for something&mdash;something in his face arrested her.</p>
+
+<p>The words froze upon her lips. She drew back with a swift, instinctive
+movement. In one flashing second of revelation unmistakable she knew
+that she had done him no injustice. Her eyes had met his, and had sunk
+dismayed before the fierce passion that had flamed back at her.</p>
+
+<p>In the pause that followed she heard her own heartbeats, quick and hard,
+like the flying feet of a hunted animal. Then&mdash;for she was a woman, and
+instinct guided her&mdash;she covered up her sudden fear, and faced him with
+stately courage.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us go back," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"You have nothing to say to me?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head in silence, and made as if to depart.</p>
+
+<p>But he stood before her, hemming her in. He did not appear to notice her
+gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"But I have something to say to you!" he said. And in his voice, for all
+its quietness, was a note that made her tremble. "Something to which I
+claim it as my right that you should listen."</p>
+
+<p>She faced him proudly, though she was white to the lips.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you had refused to plead your innocence," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I have," he returned. "I do. But yet&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then I will not hear another word," she broke in. "Let me pass!"</p>
+
+<p>She was splendid as she stood there confronting him, perhaps more
+splendid than she had ever been before. She had reached the ripe beauty
+of her womanhood. She would never be more magnificent than she was at
+that moment. The magic of her went to the man's head like wine. Till
+that instant he had to a great extent controlled himself, but that was
+the turning-point. She dazzled him, she intoxicated him, she maddened
+him.</p>
+
+<p>The savagery in him flared into a red blaze of passion. Without another
+word he caught her suddenly to him, and before she could begin to
+realise his intention he had kissed her fiercely upon the lips.</p>
+
+
+<h3>IX</h3>
+
+<p>The moments that followed were like a ghastly nightmare to Beryl, for,
+struggle as she might, she knew herself to be helpless. Having once
+passed the bounds of civilisation, he gave full rein to his savagery.
+And again and yet again, holding her crushed to him, he kissed her
+shrinking face. He was as a man possessed, and once he laughed&mdash;a
+devilish laugh&mdash;at the weakness of her resistance.</p>
+
+<p>And then quite suddenly she felt his grip relax. He let her go abruptly,
+so that she tottered and almost fell, only saving herself by one of the
+pillars of the arbour.</p>
+
+<p>A great surging was in her brain, a surging that nearly deafened her.
+She was too spent, too near to swooning, to realise what it was that had
+wrought her deliverance. She could only cling gasping and quivering to
+her support while the tumult within her gradually subsided.</p>
+
+<p>It was several seconds later that she began to be aware of something
+happening, of some commotion very near to her, of trampling to and fro,
+and now and again of a voice that cursed. These things quickly goaded
+her to a fuller consciousness. Exhausted though she was, she managed to
+collect her senses and look down upon the spectacle below her.</p>
+
+<p>There, on the edge of the fountain, two figures swayed and fought. One
+of them she saw at a glance was Fletcher. She had a glimpse of his face
+in the uncanny gloom, and it was set and devilish, bestial in its
+cruelty. The other&mdash;the other&mdash;she stared and gasped and stared
+again&mdash;the other, beyond all possibility of doubt, was the ancient
+snake-charmer of Farabad.</p>
+
+<p>Yet it was he who cursed&mdash;and cursed in excellent English&mdash;with a
+fluency that none but English lips could possibly have achieved. And the
+reason for his eloquence was not far to seek. For he was being thrashed,
+thrashed scientifically, mercilessly, and absolutely thoroughly&mdash;by the
+man whom he had dared to thwart.</p>
+
+<p>He was draped as before in his long native garment&mdash;and this, though it
+hung in tatters, hampered his movements, and must have placed him at a
+hopeless disadvantage even had he not been completely outmatched in the
+first place.</p>
+
+<p>Standing on the steps above them, Beryl took in the whole situation, and
+in a trice her own weakness was a thing of the past. Amazed,
+incredulous, bewildered as she was, the urgent need for action drove all
+questioning from her mind. There was no time for that. With a cry, she
+sprang downwards.</p>
+
+<p>And in that instant Fletcher delivered a smashing blow with the whole of
+his strength, and struck his opponent down.</p>
+
+<p>He fell with a thud, striking his head against the marble of the
+fountain, and to Beryl's horror he did not rise again. He simply lay as
+he had fallen, with arms flung wide and face upturned, motionless,
+inanimate as a thing of stone.</p>
+
+<p>In an agony she dropped upon her knees beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"You brute!" she cried to Fletcher. "Oh, you brute!"</p>
+
+<p>She heard him laugh in answer, a fierce and cruel laugh, but she paid no
+further heed to him. She was trying to raise the fallen man, dabbing the
+blood that ran from a cut on his temple, lifting his head to lie in the
+hollow of her arm. Her incredulity had wholly passed. She knew him now
+beyond all question. He would never manage to deceive her again.</p>
+
+<p>"Speak to me! Oh, do speak to me!" she entreated. "Ronald, open your
+eyes! Please open your eyes!"</p>
+
+<p>"He is only stunned." It was Fletcher's voice above her. "Leave him
+alone. He will soon come to his senses. Serves him right for acting the
+clown in this get-up."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up sharply at that and a perfect tempest of indignation took
+possession of her, banishing all fear.</p>
+
+<p>"What he did," she said, in a voice that shook uncontrollably, "was for
+my sake alone, that he might be able to protect me from cads and
+blackguards. I refuse to leave him like this, but the sooner you go, the
+better. I will never&mdash;never as long as I live&mdash;speak to you again!"</p>
+
+<p>Her blazing eyes, and the positive fury of her voice, must have carried
+conviction to the most obtuse, and this Fletcher certainly was not. He
+stood a moment, looking down at her with an insolence that might have
+frightened her a little earlier, but which now she met with a new
+strength that he felt himself powerless to dominate. She was not
+thinking of herself at all just then, and perhaps that was the secret of
+her ascendancy. His own brute force crumbled to nothing before it, and
+he knew that he was beaten.</p>
+
+<p>Without a word he bowed to her, smiling ironically, and turned upon his
+heel.</p>
+
+<p>She drew a great breath of relief as she saw him go. She felt as though
+a horrible oppression had passed out of the atmosphere. That fairy haunt
+with its bubbling fountain and sapphire lamps was no longer an evil
+place.</p>
+
+<p>She bent again over her senseless companion.</p>
+
+<p>"Ronald!" she whispered. "My dear, my dear, can't you hear me? Oh, if
+only you would open your eyes!"</p>
+
+<p>She soaked her handkerchief in the water and held it to the wound upon
+his forehead. Even as she did it, she felt him stir, and the next moment
+his eyes were open, gazing straight up into her own.</p>
+
+<p>"Damn the brute!" said Lord Ronald faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"You are better?" she whispered thankfully.</p>
+
+<p>His hand came upwards gropingly, and took the soaked handkerchief from
+her. He dabbed his face with it, and slowly, with her assistance, sat
+up.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"He has gone," she told him. "I&mdash;ordered him to go."</p>
+
+<p>"Better late than never," said Lord Ronald thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>He leaned upon the edge of the fountain, still mopping the blood from
+his face, till, suddenly feeling his beard, he stripped it off with a
+gesture of impatience.</p>
+
+<p>"Afraid I must have given you a nasty shock," he said. "I didn't expect
+to be mauled like this."</p>
+
+<p>"Please&mdash;please don't apologise," she begged him, with a sound that was
+meant for a laugh, but was in effect more like a sob.</p>
+
+<p>He turned towards her in his slow way.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not apologising. Only&mdash;you know&mdash;I've taken something of a liberty,
+though, on my honour, it was well meant. If you can overlook that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never overlook it," she said tremulously.</p>
+
+<p>He put the <i>chuddah</i> back from his head and regarded her gravely. His
+face was swollen and discoloured, but this fact did not in the smallest
+degree lessen the quaint self-assurance of his demeanour.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but you mustn't cry about it," he said gently. "And you mustn't
+blame yourself either. I knew the fellow, remember; you didn't."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know you, either," she said, sitting down on the edge of the
+fountain. "I&mdash;I've been a perfect fool!"</p>
+
+<p>Silence followed this statement. She did not know quite whether she
+expected Lord Ronald to agree with her or to protest against the
+severity of her self-arraignment, but she found his silence peculiarly
+hard to bear.</p>
+
+<p>She had almost begun to resent it, when suddenly, very softly, he spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"It's never too late to mend, is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," she answered. "I almost think it is&mdash;at my age."</p>
+
+<p>He dipped her handkerchief again in the fountain, and dabbed his face
+afresh. Then:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you think you might try?" he suggested, in his speculative drawl.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head rather drearily.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I shall have to resign myself, and get a companion. I shall
+hate it, and so will the companion, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Think so?" said Lord Ronald. He laid his hand quietly on her knee.
+"Mrs. Denvers," he said, "I am afraid you thought me awfully impertinent
+when I suggested your marrying me the other day. It wasn't very
+ingenious of me, I admit. But what can you expect from a nonentity? Not
+brains, surely! I am not going to repeat the blunder. I know very well
+that I am no bigger than a peppercorn in your estimation, and we will
+leave it at that. But, you know, you are too young, you really are too
+young, to live alone. Now listen a moment. You trust me. You said so.
+You'll stick to that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," she said, wondering greatly what was coming.</p>
+
+<p>"Then will you," he proceeded very quietly, "have me for a watch-dog
+until you marry again? I could make you an excellent Sikh servant, and I
+could go with you practically everywhere. Don't begin to laugh at the
+suggestion until you have thoroughly considered it. It could be done in
+such a way that no one would suspect. It matters nothing to any one how
+I pass my time, and I may as well do something useful for once. I know
+at first sight it seems impossible, but it is nothing of the sort in
+reality. It isn't the first time I have faked as a native. I am Indian
+born, and I have spent the greater part of my life knocking about the
+Empire. The snake-taming business I picked up from an old bearer of
+mine&mdash;a very old man he's now and in the trade himself. I got him to
+lend me his most docile cobra. The thing was harmless, of course. But
+all this is beside the point. The point is, will you put up with me as a
+retainer, no more, until you find some one more worthy of the high
+honour of guarding you? I shall never, believe me, take advantage of
+your kindness. And on the day you marry again I shall resign my post."</p>
+
+<p>She had listened to the amazing suggestion in unbroken silence, and even
+when he paused she did not at once speak. Her head was bent, almost as
+though she did not wish him to see her face&mdash;he, the peppercorn, the
+nonentity, whose opinion mattered so little!</p>
+
+<p>Yet as he waited, still with that quiet hand upon her as though to
+assure her of his solidity, his trustworthiness, she spoke at last, in a
+voice so small that it sounded almost humble.</p>
+
+<p>"But, Lord Ronald, I&mdash;I may never marry again. My late marriage was&mdash;was
+such a grievous mistake. I was so young at the time, and&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't tell me," he said gently.</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but&mdash;if I never marry again?" she persisted.</p>
+
+<p>"Then&mdash;unless, of course, you dismiss me&mdash;I shall be with you for all
+time," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She made a slight, involuntary movement, and he took his hand away.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you think it over before you decide?" he said. "I will come to
+you, as soon as I am presentable, for your answer. For the present,
+would you not be wise to go back to your friends? I am too disreputable
+to escort you, but I will watch you to the palace steps."</p>
+
+<p>He got to his feet as he spoke. He was still absently mopping his face
+with the scrap of lace he had taken from her.</p>
+
+<p>Beryl stood up also. She wanted to be gracious to him, but she was
+unaccountably shy. No words would come.</p>
+
+<p>He waited courteously.</p>
+
+<p>At last:</p>
+
+<p>"Lord Ronald," she said with difficulty, "I know you are in earnest. But
+do you&mdash;do you really wish to be taken at your word?"</p>
+
+<p>He raised his eyebrows as if the question slightly surprised him.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Still she stood hesitating.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you would tell me why," she said, almost under her breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" he repeated uncomprehendingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, why you wish to safeguard me in this fashion," she explained, in
+evident embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that!" he said slowly. "I suppose it is because I happen to care
+for your safety."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" she murmured, still pausing.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her with his straight grey eyes that were so perfectly true
+and kind.</p>
+
+<p>"That's all," he said, and smiled upon her reassuringly.</p>
+
+<p>Beryl uttered a sharp sigh and let the matter drop. Nonentity though he
+might be, she would have given much for a glimpse of his inner soul just
+then.</p>
+
+
+<h3>X</h3>
+
+<p>For three days after the reception at Farabad Beryl Denvers returned to
+her seclusion, and during those three days she devoted the whole of her
+attention to the plan that Lord Ronald Prior had laid before her. It
+worried her a good deal. There were so many obstacles to its
+satisfactory fulfilment. She wished he had not been so pleasantly vague
+regarding his own feelings in the matter. Of course, it was a
+feather-brained scheme from start to finish, and yet in a fashion it
+attracted her. He was so splendidly safe, so absolutely reliable; she
+needed just such a protector. And yet&mdash;and yet&mdash;there were so many
+obstacles.</p>
+
+<p>On the fourth day Lord Ronald's card was brought to her. He did not call
+at the conventional hour, and the reason for this was not hard to
+fathom. He had come for her final decision, and he desired to see her
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>She did not know how to meet him or what to say, but it was useless to
+shirk the interview. She entered her drawing-room with decidedly
+heightened colour, even while telling herself that it was absurd to feel
+any embarrassment in his presence.</p>
+
+<p>He was waiting for her on his favourite perch, the music-stool, swinging
+idly to and fro, with his customary serenity of demeanour. He moved to
+meet her with a quiet smile of welcome. A piece of strapping-plaster
+across his left temple was all that remained of his recent
+disfigurement.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope my visit is not premature," he remarked as he shook hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no!" she answered somewhat nervously. "I expected you. Please sit
+down."</p>
+
+<p>He subsided again upon the music-stool, and there followed a silence
+which she found peculiarly disconcerting.</p>
+
+<p>"You have been thinking over my suggestion?" he drawled at length.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said. "Yes, I have." She paused a moment, then, "I&mdash;am afraid
+it wouldn't answer," she said, with an effort, "though I am very
+grateful to you for thinking of it. You see, there are so many
+obstacles."</p>
+
+<p>"But not insurmountable, any of them," smiled Lord Ronald.</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid so," she said.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her.</p>
+
+<p>"May I not hear what they are?"</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"For one thing, you know," she said, "one pays one's servants."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, but you can pay me," he said simply. "I shall not ask very high
+wages. I am easily satisfied. I shouldn't call that an obstacle."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a little.</p>
+
+<p>"But that isn't all. There is the danger of being found out. It&mdash;it
+would make it rather awkward, wouldn't it? People would talk."</p>
+
+<p>"No one ever talks scandal of me," said Lord Ronald comfortably. "I am
+considered eccentric, but quite incapable of anything serious. I don't
+think you need be afraid. There really isn't the smallest danger of my
+being discovered, and even if I were, I could tell the truth, you know.
+People always believe what I say."</p>
+
+<p>She smiled involuntarily at his simplicity, but she shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"It really wouldn't do," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"What! More obstacles?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, one&mdash;the greatest of all, in my opinion." She got up and moved
+across the room, he pivoting slowly round to watch her.</p>
+
+<p>She came to a stand by her writing-table, and began to turn over a
+packet of letters that lay there. She did it mechanically, with hands
+that shook a little. Her face was turned away from him.</p>
+
+<p>He waited for a few seconds; then, as she still remained silent, he
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"What is this last obstacle, Mrs. Denvers?"</p>
+
+<p>She answered him with her head bent, her fingers still fluttering the
+papers before her.</p>
+
+<p>"You," she said, in a low voice. "You yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Me!" said Lord Ronald, in evident astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>She nodded without speaking.</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;I'm sorry," he said pathetically, "I'm afraid I don't quite follow
+you. I am not famed for my wits, as you know."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed at that, unexpectedly and quite involuntarily; and though
+she was instantly serious again the laugh served to clear away some of
+her embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but you are absurd," she said, "to talk like that. No dull-witted
+person could ever have done what you have been doing lately. Major
+Fletcher himself told me that day we went to Farabad that it needed
+sharp wits to pose as a native among natives. He also said&mdash;" She paused
+suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" said Lord Ronald.</p>
+
+<p>She glanced round at him momentarily.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know why I should repeat it. It is quite beside the point. He
+also said that it entailed a risk that no one would care to take
+unless&mdash;unless there was something substantial to be gained by it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, but there was," said Lord Ronald vaguely.</p>
+
+<p>"Meaning my safety?" she questioned.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She became silent; but she fidgeted no longer with her papers. She was
+making up her mind to take a bold step.</p>
+
+<p>"Lord Ronald," she said at last, "I am going to ask you a very direct&mdash;a
+horribly direct&mdash;question. Will you answer me quite directly too?
+And&mdash;and&mdash;tell me the truth, even if it sounds rather brutal?"</p>
+
+<p>There was an unmistakable appeal in her voice. With an effort she
+wheeled in her chair, and fully faced him. But she was so plainly
+distressed that even he could not fail to notice it.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" he said kindly. "I will tell you the truth, of course. I
+always do."</p>
+
+<p>"You promise?" she said, very earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly I promise," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Then&mdash;you must forgive my asking, but I must know, and I can't find out
+in any other way&mdash;Lord Ronald, are you&mdash;are you in love with me?"</p>
+
+<p>She saw the grey eyes widen in astonishment, and was conscious of a
+moment of overwhelming embarrassment; and then, slow and emphatic, his
+answer came, banishing all misgiving.</p>
+
+<p>"But of course I am," he said. "I thought you knew."</p>
+
+<p>She summoned to her aid an indignation she was far from feeling; she had
+to cloak her confusion somehow. "How could I possibly know?" she said.
+"You never told me."</p>
+
+<p>"I asked you to marry me," he protested. "I thought you would take the
+other thing for granted."</p>
+
+<p>She stood up abruptly, turning from him. It was impossible to keep up
+her indignation. It simply declined to carry her through.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you are a perfect idiot!" she said shakily. And on the words she
+tried to laugh, but only succeeded in partially smothering a sob.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I say!" said Lord Ronald. He got up awkwardly, and stood behind
+her. "Please don't take it to heart," he urged. "I shouldn't have told
+you, only&mdash;you know&mdash;you asked. And it wouldn't make any difference, on
+my honour it wouldn't. Won't you take my word for it, and give me a
+trial?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" he persisted. "Don't you think you are rather hard on me? I
+shall never take a single inch more than you care to allow."</p>
+
+<p>She turned upon him suddenly. Her cheeks were burning and her eyes were
+wet, but she no longer cared about his seeing these details.</p>
+
+<p>"What did you mean?" she demanded unexpectedly, "by saying to me that
+those fight hardest who fight in vain?"</p>
+
+<p>He was not in the least disconcerted.</p>
+
+<p>"I meant that though you might send me about my business you would not
+quite manage to shake me off altogether."</p>
+
+<p>"Meaning that you would refuse to go?" she asked, with a quiver that
+might have been anger in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Meaning," he responded quietly, "that though you might deny me
+yourself, it might not be in your power to deny me the pleasure of
+serving you."</p>
+
+<p>"And is it not in my power?" she asked swiftly.</p>
+
+<p>He was looking at her very intently.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said in his most deliberate drawl. "I don't think it is."</p>
+
+<p>"But it is," she asserted, meeting his look with blazing eyes. "You
+cannot possibly enter my service without my consent. And&mdash;and&mdash;I am not
+going to consent to that mad scheme of yours."</p>
+
+<p>"No?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"No," she repeated with emphasis. "You yourself are the obstacle, as I
+said before. If&mdash;if you had not been in love with me, I might have
+considered it. But&mdash;now&mdash;it is out of the question. Moreover," her eyes
+shot suddenly downwards, as though to hide their fire, "I shall not want
+that sort of protector now."</p>
+
+<p>"No?" he said again, very softly this time. He was standing straight
+before her, still closely watching her with that in his eyes that he had
+never permitted there before.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" she repeated once more, and again brokenly she laughed; then
+suddenly raised her eyes to his, and gave him both her hands
+impetuously, confidingly, yet with a certain shyness notwithstanding.
+"I&mdash;I am going to marry again after all," she said, "if&mdash;if you will
+have me."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," said Lord Ronald, very tenderly, "I always meant to!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Her_Hero" id="Her_Hero"></a>Her Hero</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+<h3>THE AMERICAN COUSIN</h3>
+
+
+<p>"My dear child, it's absurd to be romantic over such a serious matter as
+marriage&mdash;the greatest mistake, I assure you. Nothing could be more
+suitable than an alliance with this very eligible young man. He plainly
+thinks so himself. If you are so unreasonable as to throw away this
+magnificent chance, I shall really feel inclined to give you up in
+despair."</p>
+
+<p>The soft, drawling accents fell with a gentle sigh through the perfumed
+silence of the speaker's boudoir. She was an elderly woman, beautiful,
+with that delicate, china-like beauty that never fades from youth to
+age. Not even Lady Raffold's enemies had ever disputed the fact of her
+beauty, not even her stepdaughter, firmly though she despised her.</p>
+
+<p>She sat behind the tea-table, this stepdaughter, dark and inscrutable, a
+grave, unresponsive listener. Her grey eyes never varied as Lady
+Raffold's protest came lispingly through the quiet room. She might have
+been turning over some altogether irrelevant problem at the back of her
+mind. It was this girl's way to hide herself behind a shield of apparent
+preoccupation when anything jarred upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"I need scarcely tell you what it would mean to your father," went on
+the soft voice. "Ever since poor Mortimer's death it has fretted him
+terribly to think that the estates must pass out of the direct line.
+Indeed, he hardly feels that the present heir belongs to the family at
+all. The American branch has always seemed so remote. But now that the
+young man is actually coming over to see his inheritance, it does seem
+such a Heaven-sent chance for you. You know, dear, it's your sixth
+season. You really ought to think seriously of getting settled. I am
+sure it would be a great weight off my mind to see you suitably married.
+And this young Cochrane is sure to take a reasonable view of the matter.
+Americans are so admirably practical. And, of course, if your father
+could leave all his money to the estates, as this marriage would enable
+him to do, it would be a very excellent arrangement for all concerned."</p>
+
+<p>The girl at the tea-table made a slight&mdash;a very slight&mdash;movement that
+scarcely amounted to a gesture of impatience. The gentle drone of her
+stepmother's voice was becoming monotonous. But she said nothing
+whatever, and her expression did not change.</p>
+
+<p>A faintly fretful note crept into Lady Raffold's tone when she spoke
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"You're so unreasonable, Priscilla. I really haven't a notion what you
+actually want. You might have been a duchess by this time, as all the
+world knows, if you had only been reasonable. How is it&mdash;why is it&mdash;that
+you are so hard to please?"</p>
+
+<p>Lady Priscilla raised her eyelids momentarily.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you would understand, Charlotte, if I were to tell you,"
+she said, in a voice of such deep music that it seemed incapable of
+bitterness.</p>
+
+<p>"Some ridiculous sentimentality, no doubt," said Lady Raffold.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure you would call it so."</p>
+
+<p>A faint flush rose in the girl's dark face. She looked at her stepmother
+no longer, but began very quietly and steadily to make the tea.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Raffold waited a few seconds for her confidence, but she waited in
+vain. Lady Priscilla had retired completely behind her shield, and it
+was quite obvious that she had no intention of exposing herself any
+further to stray shots.</p>
+
+<p>Her stepmother was exasperated, but she found it difficult to say
+anything more upon the subject in face of this impenetrability. She
+could only solace herself with the reflection that the American cousin,
+who had become heir to the earldom and estates of Raffold, would almost
+certainly take a more common-sense view of the matter, and, if that were
+so, a little pressure from the girl's father, whom she idolised, would
+probably be sufficient to settle it according to her desires.</p>
+
+<p>It was so plainly Priscilla's duty to marry the young man. The whole
+thing seemed to be planned and cut out by Providence. And it was but
+natural that Ralph Cochrane should see it in the same light. For it was
+understood that he was not rich, and it would be greatly to his interest
+to marry Earl Raffold's only surviving child.</p>
+
+<p>So Lady Raffold reasoned to herself as Priscilla poured out the tea in
+serious silence, and she gradually soothed her own annoyance by the
+process.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," she said at length, breaking a long silence, "I should think
+Ralph Cochrane will be in England in ten days at the latest. We must not
+be too formal with him as he is a relation. Shall we ask him to luncheon
+on the Sunday after next?"</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla did not at once reply. When at length she looked up, it was
+with the air of one coming out of a reverie.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, if you like, Charlotte," she said, in her deep, quiet voice.
+"No doubt he will amuse you. I know you always enjoy Americans."</p>
+
+<p>"And you, my dear?" said Lady Raffold, with just a hint of sharpness in
+her tone.</p>
+
+<p>"I?" Again her stepdaughter paused a little, as if collecting her
+thoughts. "I shall not be here," she said finally. "I have decided to go
+down to Raffold for midsummer week, and I don't suppose I shall hurry
+back. It won't matter, will it? I often think that you entertain best
+alone. And I am so tired of London heat and dust."</p>
+
+<p>There was an unconscious note of wistfulness in the beautiful voice, but
+its dominant virtue was determination.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Raffold realised at once to her unspeakable indignation that
+protest was useless.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Priscilla," was all she found to say, "I am amazed&mdash;yes,
+amazed&mdash;at your total lack of consideration."</p>
+
+<p>But Priscilla was quite unimpressed.</p>
+
+<p>"You won't have time to miss me," she said. "I don't think any one will,
+except, perhaps, Dad; and he always knows where to find me."</p>
+
+<p>"Your father will certainly not leave town before the end of the
+season," said Lady Raffold, raising her voice slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor dear Dad!" murmured Priscilla.</p>
+
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<h3>THE ROMANCE OF HER LIFE</h3>
+
+
+<p>"And so I escaped. Her ladyship didn't like it, but it was worth a
+tussle."</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla leaned back luxuriously in the housekeeper's room at Raffold
+Abbey, and laughed upon a deep note of satisfaction. She had discarded
+all things fashionable with her departure from London in the height of
+the season. The crumpled linen hat she wore was designed for comfort and
+not for elegance. Her gown of brown holland was simplicity itself. She
+sat carelessly with her arm round the neck of an immense mastiff who had
+followed her in.</p>
+
+<p>"I've cut everything, Froggy," she declared, "including the terrible
+American cousin. In fact, it was almost more on his account than any
+other that I did it. For I can't and won't marry him, not even for the
+sake of the dear old Abbey! Are you very shocked, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>Froggy the housekeeper&mdash;so named by young Lord Mortimer in his schoolboy
+days&mdash;looked up from her work and across at Priscilla, her brown,
+prominent eyes, to which she owed her <i>sobriquet</i>, shining lovingly
+behind her spectacles. Her real name was Mrs. Burrowes, but Priscilla
+could not remember a time when she had ever called her anything but
+Froggy. The old familiar name had become doubly dear to both of them now
+that Mortimer was dead.</p>
+
+<p>"I should be very shocked, indeed, darling, if it were otherwise," was
+Froggy's answer.</p>
+
+<p>And Priscilla breathed a long sigh of contentment. She knew that there
+was no need to explain herself to this, her oldest friend.</p>
+
+<p>She laid her cheek comfortably against the great dog's ear.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Romeo," she murmured. "Your missis isn't going to be thrown at any
+man's head if she knows it. But it's a difficult world, old boy; almost
+an impossible world, I sometimes think. Froggy, I know you can be
+sentimental when you try. What should you do if you fell in love with a
+total stranger without ever knowing his name? Should you have the
+fidelity to live in single blessedness all your life for the sake of
+your hero?"</p>
+
+<p>Froggy looked a little startled at the question, lightly as it was put.
+She felt that it was scarcely a problem that could be settled offhand.
+And yet something in Priscilla's manner seemed to indicate that she
+wanted a prompt reply.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a little difficult to say, dear," she said, after brief
+reflection. "I can understand that one might be strongly attracted
+towards a stranger, but I should think it scarcely possible that one
+could go so far as to fall in love."</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla uttered a faint, rueful laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you couldn't, Froggy," she admitted. "But you know there is
+such a thing as loving at first sight. Some people go so far as to say
+that all true love begins that way."</p>
+
+<p>She rose quietly and went to her friend's side.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Froggy, it's very difficult to be true to your inner self when you
+stand quite alone," she said, "and every one else is thinking what a
+fool you are!" The words had an unwonted ring of passion in them, and,
+having uttered them, she knelt down by Froggy's side, and hid her face
+against the ample shoulder. "And I sometimes think I'm a fool myself,"
+she ended, in muffled accents.</p>
+
+<p>Froggy's arms closed instantly and protectingly around her.</p>
+
+<p>"My darling, who is it, then?" whispered her motherly voice.</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla did not at once reply. It was a difficult confidence to make.
+At last, haltingly, words came:</p>
+
+<p>"It was years ago&mdash;that summer we went to New York, Dad and I. He was
+from the South, so I heard afterwards. He stayed at the same hotel with
+us, one of those quiet, unobtrusive, big men&mdash;not big physically,
+but&mdash;you understand. I might not have noticed him&mdash;I don't know&mdash;but one
+day a man in the street threw down a flaming match just as I was coming
+out of the hotel. I had on a muslin dress, and it caught fire. Of
+course, it blazed in a moment, and I was terrified. Dad wasn't there.
+But the man was in the balcony just overhead, and he swung himself down,
+I never saw how, and caught me in his arms. He had nothing to put it out
+with. He simply threw me down and flung himself on the top, beating out
+the flames in all directions with his hands. I was dreadfully upset, of
+course, but I wasn't much hurt. He was&mdash;horribly. One of his hands was
+all charred.</p>
+
+<p>"He carried me back into the hotel and told me not to be frightened. And
+he stayed with me till I felt better, because somehow I wanted him to.
+He was so strong, Froggy, and so kind. He had a voice like a woman's.
+I've thought since that he must have thought me very foolish and
+uncontrolled. But he seemed to understand just how I felt. And&mdash;do you
+know&mdash;I never saw him again! He went right away that very afternoon, and
+we never found out who he was. And I never thanked him even for saving
+my life. I don't think he wanted to be thanked.</p>
+
+<p>"But I have never forgotten him. He was the sort of man you never could
+forget. I've never seen any one in the least like him. He was somehow so
+much greater than all the other men I know. Am I a fool, Froggy? I
+suppose I am. They say every woman will meet her mate if she waits long
+enough, but it can't be true. I suppose I might as well marry the Yankee
+heir, only I can't&mdash;I can't!"</p>
+
+<p>The low voice ceased, and there fell a silence. Froggy's arms were
+folded very closely about the kneeling girl, but she had no words of
+comfort or counsel to offer. She was, in fact, out of her depth, though
+not for worlds would she have had Priscilla know it.</p>
+
+<p>"You must just follow your own heart, dearest," she said at last. "And I
+think you will find happiness some day. God grant it!"</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla lifted her head and kissed her. She knew quite well that she
+had led whither Froggy could not follow. But the knowledge did not hurt
+her.</p>
+
+<p>She called Romeo, and went out into the summer sunshine, with a smile
+half tender and half humorous at the corners of her mouth. Poor Froggy!</p>
+
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<h3>THE PICNIC IN THE GLEN</h3>
+
+
+<p>"I think we will go for a picnic, Romeo," said Priscilla.</p>
+
+<p>It was a Saturday afternoon, warm and slumbrous, and Saturday was the
+day on which Raffold Abbey was open to the public when the family were
+away. Priscilla's presence was, as it were, unofficial, but though she
+was quite content to have it so, she was determined to escape from sight
+and hearing of the hot and dusty crowd that thronged the place on a fine
+day from three o'clock till six.</p>
+
+<p>Half a mile or more from the Abbey, a brown stream ran gurgling through
+a miniature glen, to join the river below the park gates. This stream
+had been Priscilla's great delight for longer than she could remember.
+As children, she and her brother Mortimer had spent hours upon its mossy
+banks, and since those days she had dreamed many dreams, aye, and shed
+many tears, within sound of its rushing waters. She loved the place. It
+was her haven of solitude. No one ever disturbed her there.</p>
+
+<p>The walk across the park made them both hot, and it was a relief to sit
+down on her favourite tree-root above the stream and yield herself to
+the luxury of summer idleness. A robin was chirping far overhead, and
+from the grass at her feet there came the whir of a grasshopper.
+Otherwise, save for the music of the stream, all was still. An
+exquisite, filmy drowsiness crept over her, and she slept.</p>
+
+<p>A deep growl from her bodyguard roused her nearly an hour later, and she
+awoke with a start.</p>
+
+<p>Romeo was sitting very upright, watching something on the farther side
+of the stream. He growled again as Priscilla sat up.</p>
+
+<p>She looked across in the same direction, and laid a hasty hand upon his
+collar.</p>
+
+<p>What she saw surprised her considerably. A man was lying face downwards
+on the brink of the stream, fishing about in the water, with one arm
+bared to the shoulder. He must have heard Romeo's warning growl, but he
+paid not the slightest attention to it. Priscilla watched him with keen
+interest. She could not see his face.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he clutched at something in the clear water, and immediately
+straightened himself, withdrawing his arm. Then, quite calmly, he looked
+across at her, and spoke in a peculiar, soft drawl like a woman's.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll forgive me for disturbing you, I know," he said, "when I tell
+you that all my worldly goods were at the bottom of this ditch."</p>
+
+<p>He displayed his recovered property as if to verify his words&mdash;a brown
+leather pocketbook with a silver clasp. Priscilla gazed from it to its
+owner in startled silence. Her heart was beating almost to suffocation.
+She knew this man.</p>
+
+<p>The water babbled on between them, singing a little tinkling song all
+its own. But the girl neither saw nor heard aught of her surroundings.
+She was back in the heat and whirl of a crowded New York thoroughfare,
+back in the fierce grip of this man's arms, hearing his quiet voice
+above her head, bidding her not to be frightened.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually the vision passed. The wild tumult at her heart died down. She
+became aware that he was waiting for her to speak, and she did so as one
+in a dream.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad you got it back," she said.</p>
+
+<p>His brown, clean-shaven face smiled at her, but there was no hint of
+recognition in his eyes. He had totally forgotten her, of course, as she
+had always told herself he would. Did not men always forget? And
+yet&mdash;and yet&mdash;was he not still her hero&mdash;the man for whose sake all
+other men were less than naught to her?</p>
+
+<p>Again Romeo growled deeply, and she tightened her hold upon him. The
+stranger, however, appeared quite unimpressed. He stood up and
+contemplated the stream that divided them with a measuring eye.</p>
+
+<p>"Have I your permission to come across?" he asked her finally, in his
+soft Southern drawl.</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a little nervously. He was not without audacity,
+notwithstanding his quiet manner.</p>
+
+<p>"You can cross if you like," she said. "But it's all private property."</p>
+
+<p>He paused, looking at her intently.</p>
+
+<p>"It belongs to Earl Raffold, I have been told?"</p>
+
+<p>She bent her head, and her answer leapt out with an ease that astonished
+her. She felt it to be an inspiration.</p>
+
+<p>"It does. But the family are in town for the season. I am staying with
+the housekeeper. She is allowed to have her friends when the family are
+away."</p>
+
+<p>It was rather breathlessly spoken, but he did not seem to notice.</p>
+
+<p>"I see," he said. "Then one more or less can't make much difference."</p>
+
+<p>With the words he took a single stride forward and bounded into the air.
+He landed lightly almost at her feet, and Romeo sprang up with an
+outraged snarl. It choked in his throat almost instantly, however, for
+the stranger laid a restraining hand upon him, and spoke with soothing
+self-assurance.</p>
+
+<p>"It's an evil brute that kills a friend, eh, old fellow? You couldn't do
+it if you tried."</p>
+
+<p>Romeo's countenance changed magically. He turned his hostility into an
+ardent welcome, and the girl at his side laughed again rather
+tremulously.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a good thing you weren't afraid. I couldn't have held him."</p>
+
+<p>"I saw that," said the Southerner, speaking softly, his face on a level
+with the great head he was caressing. "But I knew it would be all right.
+You see, I&mdash;kind of like dogs."</p>
+
+<p>He turned to her after a moment, a faintly quizzical expression about
+his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't intrude upon you," he said. "I can go and trespass elsewhere,
+you know."</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla was not as a rule reckless. A long training in her
+stepmother's school had made her cautious and far-seeing in all things
+social. She knew exactly the risk that lay in unconventionality. But,
+then, had she not fled from town to lead a free life? Why should she
+submit to the old, galling chain here in this golden world where its
+restraint was not known? Her whole being rose up in revolt at the bare
+idea, and suddenly, passionately, she decided to break free. Even the
+flowers had their day of riotous, splendid life. She would have hers,
+wherever its enjoyment might lead her, whatever it might cost!</p>
+
+<p>And so she answered him with a lack of reserve at which her London
+friends would have marvelled.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't intrude at all. If you have come to see the Abbey, I should
+advise you to wait till after six o'clock."</p>
+
+<p>"When it will be closed to the public?" he questioned, still looking
+quizzical.</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him, for the first time deliberately meeting his eyes.
+Yes it was plain that he did not know her; but on the whole she was
+glad, it made things easier. She had been so foolish and hysterical upon
+that far-off day when he had saved her life.</p>
+
+<p>"I will take you over it myself, if you care to accept my guidance," she
+said, "after the crowd have gone."</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at his watch.</p>
+
+<p>"And you are prepared to tolerate my society till six?" he said. "That
+is very generous of you."</p>
+
+<p>She smiled, with a touch of wistfulness.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I don't find my own very inspiring."</p>
+
+<p>He raised his eyebrows, but made no comment.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I had better tell you my name," he said, after a pause. "I am
+in a fashion connected with this place&mdash;a sort of friend of the family,
+if it isn't presumption to put it that way. My name is Julian Carfax,
+and Ralph Cochrane, the next-of-kin, is a pal of mine, a very great pal.
+He was coming over to England. Perhaps you heard. But he's a very shy
+fellow, and almost at the last moment he decided not to face it at
+present. I was coming over, so I undertook to explain. I spoke to Lady
+Raffold in town over the telephone, and told her. She seemed to be
+rather affronted, for some reason. Possibly it was my fault. I'm not
+much of a diplomatist, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>He seated himself on a mossy stone below her with this reflection, and
+began to cast pebbles into the brown water.</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla watched him gravely. What he had told her interested her
+considerably, but she had no intention of giving herself away by
+betraying it.</p>
+
+<p>There was a decided pause before she made up her mind how to pursue the
+subject.</p>
+
+<p>"I had no idea that an American could be shy," she said then.</p>
+
+<p>Carfax turned with his pleasant smile.</p>
+
+<p>"No? We're a pushing race, I suppose. But I think Cochrane had some
+excuse for his timidity this time."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" said Priscilla.</p>
+
+<p>He began to laugh quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, it turned out that he was expected to marry the old maid of
+the family&mdash;Lady Priscilla. Naturally he kicked at that."</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla bent sharply over Romeo, and began to examine one of his huge
+paws. Her face was a vivid scarlet.</p>
+
+<p>"It wasn't surprising, was it?" said Carfax, tossing another pebble into
+the stream. "It was more than enough, in my opinion, to make any fellow
+feel shy."</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla did not answer. The colour was slow to fade from her face.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if you have ever seen the lady?" Carfax pursued. "She was out
+of town when I was there."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I have seen her."</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla spoke with her head bent.</p>
+
+<p>"You have? What is she like?"</p>
+
+<p>He glanced round with an expression of amused interest. Priscilla looked
+up deliberately.</p>
+
+<p>"She is quite old and ugly. But I don't think Mr. Ralph Cochrane need be
+afraid. She doesn't like men. I am rather sorry for her myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry for her? Why?"</p>
+
+<p>Carfax became serious.</p>
+
+<p>"I think she is rather lonely," the girl said, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"You know her well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Can any one say that they really know any one? No. But I think that she
+feels very deeply, and that her life has always been more or less of a
+failure. At least, that is the sort of feeling I have about her."</p>
+
+<p>Again, but more gradually, the colour rose in her face. She took up her
+basket, and began to unpack it.</p>
+
+<p>Carfax turned fully round.</p>
+
+<p>"You go in for character-study," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"A little," she owned. "I can't help it. Now let me give you some tea. I
+have enough for two."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be delighted," he said courteously. "Let me help you to
+unpack."</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla could never recall afterwards how they spent the golden hours
+till six o'clock. She was as one in a dream, to which she clung closely,
+passionately, fearing to awake. For in her dream she was standing on the
+threshold of her paradise, waiting for the opening of the gates.</p>
+
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<h3>ON THE THRESHOLD</h3>
+
+
+<p>Raffold Abbey was huge and rambling, girt with many memories. They spent
+nearly two hours wandering through the house and the old, crumbling
+chapel.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a crypt below," Priscilla said, "but we can't go down without
+a lantern. Another day, if you cared&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I should, above all things," declared Carfax. "I was just
+going to ask when I might come again."</p>
+
+<p>Their intimacy had progressed wonderfully during those hours of
+companionship. The total absence of conventionality had destroyed all
+strangeness between them. They were as children on a holiday, enjoying
+the present to the full, and wholly careless of the future.</p>
+
+<p>Not till Carfax had at length taken his leave did Priscilla ask herself
+what had brought him there. Merely to view his friend's inheritance
+seemed a paltry reason. Perhaps he was a journalist, or a writer of
+guide-books. But she soon dismissed the matter, to ask herself a more
+personal question. Was it possible that he knew her? Had he found out
+her name after the New York episode, and come at last to seek her? She
+could not honestly believe this, though her heart leapt at the thought.
+That affair had taken place four long years before. Of course, he had
+forgotten it. It could have made no more than a passing impression upon
+him. Had it been otherwise, would he not have claimed her at once as an
+old acquaintance?</p>
+
+<p>Yes, it was plain that her first conviction must be correct. He did not
+know her. The whole incident had passed completely from his memory,
+crowded out, no doubt, and that speedily, by more absorbing interests.
+She had flashed across his life, attaining to no more importance than a
+bird upon the wing. He had saved her life at a frightful risk, and then
+forgotten her very existence. She had always realised it must be so,
+but, strangely, she had never resented it. In spite of it, with a
+woman's queer, inexplicable faithfulness, she yet loved her hero, yet
+cherished closely, fondly, the memory that she doubted not had faded
+utterly from his mind.</p>
+
+<p>She went to the village church with Froggy on the following day, though
+fully alive to the risk she ran of being pointed out to the ignorant as
+Lady Priscilla from the Abbey. She knew by some deep-hidden instinct
+that he would be there, and she was not disappointed. He came in late,
+and stood quite still just inside the little building, searching it up
+and down with keen, quiet eyes that never faltered in their progress
+till they lighted upon her. She fancied there was a faintly humorous
+expression about his mouth. His look did not dwell upon her. He stepped
+aside to a vacant chair close to the door, and Priscilla, in her great,
+square pew near the pulpit, saw him no more. When she left the church at
+the end of the service he had already disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Froggy went out to tea that afternoon with much solicitous regret, which
+Priscilla treated in a spirit of levity. She packed her tea-basket again
+as soon as she was alone, selecting her provisions with care. And soon
+after three, accompanied by Romeo, she started for the glen, not
+sauntering idly, but stepping briskly through the golden sunshine, as
+one with a purpose. She felt as if she were going to a trysting-place,
+though no word of a tryst had passed between them.</p>
+
+<p>He was there before her, bareheaded and alert, quite obviously awaiting
+her. He did not express his pleasure in words as he took her hand in
+his. Only there was an indescribable look in his brown eyes that made
+her very glad that she had come. He had brought an enormous basket of
+strawberries, which he presented with that drawling ease of manner which
+she had come to regard as peculiarly his own, and they settled down to
+the afternoon's enjoyment in a harmony as complete as the summer peace
+about them.</p>
+
+<p>No spoken confidences passed between them. Their intimacy was such as to
+make words seem superfluous. Both seemed to feel that the present was
+all-sufficing.</p>
+
+<p>Only once did Priscilla challenge Carfax's memory. The impulse was
+irresistible at the moment, though she regretted it later. He was
+holding out to her the biggest strawberry he could find. It lay on a
+leaf on the palm of his hand, and as she took it she suddenly saw a
+long, terrible scar extending upwards from his wrist till his sleeve hid
+it from view.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," she exclaimed, with a start; then, seeing his questioning look,
+"surely that's a burn?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is," said Carfax.</p>
+
+<p>He turned his hand over to hide it. His manner seemed to indicate that
+he did not wish to pursue the subject. But Priscilla, suddenly reckless,
+ignored the hint.</p>
+
+<p>"But how did you do it?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>Carfax hesitated for a second, then:</p>
+
+<p>"It was years ago," he said, rather unwillingly. "A lady's dress caught
+fire. It fell to me to put it out."</p>
+
+<p>"How brave!" murmured Priscilla. Her eyes were shining. Had he looked up
+then he must have read her secret.</p>
+
+<p>But he did not look up. For the first time he seemed to be labouring
+under some spell of embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>"It wasn't brave at all," he said, after a moment. "I could have done no
+less."</p>
+
+<p>There was almost a vexed note in his voice. Yet she persisted.</p>
+
+<p>"What was she like? Wasn't she very grateful?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know at all. I don't suppose she enjoyed the situation any more
+than I did."</p>
+
+<p>He plucked a tuft of moss and tossed it from him, as if therewith
+dismissing the subject. And Priscilla felt a little hurt, though not for
+worlds would she have suffered him to see it.</p>
+
+<p>It fell to him to break the silence a few seconds later, and he did so
+without a hint of difficulty.</p>
+
+<p>"When am I going to see the crypt?"</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla laughed a little.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you writing a book about the place?"</p>
+
+<p>He laughed back at her quite openly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not at present. When I do, it will be a romance, with you for heroine."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no; not me!" she protested. "I am a mere nobody. Lady Priscilla
+ought to be your heroine."</p>
+
+<p>He raised his eyebrows. She had begun to associate that look of his with
+protest rather than surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"I have yet to be introduced to Lady Priscilla," he said. "And as she
+doesn't like men, I almost think I shall forego the pleasure and keep
+out of her way."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I have given you a wrong impression about her," Priscilla said,
+speaking with a slight effort. "It is only the idle, foppish men about
+town she has no use for."</p>
+
+<p>"She is fastidious, apparently," he returned, lying down abruptly at her
+feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you like women to be fastidious?" Priscilla demanded boldly.</p>
+
+<p>He lay quite motionless for several seconds, then turned in a leisurely
+fashion upon his side to survey her.</p>
+
+<p>"You are fastidious?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I am!" Priscilla's words came rather breathlessly. "Don't you
+think me so?"</p>
+
+<p>Again he was silent for seconds. Then, in a baffling drawl, his answer
+came:</p>
+
+<p>"If you will allow me to say so, I think you are just the sweetest woman
+I ever met."</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla met his eyes for a single instant, and looked away. She was
+burning and throbbing from head to foot. She could find naught to say in
+answer; no word wherewith to turn his deliberate sentence into a jest.
+Perhaps in her secret heart she did not desire to do so, for a voice
+within her, a voice long stifled, cried out that she had met her mate.
+And, since surrender was inevitable, why should she seek to delay it?</p>
+
+<p>But Carfax said no more. Possibly he thought he had said too much. At
+least, after a long, quiet pause, he looked away from her; and the spell
+that bound her passed.</p>
+
+
+<h3>V</h3>
+
+<h3>THE OPENING GATES</h3>
+
+
+<p>That evening Priscilla found a letter from her stepmother awaiting
+her&mdash;a briefly worded, urgent summons.</p>
+
+<p>"Your cousin has not arrived, after all," it said. "Your father and I
+are greatly disappointed. Would it not be as well for you to return to
+town? You can scarcely, I fear, afford to waste your time in this
+fashion. Young Lord Harfield was asking for you most solicitously only
+yesterday. Such a charming man, I have always thought!"</p>
+
+<p>"That&mdash;chicken!" said Priscilla, and tossed her letter aside.</p>
+
+<p>Later, she went up to the top of the Abbey, and out on to a part of the
+roof that had been battlemented, to dream her dream again under the
+stars and to view her paradise yet more closely from before the opening
+gates.</p>
+
+<p>It was very late when she returned lightfooted to Froggy's sitting-room,
+and, kneeling by her friend's side, interposed her dark head between the
+kind, bulging eyes and the open Bible that lay upon the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Froggy," she whispered softly, "I'm so happy, dear&mdash;so happy!"</p>
+
+<p>And so kneeling, she told Froggy in short, halting sentences of the
+sudden splendour that had glorified her life.</p>
+
+<p>Froggy was greatly astonished, and even startled. She was also anxious,
+and showed it. But Priscilla hastened to smooth this away.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know it's sudden. But sometimes, you know, love is like that.
+Don't be anxious, Froggy. I am much more cautious&mdash;but what a ridiculous
+word!&mdash;than you think. He doesn't know who I am yet. I pretended to him
+that I was a relation of yours. And he isn't to know at present. You
+will keep that in mind, won't you? And in a day or two I shall bring him
+in here to tea, and you will be able to judge of him for yourself. No,
+dear, no; of course he hasn't spoken. It is much too soon. You forget
+that though I have known him so long, he has only known me for two days.
+Oh, Froggy, isn't it wonderful to think of&mdash;that he should have come at
+last like this? It is almost as if&mdash;as if my love had drawn him."</p>
+
+
+<h3>VI</h3>
+
+<h3>WITHIN HER PARADISE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Priscilla's reply to her stepmother's summons, written several days
+later, was a highly unsatisfactory epistle indeed, in the opinion of its
+recipient. She found it quite impossible to tear herself away from the
+country while the fine weather lasted, she wrote. She was enjoying
+herself immensely, and did not feel that she could ever endure the whole
+of a London season in one dose again.</p>
+
+<p>It was not a well-thought-out letter, being written in a haste that made
+itself obvious between the lines. Carfax had hired a motor-car, and was
+waiting for her. They went miles that day, and when they stopped at last
+they were in a country that she scarcely knew&mdash;a country of barren downs
+and great sunlit spaces, lonely, immense.</p>
+
+<p>"This is the place," said Carfax quietly, as he helped her to alight.</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla walked a few paces and stood still. She knew exactly why he
+had chosen it. Her heart was beating wildly. It seemed to dominate all
+her other faculties. She felt it to be almost more than she could bear.</p>
+
+<p>Those moments of unacknowledged waiting were terrible to her. She knew
+she had taken an irrevocable step, and her free instinct clamoured
+loudly against it. It amounted almost to a panic within her.</p>
+
+<p>There came a quiet step on the turf behind her. She did not turn, but
+the suspense became suddenly unendurable. With a convulsive movement,
+she made as if she would go on. At the same instant an arm encircled
+her, checked her, held her closely.</p>
+
+<p>"So, sweetheart!" said Julian Carfax, his voice soothing, womanly, but
+possessing withal a note of vitality, of purpose, that she had never
+heard in it before.</p>
+
+<p>She suffered his hold with a faint but desperate cry.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't know me," she said, with a gasping effort. "You don't&mdash;" The
+words failed. He was pressing her to him ever more closely, and she felt
+his fingers gently fumbling at her veil. With a sudden passionate
+movement she put up both hands, and threw it back.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" she said, with a sound, half laugh, half sob, and turned
+herself wholly to him.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant, as his lips pressed hers, all the anguish of doubt
+that had come upon her was gone like an evil spirit from her soul. She
+knew only that they stood alone together in a vast space that was filled
+to the brim with the noonday sunshine. All her heart was flooded with
+rejoicing. The gates had opened wide for her, and she had entered in.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VII</h3>
+
+<h3>BACK TO EARTH</h3>
+
+
+<p>Priscilla never quite realised afterwards how it was that the whole of
+that long summer day slipped by and her confession remained still
+unspoken. She did make one or two attempts to lead round to the subject,
+but each seemed to be foredoomed to failure, and at last she abandoned
+the idea&mdash;for that day, at least. It seemed, after all, but a paltry
+thing in face of her great happiness.</p>
+
+<p>They sped homeward at length in the light of a cloudless sunset,
+smoothly and swiftly as if they swooped through air.</p>
+
+<p>"I will take you to the edge of the park," Carfax said; and when they
+reached it he took her in his arms, holding her fast, as if he could not
+bear to let her go.</p>
+
+<p>They parted at last almost in silence, but with the tacit understanding
+that they would meet in the glen on the following day.</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla walked home through the lengthening shadows with a sense of
+wonderment and unreality at her heart. He had asked for no pledge, yet
+she knew that the bond between them was such as might stretch to the
+world's end and never break. They belonged to each other irrevocably
+now, whatever might intervene.</p>
+
+<p>She reached the Abbey, walking as in a maze of happiness, with no
+thought for material things.</p>
+
+<p>Romeo came to greet her with effusion, and an air of having something to
+tell her. She fondled him, and went on with him into the house. They
+entered by a conservatory, and so through the shrouded drawing-room into
+the great hall.</p>
+
+<p>The girl's eyes were dazzled by the sudden gloom she found there. She
+expected to meet no one, and so it was with a violent start that she saw
+a man's figure detach itself from the shadows and come towards her.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is it?" she asked sharply; and then in astonishment: "Why, Dad!"</p>
+
+<p>Her father's voice answered her, but not with the gruff kindliness to
+which she was accustomed. It came to her grim and stern, and she knew
+instinctively that he hated the errand that had brought him.</p>
+
+<p>"I have come down to fetch you," he said. "I do not approve of your
+being here alone. It is unusual and quite unnecessary. You are quite
+well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am well," Priscilla said. "But why should you object to my being
+here?"</p>
+
+<p>She stood still, facing him. She knew who had inspired this
+interference, and from the bottom of her soul she resented it. Her
+father did not answer. Thinking it over calmly later, she knew that he
+was ashamed.</p>
+
+<p>"Be ready to start from here in half an hour," he said. "We shall catch
+the nine-thirty."</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla made no further protest. Her father had never addressed that
+tone to her before, and it cut her to the heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," she said; and turned to go.</p>
+
+<p>Her deep voice held no anger, and only Romeo, pressed close against her,
+knew that the hand that had just caressed him was clenched and
+quivering.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VIII</h3>
+
+<h3>HER SIMPLE DUTY</h3>
+
+
+<p>Priscilla left a hastily scribbled note for Carfax in Froggy's keeping.
+In it she explained that she was obliged to go to town, but that she
+would meet him there any day before noon at any place that he would
+appoint. Froggy was to be the medium of his communication also.</p>
+
+<p>She made no mention of Carfax to her father. He had hurt her far too
+deeply for any confidence to be possible. Moreover, it seemed to her
+that she had no right to speak until Carfax himself gave her leave.</p>
+
+<p>She did not see her stepmother till the following day. The greeting
+between them was of the coolest, though Lady Raffold, being triumphant,
+sought to infuse a little sentiment into hers.</p>
+
+<p>"I am really worn out, Priscilla," she said. "It is my turn now to have
+a little rest. I am going to leave all the hard work to you. It will be
+such a relief."</p>
+
+<p>Three days later, however, she relinquished this attitude. Priscilla was
+summoned to her room, where she was breakfasting, and found her in great
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child, he has arrived. He has actually arrived, and is staying
+at the Ritz. He must come and dine with us to-morrow night. It will be
+quite an informal affair&mdash;only thirty&mdash;so it can easily be managed. He
+must take you in, Priscilla; and, oh, my dear, do remember that it is
+the great opportunity of your life, and it mustn't be thrown away,
+whatever happens! Your father has set his heart upon it."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you talking about Mr. Cochrane?" asked Priscilla.</p>
+
+<p>"To be sure. Who else? Now don't put on that far-away look, pray! You
+know what is, after all, your simple duty, and I trust you mean to do
+it. You can't be going to disappoint your father in this matter. And you
+really must marry soon Priscilla. It is getting serious. In fact, it
+worries me perpetually. By the way, here is a letter for you from
+Raffold. It must have got among mine by mistake. Mrs. Burrowes's
+handwriting, I imagine."</p>
+
+<p>She was right. It was directed by Froggy, but Priscilla paled suddenly
+as she took it, realising that it contained an answer to her own urgent
+note.</p>
+
+<p>Alone in her own room she opened it. The message was even briefer than
+hers had been: "Sweetheart,&mdash;At 11 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span>, on Thursday, under the
+dome of St. Paul's Cathedral.&mdash;I am thine, J. C."</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla stood for long seconds with the note in her hand. It had
+reached her too late. The appointment had been for the day before. She
+turned to the envelope, and saw that it must have been lying among her
+stepmother's correspondence for two days. Doubtless he had waited for
+her at the trysting-place, and waited in vain.</p>
+
+<p>Only one thing remained to be done, and that was to telegraph to Froggy
+for Carfax's address. But Froggy's answer, when it came, was only
+another disappointment:</p>
+
+<p>"Address not known. Did you not receive letter I forwarded?"</p>
+
+<p>Reluctantly Priscilla realised that there was nothing for it but
+patience. Carfax would almost certainly write again through Froggy.</p>
+
+<p>That he had not her address she knew, for Froggy was under a solemn vow
+to reveal nothing, but she would not believe that he would regard her
+failure to keep tryst as a deliberate effort to snub him, though the
+fear that he might do so haunted and grew upon her all through the day.</p>
+
+<p>She went to a theatre that night, and later to a dance, but neither
+entertainment served to lift the deadening weight from her spirits. She
+was miserable, and the four hours she subsequently spent in bed brought
+her no relief.</p>
+
+<p>She rose at last in sheer desperation, and went for an early ride in the
+Park. She met a few acquaintances, but she shook them off. She wanted to
+be alone.</p>
+
+<p>When she was returning, however, her youthful admirer, Lord Harfield,
+attached himself to her, refusing to be discouraged.</p>
+
+<p>"I met your cousin at the Club yesterday," he told her.</p>
+
+<p>"What is he like?" Priscilla asked, without much interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, haven't you seen him yet? A very queer fish, with a twang you could
+cut with a knife. Don't think you'll like him," said Lord Harfield, who
+was jealous of every man who so much as bowed to Priscilla.</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla smiled faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think so, either," she said. "You are coming to dine with us
+to-night, aren't you? He will be there too."</p>
+
+<p>"Will he? I say, what a bore for you! Yes, I'm coming. I'll do my best
+to help you," the boy assured her eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>And again Priscilla smiled. She was quite sure that she would be bored,
+whatever happened, though she was too kind-hearted to say so.</p>
+
+
+<h3>IX</h3>
+
+<h3>THE COMING OF HER HERO</h3>
+
+
+<p>"I wonder why Priscilla has put on that severely plain attire? It makes
+her look almost ugly," sighed Lady Raffold. "And how dreadfully pale she
+is to-night! Really, I have never seen her look more unattractive."</p>
+
+<p>She turned with her most dazzling smile to receive the American
+Ambassador, and no one could have guessed that under her smile was real
+anger, because her stepdaughter was gracing the occasion in a robe of
+sombre black.</p>
+
+<p>All the guests had arrived with the exception of Ralph Cochrane, the
+heir-apparent, as Priscilla styled him, and Lady Raffold chatted with
+one eye on the door. It was too bad of the young man to be late.</p>
+
+<p>She was just giving him up in despair, and preparing to proceed to the
+dining-room without him, when his name was announced. Lord Raffold went
+forward to meet him. Priscilla, sitting on a lounge with Lord Harfield's
+mother, caught the sound of a soft, leisurely voice apologising; and
+something tightened suddenly at her heart, and held its beating. It was
+a voice she knew.</p>
+
+<p>As through a mist, she looked across the great room, with its many
+lights, its buzz of careless voices. And suddenly, it seemed to her, she
+was back in the little village church at Raffold, furtively watching a
+stranger who stood in the entrance, and searched with level scrutiny
+quite deliberately and frankly till he found her.</p>
+
+<p>Their eyes met, and her heart thrilled responsively as an instrument
+thrills to the hand of a skilled player.</p>
+
+<p>Almost involuntarily she rose. There was some mistake. She knew there
+must be some mistake. She felt that in some fashion it rested with her
+to explain and to justify his presence there.</p>
+
+<p>But in that instant his eyes left her, and the magnetism that compelled
+her died swiftly down. She saw him shake hands with Lady Raffold, and
+bow to the Ambassador.</p>
+
+<p>Then came her stepmother's quick, beckoning glance, and she moved
+forward in response to it. She was quivering from head to foot,
+bewildered, in some subtle fashion afraid.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, your cousin. He will take you in. Ralph, this is Priscilla."</p>
+
+<p>It was sublimely informal. Lady Raffold had rehearsed that introduction
+several times. It was half the battle that the young man should feel
+himself one of the family from the outset.</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla grabbed at her self-control, and managed to bow. But the next
+instant his hand, strong, warm, reassuring, grasped hers.</p>
+
+<p>"Curious, isn't it?" the quiet voice asked. "We can't be strangers, you
+and I."</p>
+
+<p>The grip of his fingers was close and intimate. It was as if he appealed
+for her support.</p>
+
+<p>With an effort she forced herself to respond:</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not. It must be quite five years since our first meeting."</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her oddly, quizzically, as he offered his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes," he drawled, as they began to move towards the door. "Should
+auld acquaintance be forgot? It is exactly five years ago to-day."</p>
+
+
+<h3>X</h3>
+
+<h3>THE STORY OF A FRAUD</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Funny, wasn't it, sweetheart?"</p>
+
+<p>The soft voice reached her through a buzz of other louder voices.
+Priscilla moved slightly, but she did not turn her head.</p>
+
+<p>"You will have to explain," she said. "I don't understand anything yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Nor I," came the quiet retort. "It's the woman's privilege to explain
+first, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>Against her will, the blood rose in her face. She threw him a quick
+glance.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't possibly explain anything here," she said.</p>
+
+<p>He met her look with steady eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me tell you the story of a fraud," he said; and proceeded without
+further preliminary. "There was once a man&mdash;a second son, without
+prospects and without fame&mdash;who had the good fortune to do a service to
+a woman. He went away immediately afterwards lest he should make a fool
+of himself, for she was miles above his head, anyway. But he never
+forgot her. The mischief was done, so far as he was concerned."</p>
+
+<p>He broke off, and raised his champagne to his lips as if he drank to a
+memory.</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla was listening, but her eyes were downcast. She wore the old,
+absent look that her stepmother always deprecated. The soft drawl at her
+side continued, every syllable distinct and measured.</p>
+
+<p>"Years passed, and things changed. The man had belonged to a cadet
+branch of an aristocratic British family. But one heir after another
+died, till only he was left to inherit. The woman belonged to the older
+branch of the family, but, being a woman, she was passed over. A time
+came when he was invited by the head of the house to go and see his
+inheritance. He would have gone at once and gladly, but for a hint at
+the end of the letter to the effect that, if he would do his part, what
+the French shamelessly call a <i>mariage de convenance</i> might be arranged
+between his cousin and himself&mdash;an arrangement advantageous to them both
+from a certain point of view. He didn't set up for a paragon of
+morality. Perhaps even, had things been a little different, he might
+have been willing. As it was, he didn't like the notion, and he jibbed."
+He paused. "But for all that," he said, his voice yet quieter and more
+deliberate, "he wanted the woman, if he could make her care for him.
+That was his difficulty. He had a feeling all along that the thing must
+be an even greater offence to her than it was to him. He worried it all
+through, and at last he worked out a scheme for them both. He called
+himself by an old school <i>alias</i>, and came to her as a stranger&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"You're not eating anything, sweetheart. Wouldn't it be as well, just
+for decency's sake? There's a comic ending to this story, so you mustn't
+be sad. Who's that boy scowling at me on the other side of the table?
+What's the matter with the child?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind," murmured Priscilla hastily. "He doesn't mean anything.
+Please go on."</p>
+
+<p>He began to laugh at her with gentle ridicule.</p>
+
+<p>"Impatient for the third act? Well, the scheme worked all right. But
+it so chanced that the woman decided to be subtle, too. She knew him
+for an old friend the instant she saw him. But he pretended to have
+forgotten that old affair in New York. He didn't want her to feel in
+any way under an obligation. So he played the humble stranger, and
+she&mdash;sweetheart&mdash;she played the simple, country maiden, and she did it
+to perfection. I think, you know, that she was a little afraid her name
+and title would frighten him away."</p>
+
+<p>"And so he humoured her?" said Priscilla, a slight quiver in her deep
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"They humoured each other, sweetheart. That was where it began to be
+funny. Now I am going to get you to tell me the rest of the story."</p>
+
+<p>She turned towards him again, her face very pale.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; it's very funny, no doubt&mdash;funny for the man, I mean; for the
+woman, I am not so sure. How does she know that he really cared for her
+from the beginning; that he was always quite honest in his motive? How
+can she possibly know this?"</p>
+
+<p>Again for a moment their eyes met. There was no hint of dismay in the
+man's brown face.</p>
+
+<p>"She does know it, sweetheart," he answered, with confidence. "I can't
+tell you how. Probably she couldn't, either. He was going to explain
+everything, you know, under the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. But for
+some reason it didn't come off. He spent three solid hours waiting for
+her, but she didn't come. She had found him out, perhaps? And was
+angry?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," said Priscilla, her voice very low.</p>
+
+<p>Again he raised his glass to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"We will have the end of the story presently," he said; and deliberately
+turned to his left-hand neighbour.</p>
+
+
+<h3>XI</h3>
+
+<h3>THE END OF THE STORY</h3>
+
+
+<p>A musical <i>soir&eacute;e</i> was to follow that interminable dinner, and for a
+time Priscilla was occupied in helping Lady Raffold to receive the
+after-dinner guests. She longed to escape before the contingent from the
+dining-room arrived upstairs, but she soon realised the impossibility of
+this. Her stepmother seemed to want her at every turn, and when at
+length she found herself free, young Lord Harfield appeared at her
+elbow.</p>
+
+<p>It was intolerable. She turned upon him without pity.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, please," she said, "I've dropped my fan in the dining-room or on
+the stairs. Would you be so kind&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He departed, not suspecting her of treachery; and she slipped forthwith
+into a tiny conservatory behind the piano. It was her only refuge. She
+could but hope that no one had seen her retire thither. Her need for
+solitude just then was intense. She felt herself physically incapable of
+facing the crowd in the music-room any longer. The first crashing chords
+of the piano covered her retreat. She shut herself softly in, and sank
+into the only chair the little place contained.</p>
+
+<p>Her mind was a chaos of conflicting emotions. Anger, disappointment, and
+an almost insane exultation fought together for the mastery. She longed
+to be rational, to think the matter out quietly and impartially, and
+decide how to treat it. But her most determined efforts were vain. The
+music disturbed her. She felt as if the chords were hammering upon her
+brain. Yet when it suddenly ceased, the unexpected silence was almost
+harder to bear.</p>
+
+<p>In the buzz of applause that ensued, the door behind her opened, and a
+man entered.</p>
+
+<p>She heard the click of the key in the lock, and turned sharply to
+protest. But the words died on her lips, for there was that in his
+brown, resolute face that silenced her. She became suddenly breathless
+and quivering before him, as she had been that day on the down when he
+had taken her into his arms.</p>
+
+<p>He withdrew the key, and dropped it into her lap.</p>
+
+<p>"Open if you will," he said, in the quiet voice, half tender, half
+humorous, that she had come to know so well. "I am closely followed by
+the infant with the scowl."</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla sat silent in her chair. What could she say to him?</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" he said, after a moment. "The end of the story&mdash;is it written
+yet?"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head dumbly. Curiously, the throbbing anger had left her
+heart at the mere sound of his voice.</p>
+
+<p>He waited for about three seconds, then knelt quietly down beside her.</p>
+
+<p>"Say," he drawled, "I kind of like Raffold Abbey, sweetheart. Wouldn't
+it be nice to spend our honeymoon there? Do you think they would let
+us?" He laid his hand upon both of hers. "Wouldn't it be good?" he said
+softly. "I should think there would be room for two, eh, sweetheart?"</p>
+
+<p>With an effort she sought to withstand him before he wholly dominated
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"And every one will call it a <i>mariage de convenance</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Let them!" he answered, with suppressed indifference. "I reckon we
+shall have the laugh. But it isn't so unusual, you know. Americans
+always fall in love at first sight."</p>
+
+<p>He was unanswerable. He was sublime. She marvelled that she could have
+ever even attempted to resist him.</p>
+
+<p>With a sudden, tremulous laugh, she caught his hand to her, holding it
+fast.</p>
+
+<p>"Not Americans only!" she said. And swiftly, passionately, she bent and
+pressed her lips to the red, seared scar upon her hero's wrist.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Example" id="The_Example"></a>The Example</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>"And the fourth angel poured out his vial upon the sun; and power was
+given unto him to scorch men with fire. And men were scorched with great
+heat, and blasphemed the name of God, which hath power over these
+plagues; and they repented not to give Him glory."</p>
+
+<p>The droning voice quivered and fell silent. Within the hospital tent,
+only the buzz of flies innumerable was audible. Without, there sounded
+near at hand the squeak of a sentry's boots, and in the distance the
+clatter of the camp.</p>
+
+<p>The man who lay dying was in a remote and quite detached sense aware of
+these things, but his fevered imagination had carried him beyond. He
+watched, as it were, the glowing pictures that came and went in his
+furnace of pain. These little details were to him but the distant
+humming of the spinning-wheel of time from which he was drawing ever
+farther and farther away. They did not touch that inner consciousness
+with which he saw his visions.</p>
+
+<p>Now and then he turned his head sharply on the pillow, as an alien might
+turn at the sound of a familiar voice, but always, after listening
+intently, it came back to its old position, and the man's restless eyes
+returned to the crack high up in the tent canvas through which the sun
+shone upon him like a piercing eye.</p>
+
+<p>The occupant of the bed next to him watched him furtively, fascinated
+but uneasy. He was a young soldier of the simple country type, and the
+wild words that came now and again from the fevered lips startled him
+uncomfortably. He wished the dying man would cease his mutterings and
+let him sleep. But every time the prolonged silence seemed to indicate a
+final cessation of the nuisance, the droning voice took up the tale once
+more.</p>
+
+<p>"And men were scorched with great heat&mdash;and they repented not&mdash;repented
+not."</p>
+
+<p>A soft-stepping native orderly moved to the bedside and paused.
+Instantly the wandering words were hushed.</p>
+
+<p>"Bring me some water, Sammy," the same voice said huskily. "If you can't
+take the sun out of the sky, you can give me a drink."</p>
+
+<p>The native shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"The doctor will come soon," he said soothingly. "Have patience."</p>
+
+<p>Patience! The word had no meaning for him in that inferno of suffering.
+He moved his head, that searching spot of sunlight dancing in his eyes,
+and cursed deep in his throat the man who kept him waiting.</p>
+
+<p>Barely a minute later the doctor came&mdash;a quiet, bronzed man, level-eyed
+and strong. He bent over the stricken figure on the bed, and drew the
+tumbled covering up a little higher. He had just written "mortally
+wounded" of this man on his hospital report, but there was nothing in
+his manner to indicate that he had no hope for him.</p>
+
+<p>"Get another pillow," he said to the native orderly. And to the dying
+man: "That will take the sun out of your eyes. I see it is bothering
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Curse the sun!" the parched lips gasped. "Can't you give me a drink?"</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of the young soldier in the next bed scanned the doctor's face
+anxiously. He, too, wanted a drink. He thirsted from the depths of his
+soul. But he knew there was no water to be had. The supply had been cut
+off hours before.</p>
+
+<p>"No," the doctor said gravely. "I can't give it you yet. By-and-bye,
+perhaps&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"By-and-bye!" There was a dreadful sound like laughter in the husky
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor laid a restraining hand on the man's chest.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" he said, in a lower tone. "It's this sort of thing that shows
+what a fellow is made of. All these other poor chaps are children. But
+you, Ford, you are grown up, so to speak. I look to you to help me,&mdash;to
+set the example."</p>
+
+<p>"Example! Man alive!" A queer light danced like a mocking spirit in
+Private Ford's eyes, and again he laughed&mdash;an exceeding bitter laugh.
+"I've been made an example of all my life," he said. "I've sometimes
+thought it was what I was created for. Ah, thanks!" he added in a
+different tone, as the doctor raised him on the extra pillow. "You're a
+brick, sir! Sit down a minute, will you? I want to talk to you."</p>
+
+<p>The doctor complied, his hand on the wounded man's wrist.</p>
+
+<p>"That's better," Ford said. "Keep it there. And stop me if I rave. It's
+a queer little world, isn't it? I remember you well, but you wouldn't
+know me. You were one of the highfliers, and I was always more or less
+of an earthworm. But you'll remember Rotherby, the captain of the first
+eleven? A fine chap&mdash;that. He's dead now, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," the doctor said, "Rotherby's dead."</p>
+
+<p>He was looking with an intent scrutiny at the scarred and bandaged face
+on the pillow. He had felt from the first that this man was no ordinary
+ranker. Yet till that moment it had never occurred to him that they
+might have met before.</p>
+
+<p>"I always liked Rotherby," the husky voice went on. "He was a big swell,
+and he didn't think much of small fry. But you&mdash;you and he were friends,
+weren't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"For a time," the doctor said. "It didn't last."</p>
+
+<p>There was regret in his voice&mdash;the keen regret of a man who has lost a
+thing he valued.</p>
+
+<p>"No; it didn't last," Ford agreed. "I remember when you chucked him. Or
+was it the other way round? I saw a good deal of him in those days. I
+thought him a jolly good fellow, till I found out what a scoundrel he
+was. And I had a soft feeling for him even then. You knew he was a
+scoundrel, didn't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I knew."</p>
+
+<p>The doctor spoke reluctantly. The hospital tent, the silent row of
+wounded men, the stifling atmosphere, the flies, all were gone from his
+inner vision. He was looking with grave, compassionate eyes at the
+picture that absorbed the man at his side.</p>
+
+<p>"He was good company, eh?" the restless voice went on. "But he had his
+black moments. I didn't know him so well in the days when you and he
+were friends."</p>
+
+<p>"Nor I," the doctor said. "But&mdash;why do you want to talk of him?"</p>
+
+<p>Again he was searching the face at his side with grave intensity. It did
+not seem to him that this man could ever have been of the sort that his
+friend Rotherby would have cared to admit to terms of intimacy.
+Rotherby&mdash;notwithstanding his sins&mdash;had been fastidious in many ways.</p>
+
+<p>The answer seemed to make the matter more comprehensible.</p>
+
+<p>"I was with him when he died," the man said. "It was in just such an
+inferno as this. We were alone together, looking for gold in the
+Australian desert. We didn't find it, though it was there, mountains of
+it. The water gave out. We tossed for the last drain&mdash;and I won. That
+was how Rotherby came to die. He hadn't much to live for, and he was
+going to die, anyhow. A queer chap, he was. He and his wife never lived
+together after the smash came, and he had to leave the country. Perhaps
+you knew?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," the doctor said again, "I knew."</p>
+
+<p>Ford moved his head restlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"The thought of her used to worry him in the night," he said. "I've
+known him lie for hours not sleeping, just staring up at the stars, and
+thinking, thinking. I've sometimes thought that the worst torture on
+earth can't equal that. You know, after he was dead, they found her
+miniature on him&mdash;a thing in a gold case, with their names engraved
+inside. He used to wear it round his neck like a charm. It was by that
+they identified him&mdash;that and his signet-ring, and one or two letters.
+Scamp though I was, I had the grace not to rob the dead. They sent the
+things to his wife. I've often wondered what she did with them."</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell you that," said the doctor quietly. "She keeps them among
+her greatest treasures."</p>
+
+<p>Ford turned sharply on his pillows, and stifled an exclamation of pain.</p>
+
+<p>"You know her still, then?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"She is my wife," the doctor answered.</p>
+
+<p>A long silence followed his words. The wounded soldier lay with closed
+eyes and drawn brows. He seemed to be unconscious of everything save
+physical pain.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he seemed to recover himself, and looked up.</p>
+
+<p>"You," he said slowly, "you are Montagu Durant, the fellow she was
+engaged to before she married Rotherby."</p>
+
+<p>The doctor bent his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said. "I am Montagu Durant."</p>
+
+<p>"Rotherby's friend," Ford went on. "The chap who stuck to him through
+thick and thin&mdash;to be betrayed in the end. I know all about you, you
+see, though you haven't placed me yet."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I can't place you," Durant said. "I don't think we ever knew each
+other very well. You will have to tell me who you are."</p>
+
+<p>"Later&mdash;later," said Ford. "No, you never knew me very well. It was
+always you and Rotherby, you and Rotherby. You never looked at any one
+else, till that row at the 'Varsity when he got kicked out. Yes," with a
+sudden, sharp sigh, "I was a 'Varsity man too. I admired Leonard
+Rotherby in those days. Poor old Leo! He knew how to hit a boundary as
+well as any fellow! You never forgave him, I suppose, for marrying your
+girl?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause, and the fevered eyes sought Durant's face. The answer
+came at length very slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"I could have forgiven him," Durant said, "if he had stuck to her and
+made her happy."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! There came the rub. But did Rotherby ever stick to anything? It was
+a jolly good thing he died&mdash;for all concerned. Yet, you know, he cared
+for her to the last. Blackguard as he was, he carried her in his heart
+right up to his death. I tell you I was with him, and I know."</p>
+
+<p>There was strong insistence in the man's words. Durant could feel the
+racing pulse leap and quiver under his hand. He leaned forward a little,
+looking closely into the drawn face.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you have talked enough," he said. "Try to get some rest."</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't raved," said Ford, with confidence. "It has done me good to
+talk. I can't help thinking of Leo Rotherby. My brain runs on him. He
+wanted to see you&mdash;horribly&mdash;before he died. I believe he'd have asked
+your forgiveness. But you wouldn't have given it to him, I suppose? You
+will never forgive him in your heart?"</p>
+
+<p>Again the answer did not come at once. Durant was frowning a little&mdash;the
+frown of a man who tries to fathom his own secret impulses.</p>
+
+<p>"I think," he said at last, "that if I had seen him and he had asked for
+it, I should not have refused my forgiveness."</p>
+
+<p>"No one ever refused Rotherby anything," said the dying man, with a
+curious, half-humorous twist of his mouth under its dark moustache.</p>
+
+<p>"Except yourself," Durant reminded him, almost involuntarily.</p>
+
+<p>Again the wandering, uneasy eyes sought his. "You mean&mdash;that drain of
+water," Ford said, with a total lack of shame or remorse. "Yes, it's
+true Rotherby didn't have that. But it didn't make any difference, you
+know. He was going to die. And the living come before the dead, eh,
+doctor?"</p>
+
+<p>Durant did not quite understand his tone, but he suffered the words to
+go unchallenged. He was not there to discuss the higher morality with a
+dying man. Moreover, he knew that the bare mention of water was a fiery
+torture to him, disguise it as he might.</p>
+
+<p>He sat a little longer, then rose to go. He fancied that there was a
+shade less of restlessness about this man, whom he knew to be suffering
+what no other man in the tent could have endured in silence.</p>
+
+<p>In response to a sign he stooped to catch a few, low-spoken words.</p>
+
+<p>"By-and-bye," said Private Ford, with husky self-assurance, "when it's
+dark&mdash;or only moonlight&mdash;a man will creep out between the lines and
+crawl down to the river, to get some water for&mdash;the children."</p>
+
+<p>He was wandering again, Durant saw; and his pity mounted high.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps, poor fellow; perhaps," he answered gently.</p>
+
+<p>As he went away he heard again the droning, unconscious voice:</p>
+
+<p>"And power was given unto him to scorch men with fire. And men were
+scorched&mdash;with great heat. Eh, Sammy? Is that water you have there?
+Quick! Give me&mdash;what? There is none? Then why the&mdash;why the&mdash;" There came
+an abrupt pause; then a brief, dry chuckle that was like the crackling
+of flame through dead twigs. "Ah, I forgot. I mustn't curse. I've got to
+set the example to these children. But, O God, the heat and the flies!"</p>
+
+<p>Durant wondered if after all it had been a kindness to call back the
+passing spirit that had begun to forget.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Slowly the scorching day wore away, till evening descended in a blaze of
+gorgeous colouring upon the desolate African wilderness and the band of
+men that had been surrounded and cut off by a wily enemy.</p>
+
+<p>They were expecting relief. Hourly they expected it, but, being hampered
+by a score of wounded, it was not possible for them to break through the
+thickly populated scrub unassisted. And they had no water.</p>
+
+<p>A stream flowed, brown and sluggish, not more than a hundred yards below
+the camp. But that same stream was flanked on the farther side by a
+long, black line of thicket that poured forth fire upon any man who
+ventured out from behind the great rocks that protected the camp.</p>
+
+<p>It had been attempted again and again, for the needs of the wounded were
+desperate. But each effort had been disastrous, and at last an order had
+gone forth that no man was to expose himself again to this deadly risk.</p>
+
+<p>So, silent behind their entrenchments, with the hospital tent in their
+midst, the British force had to endure the situation, waiting with a
+dogged patience for the coming of their comrades who could not be far
+away.</p>
+
+<p>Regal to the last, the sun sank away in orange and gold; and night,
+burning, majestic, shimmering, spread over a cloudless sky. A full moon
+floated up behind dense forest trees, and shed a glimmering radiance
+everywhere. The heat did not seem to vary by a breath.</p>
+
+<p>A great restlessness spread like a wave through the hospital tent. Men
+waked from troubled slumber, crying aloud like children, piteously,
+unreasoningly, for water.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor went from one to another, restraining, soothing, reassuring.
+His influence made itself felt, and quiet returned; but it was a quiet
+that held no peace; it was the silent gripping of an agony that was
+bound to overcome.</p>
+
+<p>Again and again through the crawling hours the bitter protest broke out
+afresh, like the crying of souls in torment. One or two became delirious
+and had to be forcibly restrained from struggling forth in search of
+that which alone could still their torture.</p>
+
+<p>Durant was too fully occupied with these raving patients of his to spare
+any attention for the bed in the far corner on which they had laid the
+one man whose injuries were mortal. If he thought of the man at all, it
+was to reflect that he was probably dead.</p>
+
+<p>But at last a young officer entered the seething tent, and touched him
+on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you come outside a moment? You're wanted," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Durant turned from a man who was lying exhausted and barely conscious,
+took up his case, and followed him out. He did just glance at the bed in
+the corner as he went, but he saw no movement there.</p>
+
+<p>His summoner turned upon him abruptly as they emerged.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here," he said. "There's a water-bag quite full, waiting for those
+poor beggars in there. Better send one of the orderlies for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Water!" said Durant sharply, as if the news were difficult to believe.
+Then, recovering himself: "Tell the sentry, will you? I can't spare an
+orderly."</p>
+
+<p>The young officer complied, and hurried him on.</p>
+
+<p>"The poor chap is breathing his last," he said. "You can't do him any
+good, but he wants you."</p>
+
+<p>"Who is it?" asked the doctor.</p>
+
+<p>"The man who fetched the water&mdash;Ford. He was badly wounded when he
+started. He crawled every inch of the way on his stomach, and back
+again, dragging the bag with him. Heaven knows how he did it! It's taken
+him hours."</p>
+
+<p>"Ford?" the doctor said incredulously. "Ford? Impossible! How did he get
+away?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he crawled through somehow; Heaven only knows how! But he's done
+now, poor beggar&mdash;pegging out fast. We got him into shelter, but we
+couldn't do more, he was in such agony."</p>
+
+<p>The speaker stopped, for Durant had broken into a run. The moonlight
+showed him a group of men gathered about a prone figure. They separated
+and stood aside as he reached them; and he, kneeling, found in the prone
+figure the man who had talked with him in the afternoon of the friend
+who had played him false.</p>
+
+<p>He was very far gone, lying in a dreadful twisted heap, his head, with
+its bloodstained bandages, resting on his arm. Yet Durant saw that he
+still lived, and tried with gentle hands to ease the strain of his
+position.</p>
+
+<p>With a sharp gasp, Ford opened his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo!" he said. "It's you, is it? Did they get the water?"</p>
+
+<p>"They have got it by now," the doctor answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" The man's lips twisted in a difficult smile. He struggled bravely
+to keep the mortal agony out of his face. "Gave you the slip that time,"
+he gasped. "Disobeyed orders, too. But it didn't matter&mdash;except for
+example. You must tell them, eh? Dying men have privileges."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell him he'd have had the V. C. for it," whispered the officer in
+command, over the doctor's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>Durant complied, and caught the quick gleam that shot up in the dying
+eyes at his words.</p>
+
+<p>"The gods were always behind time&mdash;with me," came the husky whisper. "I
+used to think I'd scale Olympus, but&mdash;they kicked me down. If&mdash;if
+there's any water to spare, when it's gone round, I&mdash;I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He broke off with a rending cough. Some one put a tin cup into the
+doctor's hand, and he held it to the parched lips. Ford drank in great
+gulps, and, as he drank, the worst agony passed. His limbs relaxed after
+the draught, and he lay quite still, his face to the sky.</p>
+
+<p>After the passage of minutes he spoke again suddenly. His voice was no
+longer husky, but clear and strong. His eyes were the eyes of a man who
+sees a vision.</p>
+
+<p>"Jove!" he said. "What a princely gathering to see me carry out my bat!
+Don't grin, you fellows. I know it was a fluke&mdash;a dashed fine fluke,
+too. But it's what I always meant, after all. There's good old Monty,
+yelling himself hoarse in the pavilion. And his girl&mdash;waving. Sweet
+girl, too&mdash;the best in the world. I might cut him out there. But I
+won't, I won't! I'm not such a hound as that, though she's the only
+woman in the world, bless her, bless her!"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped. Durant was bending over him, listening eagerly, as one might
+listen to the voice of an old, familiar friend, heard again after many
+years.</p>
+
+<p>He did not speak. He seemed afraid to dispel the other's dream. But
+after a moment, the man in his arms made a sudden, impulsive movement
+towards him. It was almost like a gesture of affection. And their eyes
+met.</p>
+
+<p>There followed a brief silence that had in it something of strain. Then
+Ford uttered a shaky laugh. The vision had passed.</p>
+
+<p>"So&mdash;you see&mdash;he had to die&mdash;anyhow," he said. "My love to&mdash;your wife,
+dear old Monty! Tell her&mdash;I'm&mdash;awfully&mdash;pleased!"</p>
+
+<p>His voice ceased, yet for a moment his lips still seemed to form words.</p>
+
+<p>Durant stooped lower over him, and spoke at last with a sort of urgent
+tenderness.</p>
+
+<p>"Leo!" he said. "Leo, old chap!"</p>
+
+<p>But there came no answer save a faint, still smile. The man he called
+had passed beyond his reach.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Relief came to the beleaguered force at daybreak, and the worst incident
+of the campaign ended without disaster. A casualty list, published in
+the London papers a few days later, contained an announcement, which
+concerned nobody who read it, to the effect that Private Ford, of a West
+African Regiment, had succumbed to his wounds.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Friend" id="The_Friend"></a>The Friend Who Stood By</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>"And you will come back, Jim? Promise! Promise!"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, darling&mdash;of course! There! Don't cry! Can't you see it's a
+chance in a thousand? I've never had such a chance before."</p>
+
+<p>The sound of a woman's low sobbing was audible in the silence that
+followed; and a man who was leaning on the sea-wall above, started and
+peered downwards.</p>
+
+<p>He could dimly discern two figures standing in the shadow of a great
+breakwater below him. More than that he could not distinguish, for it
+was a dark night; but he knew that the man's arms were about the girl,
+and that her face was hidden against him.</p>
+
+<p>Realising himself to be an intruder, he stood up and began to walk away.</p>
+
+<p>He had not gone a dozen yards before the sound of flying feet caught his
+attention, and he turned his head. A woman's light figure was running
+behind him along the deserted parade. He waited for her under a
+gas-lamp.</p>
+
+<p>She overtook him and fled past him without a pause. He caught a glimpse
+of a pale face and fair hair in wild disorder.</p>
+
+<p>Then she was gone again into the night, running swiftly. The darkness
+closed about her, and hid her from view.</p>
+
+<p>The man on the parade paused for several seconds, then walked back to
+his original resting-place by the sea-wall.</p>
+
+<p>The band on the pier was playing a jaunty selection from a comic opera.
+It came in gusts of gaiety. The wash of the sea, as it crept up the
+beach, was very mysterious and remote.</p>
+
+<p>Below, on the piled shingle, a man stood alone, staring out over the
+darkness, motionless and absorbed.</p>
+
+<p>The watcher above him struck a match at length and kindled a cigarette.
+His face was lit up during the operation. It was the face of a man who
+had seen a good deal of the world and had not found the experience
+particularly refreshing. Yet, as he looked down upon the silent figure
+below him, there was more of compassion than cynicism in his eyes. There
+was a glint of humour also, like the shrewd half-melancholy humour of a
+monkey that possesses the wisdom of all the ages, and can impart none of
+it.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there was a movement on the shingle. The lonely figure had
+turned and flung itself face downwards among the tumbling stones. The
+abandonment of the action was very young, and perhaps it was that very
+fact that made it so indescribably pathetic. To Lester Cheveril, leaning
+on the sea-wall, it appealed as strongly as the crying of a child. He
+glanced over his shoulder. The place was deserted. Then he deliberately
+dropped his cigarette-case over the wall and exclaimed: "Confound it!"</p>
+
+<p>The prone figure on the shingle rolled over and sat up.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo!" said Cheveril.</p>
+
+<p>There was a distinct pause before a voice replied: "Hullo! What's the
+matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've dropped my cigarette-case," said Cheveril. "Beastly careless of
+me!"</p>
+
+<p>Again there was a pause. Then the man below him stumbled to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got a match," he said. "I'll see if I can find it."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't trouble," said Cheveril politely. "The steps are close by."</p>
+
+<p>He walked away at an easy pace and descended to the beach. The flicker
+of a match guided him to the searcher. As he drew near, the light went
+out, and the young man turned to meet him.</p>
+
+<p>"Here it is," he said gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>"Many thanks!" said Cheveril. "It's so confoundedly dark to-night. I
+scarcely expected to see it again."</p>
+
+<p>The other muttered an acknowledgment, and stood prepared to depart.</p>
+
+<p>Cheveril, however, paused in a conversational attitude. He had not
+risked his property for nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"A pretty little place, this," he said. "I suppose you are a visitor
+here like myself?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm leaving to-morrow," was the somewhat grudging rejoinder.</p>
+
+<p>"I only came this afternoon," said Cheveril. "Is there anything to see
+here?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's the sea and the lighthouse," his companion told him
+curtly&mdash;"nothing else."</p>
+
+<p>Cheveril smiled faintly to himself in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"Try one of these cigarettes," he said sociably. "I don't enjoy smoking
+alone."</p>
+
+<p>He was aware, as his unknown friend accepted the offer, that he would
+have infinitely preferred to refuse.</p>
+
+<p>"Been here long?" he asked him, as they plunged through the shingle
+towards the sand.</p>
+
+<p>"I've lived here nearly all my life," was the reply. And, after a
+moment, as if the confidence would not be repressed: "I'm leaving
+now&mdash;for good."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" said Cheveril sympathetically. "It's pretty beastly when you come
+to turn out. I've done it, and I know."</p>
+
+<p>"It's infernal," said the other gloomily, and relapsed into silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Going abroad?" Cheveril ventured presently.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Going to the other side of the world." Surliness had given place
+to depression in the boy's voice. Sympathy, albeit from an unknown
+quarter, moved him to confidence. "But it isn't that I mind," he said, a
+moment later. "I should be ready enough to clear out if it weren't
+for&mdash;some one else!"</p>
+
+<p>"A woman, I suppose?" Cheveril said.</p>
+
+<p>He was aware that his companion glanced at him sharply through the
+gloom, and knew that he was momentarily suspected of eavesdropping.</p>
+
+<p>Then, with impulsive candour, the answer came:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; the girl I'm engaged to. She has got to stay behind and
+marry&mdash;some one else."</p>
+
+<p>Cheveril's teeth closed silently upon his lower lip. This, also, was one
+of the things he knew.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't trust her, then?" he said, after a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, she cares for me&mdash;of course!" the boy answered. "But there isn't a
+chance for us. They are all dead against me, and the other fellow will
+be on the spot. He hasn't asked her yet, but he means to. And her people
+will simply force her to accept him when he does. Of course they will!
+He is Cheveril, the millionaire. You must have heard of him. Every one
+has."</p>
+
+<p>"I know him well," said Cheveril.</p>
+
+<p>"So do I&mdash;by sight," the boy plunged on recklessly&mdash;"an undersized
+little animal with a squint."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know he squinted," Cheveril remarked into the darkness. "But,
+anyhow, they can't make her marry against her will."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't they?" returned the other fiercely. "I don't know what you call
+it, then. They can make her life so positively unbearable that she will
+have to give in, if it is only to get away from them. It's perfectly
+fiendish; but they will do it. I know they will do it. She hasn't a
+single friend to stand by her."</p>
+
+<p>"Except you," said Cheveril.</p>
+
+<p>They had nearly reached the water. The rush and splash of the waves held
+something solemn in their harmonies, like the chords of a splendid
+symphony. Cheveril heard the quick, indignant voice at his side like a
+cry of unrest breaking through.</p>
+
+<p>"What can I do?" it said. "I have never had a chance till now. I have
+just had a berth in India offered to me; but I can't possibly hope to
+support a wife for two years at least. And meanwhile&mdash;meanwhile&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>It stopped there; and a long wave broke with a roar, and rushed up in
+gleaming foam almost to their feet. The younger man stepped back; but
+Cheveril remained motionless, his face to the swirling water.</p>
+
+<p>Quite suddenly at length he turned, as a man whose mind is made up, and
+began to walk back to the dimly lighted parade. He marched straight up
+the shingle, as if with a definite purpose in view, and mounted the
+rickety iron ladder to the pavement.</p>
+
+<p>His companion followed, too absorbed by his trouble to feel any
+curiosity regarding the stranger to whom he had poured it out.</p>
+
+<p>Under a flaring gas-lamp, Cheveril stood still.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mind telling me your name?" he said abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>That roused the boy slightly. "My name is Willowby," he answered&mdash;"James
+Willowby."</p>
+
+<p>He looked at Cheveril with a dawning wonder, and the latter uttered a
+short, grim laugh. The light streamed full upon his face.</p>
+
+<p>"You know me well, don't you," he said, "by sight?"</p>
+
+<p>Young Willowby gave a great start and turned crimson. He offered neither
+apology nor excuse.</p>
+
+<p>"I like you for that," Cheveril said, after a moment. "Can you bring
+yourself to shake hands?"</p>
+
+<p>There was unmistakable friendliness in his tone, and Willowby responded
+to it promptly. He was a sportsman at heart, however he might rail at
+circumstance.</p>
+
+<p>As their hands met, he looked up with a queer, mirthless smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you are going to be good to her," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to be good to you both," said Lester Cheveril quietly.</p>
+
+<p>In the silence that followed his words, the band on the pier became
+audible on a sudden gust of wind. It was gaily jigging out the tune of
+"The Girl I Left Behind Me."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"What a secluded corner, Miss Harford! May I join you?"</p>
+
+<p>Evelyn Harford looked up with a start of dismay. He was the last person
+in the world with whom she desired a <i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i>; but he was dining at
+her father's house, and she could not well refuse. Reluctantly she laid
+aside the paper on her knee.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you were playing bridge," she said, in a chilly tone.</p>
+
+<p>"I cried off," said Cheveril.</p>
+
+<p>He stood looking down at her with shrewd, kindly eyes. But the girl was
+too intent upon making her escape to notice his expression.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you go to the billiard-room?" she said. "They are playing pool."</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I came here expressly to talk to you," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" said Evelyn.</p>
+
+<p>She leaned back in her chair, and tried to appear at her ease; but her
+heart was thumping tumultuously. The man was going to propose, she
+knew&mdash;she knew; and she was not ready for him. She felt that she would
+break down ignominiously if he pressed his suit just then.</p>
+
+<p>Cheveril, however, seemed in no hurry. He sat down facing her, and there
+followed a pause, during which she felt that he was studying her
+attentively.</p>
+
+<p>Growing desperate at length, she looked him in the face, and spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not a very lively companion to-night, Mr. Cheveril," she said.
+"That is why I came away from the rest."</p>
+
+<p>There was more of appeal in her voice than she intended; and, realising
+it, she coloured deeply, and looked away again. He was just the sort of
+man to avail himself of a moment's weakness, she told herself, with
+rising agitation. Those shrewd eyes of his missed nothing.</p>
+
+<p>But Cheveril gave no sign of having observed her distress. He maintained
+his silence for some seconds longer. Then, somewhat abruptly, he broke
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't follow you in order to be amused, Miss Harford," he said. "The
+fact is, I have a confession to make to you, and a favour to ask. And I
+want you to be good enough to hear me out before you try to answer. May
+I count on this?"</p>
+
+<p>The dry query did more to quiet her perturbation than any solicitude.
+She was quite convinced that he meant to propose to her, but his absence
+of ardour was an immense relief. If he would only be businesslike and
+not sentimental, she felt that she could bear it.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I will listen," she said, facing him with more self-possession
+than she had been able to muster till that moment. "But I shall want a
+fair hearing, too&mdash;afterwards."</p>
+
+<p>A faint smile flickered across Cheveril's face.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall want to listen to you," he said. "The confession is this: Last
+night I went down to the parade to smoke. It was very dark. I don't know
+exactly what attracted me. I came upon two people saying good-bye on the
+beach. One of them&mdash;a woman&mdash;was crying."</p>
+
+<p>He paused momentarily. The girl's face had frozen into set lines of
+composure. It looked like a marble mask. Her eyes met his with an
+assumption of indifference that scarcely veiled the desperate defiance
+behind.</p>
+
+<p>"When does the confession begin?" she asked him, with a faint laugh that
+sounded tragic in spite of her.</p>
+
+<p>He leaned forward, scrutinising her with a wisdom that seemed to pierce
+every barrier of conventionality and search her very soul.</p>
+
+<p>"It begins now," he said. "She came up on to the parade immediately
+after, and I waited under a lamp to get a glimpse of her. I saw her
+face, Miss Harford. I knew her instantly." The girl's eyes flickered a
+little, and she bit her lip. She was about to speak, but he stopped her
+with sudden authority. "No, don't answer!" he said. "Hear me out. I
+waited till she was gone, and then I joined the young fellow on the
+beach. He was in the mood for a sympathetic listener, and I drew him
+out. He told me practically everything&mdash;how he himself was going to
+India and had to leave the girl behind, how her people disapproved of
+him, and how she was being worked upon by means little short of
+persecution to induce her to marry an outsider on the wrong side of
+forty, with nothing to recommend him but the size of his banking
+account. He added that she had not a single friend to stand by and make
+things easier for her. It was that, Miss Harford, that decided me to
+take this step. I can't see a woman driven against her will; anything in
+the world sooner than that. And here comes my request. You want a friend
+to help you. Let me be that friend. There is a way out of this
+difficulty if you will but take it. Since I got you into it, it is only
+fair that I should be the one to help you out. This is not a proposal of
+marriage, though it may sound like one."</p>
+
+<p>He ended with a smile that was perfectly friendly and kind.</p>
+
+<p>The rigid look had completely passed from the girl's face. She was
+listening with a curious blend of eagerness and reluctance. Her cheeks
+were burning; her eyes like stars.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so thankful to hear you say that," she said, drawing a deep
+breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I go on?" said Cheveril.</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated; and very quietly he held out his hand to her.</p>
+
+<p>"In the capacity of a friend," he said gravely.</p>
+
+<p>And Evelyn Harford put her hand into his with the confidence of a child.
+It was strange to feel her prejudice against this man evaporate at a
+touch. It made her oddly unsure of herself. He was the last person in
+the world to whom she would have voluntarily turned for help.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be startled by what I am going to say," Cheveril said. "It may
+strike you as an eccentric suggestion, but there is nothing in it to
+alarm you. Young Willowby tells me that it will take him two years to
+make a home for you, and meanwhile your life is to be made a martyrdom
+on my account. Will you put your freedom in my hands for that two years?
+In other words, will you consider yourself engaged to me for just so
+long as his absence lasts? It will save you endless trouble and
+discomfort, and harm no one. When Willowby comes back, I shall hand you
+over to him, and your happiness will be secured. Think it over, and
+don't be scared. You will find me quite easy to manage. In any case, I
+am a friend you can trust, remember, even though I have got the face of
+a baboon."</p>
+
+<p>So, with absolute quietness, he made his proposal; and Evelyn, amazed
+and incredulous, heard him out in silence. At his last words she gave a
+quick laugh that sounded almost hysterical.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't," she said&mdash;"don't! You make me feel so ashamed."</p>
+
+<p>Cheveril's face was suddenly quizzical.</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing to be ashamed of," he said. "I take all the
+responsibility, and it would give me very great pleasure to help you."</p>
+
+<p>"But I couldn't do such a thing!" she protested. "I couldn't!"</p>
+
+<p>"Listen!" said Cheveril. "I am off for a yachting trip in the Pacific in
+a week, and I give you my word of honour not to return for nine months,
+at least. Will that make it easier for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not thinking of myself," she told him, with vehemence. "Of course,
+it would make everything right for me, so long as Jim knew. But I must
+think of you, too. I must&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't," Cheveril said gently; "you needn't. I have asked to be
+allowed to stand by you, to have the great privilege of calling myself
+your friend in need. I am romantic enough to like to see a love affair
+go the right way. It is for my pleasure, if you care to regard it from
+that point of view." He paused, and into his eyes there came a queer,
+watchful expression&mdash;the look of a man who hazards much, yet holds
+himself in check. Then he smiled at her with baffling humour.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't refuse me my opportunity, Miss Harford," he said. "I know I am
+eccentric, but I assure you I can be a staunch friend to those I like."</p>
+
+<p>Evelyn had risen, and as he ended he also got to his feet. He knew that
+she was studying him with all her woman's keenness of perception. But
+the game was in his hands, and he realised it. He was no longer afraid
+of the issue.</p>
+
+<p>"You offer me this out of friendship?" she said at last.</p>
+
+<p>He watched her fingers nervously playing with a bracelet on her wrist.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes met his resolutely.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Cheveril," she said (and though she spoke quietly, it was with an
+effort), "I want you, please, to answer just one question. You have been
+shown all the cards; but there must&mdash;there shall be&mdash;fair play, in spite
+of it."</p>
+
+<p>Her voice rang a little. The bracelet suddenly slipped from her hand and
+fell to the floor. Cheveril stooped and picked it up. He held it as he
+made reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said, "I like fair play, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will tell me the truth?" she said, holding out her hand for
+her property. "I want to know if&mdash;if you were really going to ask me to
+marry you before this happened?"</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her with raised eyebrows. Then he took the extended hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I was!" he said simply. She drew back a little, but Cheveril
+showed no discomfiture. "You see, I'm getting on in life," he said, in a
+patriarchal tone. "No doubt it was rank presumption on my part to
+imagine myself in any way suited to you; but I thought it would be nice
+to have a young wife to look after me. And you know the proverb about
+'an old man's darling.' I believe I rather counted on that."</p>
+
+<p>Again he looked quizzical; but the girl was not satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>"That's ridiculous!" she said. "You talk as if you were fifty years
+older than you are. It may be funny, but it isn't strictly honest."</p>
+
+<p>Cheveril laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"I know what you mean," he said. "But really I'm not being funny. And I
+am telling you the simple truth when I say that all sentimental nonsense
+was knocked out of me long ago, when the girl I cared for ran away with
+a good-looking beast in the Army. Also, I am quite honest when I assure
+you that I would rather be your trusted friend and accomplice than your
+rejected suitor. By Jove, I seem to be asking a good deal of you!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, don't laugh," she said quickly, almost as if something in his
+careless speech had pained her. "We must look at the matter from every
+stand-point before&mdash;before we take any action. Suppose you really did
+want to marry some one? Suppose you fell in love again? What then?"</p>
+
+<p>"What then?" said Cheveril. And, though he was obligingly serious, she
+felt that somehow, somewhere, he was tricking her. "I should have to ask
+you to release me in that event. But I don't think it's very likely that
+will happen. I'm not so impressionable as I was."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him doubtfully. Obviously he was not in love with her, yet
+she was uneasy. She had a curious sense of loss, of disappointment,
+which even Jim's departure had not created in her.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't feel that I am doing right," she said finally.</p>
+
+<p>"I am quite unscrupulous," said Cheveril lightly. "Moreover, there is no
+harm to any one in the transaction. Your life is your own. No one else
+has the right to order it for you. It seems to me that in this matter
+you need to consider yourself alone."</p>
+
+<p>"And you," she said, in a troubled tone.</p>
+
+<p>He surprised her an instant later by thrusting a friendly hand through
+her arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Come!" he said, smiling down at her. "Let us go and announce the good
+news!"</p>
+
+<p>And so she yielded to him, and went.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The news of Evelyn Harford's engagement to Lester Cheveril was no great
+surprise to any one. It leaked out through private sources, it being
+understood that no public announcement was to be made till the marriage
+should be imminent. And as Cheveril had departed in his yacht to the
+Pacific very shortly after his proposal, there seemed small likelihood
+of the union taking place that year.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, her long battle over, Evelyn prepared herself to enjoy her
+hard-earned peace. Her father no longer poured hurricanes of wrath upon
+her for her obduracy. Her mother's bitter reproaches had wholly ceased.
+The home atmosphere had become suddenly calm and sunny. The eldest
+daughter of the house had done her obvious duty, and the family was no
+longer shaken and upset by internal tumult.</p>
+
+<p>But the peace was only on the surface so far as Evelyn was concerned.
+Privately, she was less at peace than she had ever been, and that not on
+her own account or on Jim Willowby's. Every letter she received from the
+man who had taken her part against himself stirred afresh in her a keen
+self-reproach and sense of shame. He wrote to her from every port he
+touched, brief, friendly epistles that she might have shown to all the
+world, but which she locked away secretly, and read only in solitude.
+Her letters to him were even briefer, and she never guessed how Cheveril
+cherished those scanty favours.</p>
+
+<p>So through all that summer they kept up the farce. In the autumn Evelyn
+went to pay a round of visits at various country-houses, and it was
+while staying from home that a letter from Jim Willowby reached her.</p>
+
+<p>He wrote in apparently excellent spirits. He had had an extraordinary
+piece of luck, he said, and had been offered a very good post in Burmah.
+If she would consent to go out to him, they could be married at once.</p>
+
+<p>That letter Evelyn read during a solitary ramble over a wide Yorkshire
+moor, and when she looked up from the boy's signature her expression was
+hunted, even tragic.</p>
+
+<p>Jim had carefully considered ways and means. The thing she had longed
+for was within her grasp. All she had ever asked for herself was flung
+to her without stint.</p>
+
+<p>But&mdash;what had happened to her? she wondered vaguely&mdash;she realised it all
+fully, completely, yet with no thrill of gladness. Something subtly
+potent seemed wound about her heart, holding her back; something that
+was stronger far than the thought of Jim was calling to her, crying
+aloud across the barren deserts of her soul. And in that moment she knew
+that her marriage with Jim had become a final impossibility, and that it
+was imperative upon her to write at once and tell him so.</p>
+
+<p>She walked miles that day, and returned at length utterly wearied in
+body and mind. She was facing the hardest problem of her life.</p>
+
+<p>Not till after midnight was her letter to Jim finished, and even then
+she could not rest. Had she utterly ruined the boy's life? she wondered,
+as she sealed and directed her crude, piteous appeal for freedom.</p>
+
+<p>When the morning light came grey through her window she was still poring
+above a blank sheet of notepaper.</p>
+
+<p>This eventually carried but one sentence, addressed to the friend who
+had stood by her in trouble; and later in the day she sent it by cable
+to the other side of the world. The message ran: "Please cancel
+engagement.&mdash;Evelyn." His answering cable was brought to her at the
+dinner-table. Two words only&mdash;"Delighted.&mdash;Lester."</p>
+
+<p>Out of a mist of floating uncertainty she saw her host bend towards her.</p>
+
+<p>"All well, I trust?" he said kindly.</p>
+
+<p>And she made a desperate effort to control her weakness and reply
+naturally.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, quite, quite," she said. "It is exactly what I expected."
+Nevertheless, she was trembling from head to foot, as if she had been
+dealt a stunning blow.</p>
+
+<p>Had she altogether expected so prompt and obliging a reply?</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Some weeks later, on an afternoon of bleak, early spring, Evelyn
+wandered alone on the shore where she had bidden Jim Willowby farewell.
+It was raining, and the sea was grey and desolate. The tide was coming
+in with a fierce roaring that seemed to fill the whole world.</p>
+
+<p>She had a letter from Jim in her hand&mdash;his answer to her appeal for
+freedom; and she had sought the solitude of the shore in which to read
+it.</p>
+
+<p>She took shelter from the howling sea-wind behind a great boulder of
+rock. She dreaded his reproaches unspeakably. For the past six weeks she
+had lived in dread of that moment. Her fingers were shaking as she
+opened the envelope that bore his boyish scrawl.</p>
+
+<p>An enclosure fell out before she had withdrawn his letter. She caught it
+up hastily before the wind could take possession. It was an unmounted
+photograph&mdash;actually the portrait of a girl.</p>
+
+<p>Evelyn stared at the roguish, laughing face with a great amazement.
+Then, with a haste that baffled its own ends, she sought his letter.</p>
+
+<p>It began with astounding jauntiness:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Old Eve</span>,&mdash;What a pair of superhuman idiots we have
+been! Many thanks for your sweet letter, which did me no end of
+good. I never loved you so much before, dear. Can you believe it? I
+am not surprised that you feel unequal to the task of keeping me in
+order for the rest of our natural lives. Will it surprise you to
+know that I had my doubts on the matter even when I wrote to
+suggest it? Never mind, dear old girl, I understand. And may the
+right man turn up soon and make you happy for the rest of your
+life!</p>
+
+<p>"I am sending a photograph of a girl who till three weeks ago was
+no more than a friend to me, but has since become my <i>fianc&eacute;e</i>.
+Love is a wonderful thing, Eve. It comes upon you so suddenly and
+carries you away before you have time to realise what has happened.
+At least that has been my experience. There is no mistaking the
+real thing when it actually comes to you.</p>
+
+<p>"I am getting on awfully well, and like the life. By the way, it
+was through your friend, Lester Cheveril, that I got this
+appointment. A jolly decent chap that! I liked him from the first.
+It isn't every man who will stand being told he squints without
+taking offence. We are hoping to get married next month.
+Write&mdash;won't you?&mdash;and send me your blessing. Much love&mdash;Yours
+ever,</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">James Willowby.</span>"</p></div>
+
+<p>Evelyn looked up from the letter with a deep breath of relief. It was so
+amazingly satisfactory. She almost forgot the emptiness of her own life
+for the moment in her rejoicing over Jim's happiness.</p>
+
+<p>There was a little puddle of sea-water at her feet; and she climbed up
+to a comfortable perch on her sheltering rock and turned her face to the
+sea. Somehow, it did not seem so desolate as it had seemed five minutes
+before. This particular seat was a favourite haunt of hers in the
+summer. She loved to watch the tide come foaming up, and to feel the
+salt spray in her face.</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes later, a great wave came hurling at the rock on which she
+sat, and, breaking in a torrent of foam, deluged her from head to foot.</p>
+
+<p>She started up in swift alarm. The tide was coming in fast&mdash;much faster
+than she had anticipated. The shore curved inwards in a deep bay just
+there, and the cliffs rose sheer and unscalable from it to a
+considerable height.</p>
+
+<p>Evelyn seldom went down to the shore in the winter, and she was not
+familiar with its dangers. The sea had seemed far enough out for safety
+when she had rounded the point nearest to the town, barely half an hour
+before. It was with almost incredulous horror that she saw that the
+waves were already breaking at the foot of the cliffs she had skirted.</p>
+
+<p>She turned with a sudden, awful fear at her heart to look towards the
+farther point. It was a full mile away, and she saw instantly that she
+could not possibly reach it in time. The waves were already foaming
+white among the scattered boulders at its base.</p>
+
+<p>Again a great wave broke behind her with a sound like the booming of a
+gun; and she realised that she would be surrounded in less than thirty
+seconds if she remained where she was. She slipped and slid down the
+side of the rock with the speed of terror, and plunged recklessly into a
+foot of water at the bottom. Before another wave broke she was dashing
+and stumbling among the rocks like a frenzied creature seeking safety
+from the remorseless, devouring monster that roared behind her.</p>
+
+<p>The next five minutes of her life held for her an agony more terrible
+than anything she had ever known. Sea, sky, wind, and sudden pelting
+rain seemed leagued against her in a monstrous array against which she
+battled vainly with her puny woman's strength. The horror of it was like
+a leaden, paralysing weight. She fought and struggled because instinct
+compelled her; but at her heart was the awful knowledge that the sea had
+claimed her and she could not possibly escape.</p>
+
+<p>She made for the farther point of the bay, though she knew she could not
+reach it in time. The loose shingle crumbled about her feet; the seaweed
+trapped her everywhere. She fell a dozen times in that awful race, and
+each time she rose in agony and tore on. The tumult all about her was
+like the laughter of fiends. She felt as if hell had opened its mouth,
+and she, poor soul, was its easy prey.</p>
+
+<p>There came a moment at last when she tripped and fell headlong, and
+could not rise again. That moment was the culmination of her anguish.
+Neither soul nor body could endure more. Darkness&mdash;a howling, unholy
+darkness&mdash;came down upon her in a thick cloud from which there was no
+escape. She made a futile, convulsive effort to pray, and lost
+consciousness in the act.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Out of the darkness at length she came.</p>
+
+<p>The tumult was still audible, but it was farther away, less
+overwhelming. She opened her eyes in a strange, unnatural twilight, and
+stared vaguely upwards.</p>
+
+<p>At the same instant she became aware of some one at her side, bending
+over her&mdash;a man whose face, revealed to her in the dim light, sent a
+throb of wonder through her heart.</p>
+
+<p>"You!" she said, speaking with a great effort. "Is it really you?"</p>
+
+<p>He was rubbing one of her hands between his own. He paused to answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; it's really me," he said. And she fancied his voice quivered a
+little. "They told me I might perhaps find you on the shore. Are you
+better?"</p>
+
+<p>She tried to sit up, and he helped her, keeping his arm about her
+shoulders. She found herself lying on a ledge of rock high up in the
+slanting wall of a deep and narrow cave. She knew the place well, and
+had always avoided it with instinctive aversion. It was horribly eerie.
+The rocky walls were wet with the ooze and slime of the ages. There was
+a trickle of spring-water along the ridged floor.</p>
+
+<p>Evelyn closed her eyes dizzily. The marvel of the man's presence was
+still upon her, but the horror of death haunted her also. She would
+rather have been drowned outside on the howling shore than here.</p>
+
+<p>"The sea comes in at high tide," she murmured shakily.</p>
+
+<p>Lester Cheveril, crouching beside her, made undaunted reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know. But it won't touch us. Don't be afraid!"</p>
+
+<p>The assurance with which he spoke struck her very forcibly; but
+something held her back from questioning the grounds of his confidence.</p>
+
+<p>"How did you get here?" she asked him instead.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw you from the corner of the bay," he said. "It was before you left
+your rock. I climbed round the point over the boulders. I thought at the
+time that there must be some way up the cliff. Then I saw you start
+running, and I knew you were cut off. I yelled to you, but I couldn't
+make you hear. So I had to give chase."</p>
+
+<p>His arm tightened a little about her.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry you were scared," he said. "Are you feeling better now?"</p>
+
+<p>She could not understand him. He spoke with such entire absence of
+anxiety. In spite of herself her own fears began to subside.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am better," she said. "But&mdash;tell me more. Why didn't you go back
+when you saw what had happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't," he said simply. "Besides, even if they launched the
+lifeboat, the chances were dead against their reaching you. I thought of
+a rope, too. But that seemed equally risky. It was a choice of odds. I
+chose what looked the easiest."</p>
+
+<p>"And carried me here?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>The light, shining weirdly in upon his face, showed her that he was
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't stop to consult you," he said. "I saw this hole, and I made
+for it. I climbed up with you across my shoulder."</p>
+
+<p>"You are wonderfully strong," she said, in a tone of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>He laughed openly.</p>
+
+<p>"Notwithstanding my size," he said. "Yes; I'm fairly muscular, thank
+Heaven."</p>
+
+<p>Evelyn's mind was still working round the problem of deliverance.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall have to stay here for hours," she said, "even if&mdash;if&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He interrupted her with grave authority.</p>
+
+<p>"There is no 'if,' Miss Harford," he said. "We may have to spend some
+hours here; but it will be in safety."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see how you can tell," she ventured to remark, beginning to
+look around her with greater composure notwithstanding.</p>
+
+<p>"Providence doesn't play practical jokes of that sort," said Cheveril
+quietly. "Do you know I have come from the other end of the earth to see
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>She felt the burning colour rush up to her temples, yet she made a
+determined effort to look him in the face. His eyes, keen and kindly,
+were searching hers, and she found she could not meet them.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I don't know what brought you," she said, in a very low voice.</p>
+
+<p>She felt the arm that supported her grow rigid, and guessed that he was
+putting force upon himself as he made reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me explain," he said. "You sent me a cablegram which said, 'Please
+cancel engagement.' Naturally that had but one meaning for me&mdash;you and
+Jim Willowby had got the better of your difficulties, and were going to
+be married. In the capacity of friend, I received the news with
+rejoicing. So I cabled back 'Delighted.' Soon after that came a letter
+from Jim to tell me you had thrown him over. Now, why?"</p>
+
+<p>She answered him with her head bent:</p>
+
+<p>"I found that I didn't care for him quite in that way."</p>
+
+<p>Cheveril did not speak for several seconds. Then, abruptly, he said:</p>
+
+<p>"There is another fellow in the business."</p>
+
+<p>She made a slight gesture of appeal, and remained silent.</p>
+
+<p>He leaned forward slowly at length, and laid his hand upon both of hers.</p>
+
+<p>"Evelyn," he said very gently, "will you tell me his name?"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head instantly. Her lips were quivering, and she bit them
+desperately.</p>
+
+<p>He waited, but no word came. Outside, the roaring of the sea was
+terrible and insistent. The great sound sent a shudder through the girl.
+She shrank closer to the cold stone.</p>
+
+<p>He pulled off his coat and wrapped it round her. Then, as if she had
+been a child, he drew her gently into his arms, and held her so.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me&mdash;now," he said softly.</p>
+
+<p>But she hid her face dumbly. No words would come.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed a long while before he spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"That cable of yours was a fraud," he said then. "I was not&mdash;I am
+not&mdash;prepared to release you from your engagement except under the
+original condition."</p>
+
+<p>"I think you must," she said faintly.</p>
+
+<p>He sought for her cold hands and thrust them against his neck. And again
+there was a long silence, while outside the sea raged fiercely, and far
+below them in the distance a white streak of foam ran bubbling over the
+rocky floor.</p>
+
+<p>Soon the streak had become a stream of dancing, storm-tossed water.
+Evelyn watched it with wide, fascinated eyes. But she made no sign of
+fear. She felt as if he had, somehow, laid a quieting hand upon her
+soul.</p>
+
+<p>Higher the water rose, and higher. The cave was filled with dreadful
+sound. It was almost dark, for dusk had fallen. She felt that but for
+the man's presence she would have been wild with fear. But his absolute
+confidence wove a spell about her that no terror could penetrate. The
+close holding of his arms was infinitely comforting to her. She knew
+with complete certainty that he was not afraid.</p>
+
+<p>"It's very dark," she whispered to him once; and he pressed her head
+down upon his breast and told her not to look. Through the tumult she
+heard the strong, quiet beating of his heart, and was ashamed of her own
+mortal fear.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to her that hours passed while she crouched there, listening,
+as the water rose and rose. She caught the gleam of it now and then, and
+once her face was wet with spray. She clung closer and closer to her
+companion, but she kept down her panic. She felt that he expected it of
+her, and she would have died there in the dark, sooner than have
+disappointed him.</p>
+
+<p>At last, after an eternity of quiet waiting, he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"The tide has turned," he said. And his tone carried conviction with it.</p>
+
+<p>She raised her head to look.</p>
+
+<p>A dim, silvery light shone mysteriously in revealing the black walls
+above them, the tossing water below. It had been within a foot of their
+resting-place, but it had dropped fully six inches.</p>
+
+<p>Evelyn felt a great throb of relief pass through her. Only then did she
+fully realise how great her fear had been.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that the moon?" she asked wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Cheveril. He spoke in a low voice, even with reverence, she
+thought. "We shall be out of this in an hour. It will light us home."</p>
+
+<p>"How&mdash;wonderful!" she said, half involuntarily.</p>
+
+<p>Cheveril said no more; but the silence that fell between them was the
+silence of that intimacy which only those who have stood together before
+the great threshold of death can know. Many minutes passed before Evelyn
+spoke again, and then her words came slowly, with hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>"You knew?" she said. "You knew that we were safe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he answered quietly; "I knew. God doesn't give with one hand and
+take away with the other. Have you never noticed that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," she answered with a sharp sigh. "He has never given me
+anything very valuable."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite sure?" said Cheveril, and she caught the old quizzical note in
+his voice.</p>
+
+<p>She did not reply. She was trying to understand him in the darkness, and
+she found it a difficult matter.</p>
+
+<p>There followed a long, long silence. The roar of the breaking seas had
+become remote and vague.</p>
+
+<p>But the moonlight was growing brighter. The dark cave was no longer a
+place of horror.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall we go?" Evelyn suggested at last.</p>
+
+<p>He peered downwards.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we might," he said. "No doubt your people will be very anxious
+about you."</p>
+
+<p>They climbed down with difficulty, till they finally stood together on
+the wet stones.</p>
+
+<p>And there Cheveril reached out a hand and detained the girl beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"That other fellow?" he said, in his quiet, half-humorous voice. "You
+didn't tell me his name."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, please!" she said tremulously.</p>
+
+<p>He took her hands gently into his, and stood facing her. The moonlight
+was full in his eyes. They shone with a strange intensity.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you remember," he said, "how I once said to you that I was romantic
+enough to like to see a love affair go the right way?"</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer him. She was trembling in his hold.</p>
+
+<p>He waited for a few seconds; then spoke, still kindly, but with a force
+that in a measure compelled her:</p>
+
+<p>"That is why I want you to tell me his name."</p>
+
+<p>She turned her face aside.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I can't!" she said piteously.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I hold you to your engagement," said Lester Cheveril, with quiet
+determination.</p>
+
+<p>Her hands leapt in his. She threw him a quick uncertain glance.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't mean that!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I do mean it," he rejoined resolutely.</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but&mdash;" she faltered. "You don't really want to marry me? You
+can't!"</p>
+
+<p>He looked grimly at her for a moment. Then abruptly he broke into a
+laugh that rang and echoed exultantly in the deep shadows behind them.</p>
+
+<p>"I want it more than anything else on earth," he said. "Does that
+satisfy you?"</p>
+
+<p>His face was close to hers, but she felt no desire to escape. That laugh
+of his was still ringing like sweetest music through her soul.</p>
+
+<p>He took her shoulders between his hands, searching her face closely.</p>
+
+<p>"And now," he said&mdash;"now tell me his name!"</p>
+
+<p>Yet a moment longer she withstood him. Then she yielded, and went into
+his arms, laughing also&mdash;a broken, tearful laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"His name is&mdash;Lester Cheveril," she whispered. "But I&mdash;I can't think how
+you guessed."</p>
+
+<p>He answered her as he turned her face upwards to meet his own.</p>
+
+<p>"The friend who stands by sees many things," he said wisely. "And Love
+is not always blind."</p>
+
+<p>"But you&mdash;you weren't in love," she protested. "Not when&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He interrupted her instantly and convincingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I have always loved you," he said.</p>
+
+<p>And she believed him, because her own heart told her that he had spoken
+the truth.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Right_Man" id="The_Right_Man"></a>The Right Man</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+
+<p>"He hasn't proposed, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; he hasn't." A pause; then, reluctantly: "I haven't given him the
+opportunity."</p>
+
+<p>"Violet! Do you want to starve?"</p>
+
+<p>The speaker turned in his chair, and looked at the girl bending over the
+fire, with a quick, impatient frown on his handsome face. They were
+twins, these two, the only representatives of a family that had been
+wealthy three generations before them, but whose resources had dwindled
+steadily under the management of three successive spendthrifts, and had
+finally disappeared altogether in a desperate speculation which had
+promised to restore everything.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't seem to realise," the young man said, "that we are absolutely
+penniless&mdash;destitute. Everything is sunk in this Winhalla Railway
+scheme, up to the last penny. It seemed a gorgeous chance at the time.
+It ought to have brought in thousands. It would have done, too, if it
+had been properly supported. But it's no good talking about that. It's
+just a gigantic failure, or, if it ever does succeed, it will come too
+late to help us. Just our infernal luck! And now the question is, what
+is going to be done? You'll have to marry that fellow, Violet. It's
+absolutely the only thing for you to do. And I&mdash;I suppose I must
+emigrate."</p>
+
+<p>The girl did not turn her head. There was something tense about her
+attitude.</p>
+
+<p>"I could emigrate too, Jerry," she said, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"You!" Her brother turned more fully round. "You!" he said again. "Are
+you mad, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>She made a slight gesture of protest.</p>
+
+<p>"Why shouldn't I?" she said. "At least, we should be together."</p>
+
+<p>He uttered a grim laugh, and rose.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Violet," he said, and took her lightly by the shoulders.
+"Don't be a little fool! You know as well as I do that you weren't made
+to rough it. The suggestion is so absurd that it isn't worth discussion.
+You'll have to marry Kenyon. It's as plain as daylight; and I only wish
+my perplexities were as easily solved. Come! He isn't such a bad sort;
+and, anyhow, he's better than starvation."</p>
+
+<p>The girl stood up slowly and faced him. Her eyes were wild, like the
+eyes of a hunted creature.</p>
+
+<p>"I hate him, Jerry! I hate him!" she declared vehemently.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" said Jerry. "He's no worse than a hundred others. You'd hate
+any one under these abominable circumstances!"</p>
+
+<p>She shuddered, as if in confirmation of this statement.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd rather do anything," she said; "anything, down to selling matches
+in the gutter."</p>
+
+<p>"Which isn't a practical point of view," pointed out Jerry. "You would
+get pneumonia with the first east wind, and die."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, I'd rather die." The girl's voice trembled with the
+intensity of her preference. But her brother frowned again at the words.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't!" he said abruptly. "For Heaven's sake, don't be unreasonable!
+Can't you see that it's my greatest worry to get you provided for? You
+must marry. You can't live on charity."</p>
+
+<p>Her cheeks flamed.</p>
+
+<p>"But I can work," she began. "I can&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He interrupted her impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't. You haven't the strength, and probably not the ability
+either. It's no use talking this sort of rot. It's simply silly, and
+makes things worse for both of us. It's all very well to say you'd
+rather starve, but when it comes to starving, as it will&mdash;as it
+must&mdash;you'll think differently. Look here, old girl: if you won't marry
+this fellow for your own sake, do it for mine. I hate it just as much as
+you do. But it's bearable, at least. And&mdash;there are some things I can't
+bear."</p>
+
+<p>He stopped. She was clinging to him closely, beseechingly; but he stood
+firm and unyielding, his young face set in hard lines.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you do it?" he said, as she did not speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Jerry!" she said imploringly.</p>
+
+<p>He stiffened to meet the appeal he dreaded. But it did not come. Her
+eyes were raised to his, and she seemed to read there the futility of
+argument. She remained absolutely still for some seconds, then abruptly
+she turned from him and burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't! don't!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>He stepped close to her, as she leaned upon the mantelpiece, all the
+hardness gone from his face. Had she known it, the battle at that moment
+might have been hers; for he would have insisted no longer. He was on
+the brink of abandoning the conflict. But her anguish of weeping
+possessed her to the exclusion of everything else.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jerry, go away!" she sobbed passionately. "You're a perfect beast,
+and I'm another! But I'll do it, I'll do it&mdash;for your sake, as I would
+do anything in the world, though it's quite true that I'd rather
+starve!"</p>
+
+<p>And Jerry, rather pale, but otherwise complete master of himself, patted
+her shoulder with a hasty assumption of kindly approval; and told her
+that he had always known she was a brick.</p>
+
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<p>"Heaven knows I don't aspire to be any particular ornament to society,"
+said Dick Kenyon modestly. "Never have; though I've been pretty well
+everything else that you can think of, from cow-puncher to millionaire.
+And I can tell you there's a dashed deal more fun in being the first
+than the last of those. Still, I think I could make you comfortable if
+you would have me; though, if you don't want to, just say so, and I'll
+shunt till further notice."</p>
+
+<p>It was thus that he made his proposal to the girl of his choice; and no
+one, hearing it, would have guessed that beneath his calm, even
+phlegmatic, exterior, the man was in a ferment of anxiety. He spoke with
+a slight nasal twang that seemed to emphasise his deliberation, and his
+face was mask-like in its composure. Of beauty he had none.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes were extraordinarily blue, but the lids drooped over them so
+heavily that his expression was habitually drowsy, even stolid. In
+build, he was short and thick-set, like a bulldog; and there seemed to
+be something of a bulldog's strength in the breadth of his chest, though
+there was no hint of energy about him to warrant its development.</p>
+
+<p>The girl he addressed did not look at him. She sat perfectly still, with
+her hands fast clasped together, and her eyes, wide and despairing,
+fixed upon the fire in front of her. She was wondering desperately how
+long she could possibly endure it. Yet his last words were somehow not
+what she had expected from this man whose manner always seemed to hint
+that at least half of creation was at his sole disposal. They expressed
+a consideration on his part that she had been far from anticipating. He
+waited for an interval of several seconds for her to speak. He was
+standing up on the hearthrug, his ill-proportioned figure thrown into
+strong relief by the firelight behind him. At last, as she quite failed
+to answer him, he drew a pace nearer to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't mind me, Miss Trelevan," he said, in a drawl so exaggerated that
+she thought it must be intentional. "Take your time. There's no hurry.
+I've always thought it was a bit hard on a woman to expect her to answer
+an offer of marriage offhand. Perhaps you'd rather write?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," she said, rather breathlessly. "No!" Then, after a pause, still
+more breathlessly: "Won't you sit down?"</p>
+
+<p>He stepped away from her again, to her infinite relief, and sat down a
+couple of yards away.</p>
+
+<p>There ensued a most painful silence, during which the battle in the
+girl's heart raged fiercely. Then at length she took her resolution in
+both hands, and faced him. He was not looking at her. He sat quite
+still, and she fancied that his eyes were closed; but when she spoke he
+turned his head, and she realised that she had been mistaken.</p>
+
+<p>"I can give you your answer now," she said, making the greatest effort
+of her life. "It is&mdash;it is&mdash;yes."</p>
+
+<p>She rose with the words, almost as if in preparation for headlong
+flight. But Dick Kenyon kept his seat. He leaned forward a little, his
+blue eyes lifted to her face.</p>
+
+<p>"Your final word, Miss Trelevan?" he asked her, in his cool, easy twang.</p>
+
+<p>She wrung her hands together with an unconscious gesture of despair.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said; and added feverishly: "of course."</p>
+
+<p>"You think you've met the right man?" he pursued, his tone one of gentle
+inquiry, as if he were speaking to a child.</p>
+
+<p>She nodded. She was white to the lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said again.</p>
+
+<p>He got up then with extreme deliberation.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said, a curious smile flickering about his mouth, "that's
+about the biggest surprise I've ever had. And I don't mind telling you
+so. Sure now that you're not making a mistake?"</p>
+
+<p>She uttered a little laugh that sounded hysterical.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't!" she said. "Don't! I have given you my answer!"</p>
+
+<p>"And I'm to take you seriously?" questioned Kenyon. "Very well. I will.
+But you mustn't be frightened."</p>
+
+<p>He stretched out a steady hand, and laid it on her shoulder. She
+quivered at his touch, but she did not attempt to resist.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be scared," he said very gently. "I know I'm as ugly as blazes;
+at least, I've been told so, but there's nothing else to alarm you if
+you can once get over that."</p>
+
+<p>There was a note of quaint raillery in his voice. He did not try to draw
+her to him. Yet she was conscious of a strength that did battle with her
+half-instinctive aversion&mdash;a strength that might have compelled, but
+preferred to attract.</p>
+
+<p>Unwillingly, at length, she looked at him, meeting his eyes,
+good-humouredly critical, watching her.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not frightened," she said, with an effort. "It's only that&mdash;just
+at first&mdash;till I get used to it&mdash;it feels rather strange."</p>
+
+<p>There was unconscious pleading in her voice. He took his hand from her
+shoulder, looking at her with his queer, speculative smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to hustle you any," he said. "But if that's all the
+trouble, I guess I know a remedy."</p>
+
+<p>Violet drew back sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no!" she said. "No!"</p>
+
+<p>She was terrified for the moment lest he should desire to put his remedy
+to the test. But he made no movement in her direction, and another sort
+of misgiving assailed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be vexed," she said unsteadily. "I&mdash;I know I'm despicable. But I
+shall get over it&mdash;if you will give me time."</p>
+
+<p>"Bless your heart, I'm not vexed," said Kenyon. "I'm only wondering,
+don't you know, how you brought yourself to say 'Yes' to me. But no
+matter, dear. I'm grateful all the same."</p>
+
+<p>He held out his hand to her, and she laid hers nervously within it. She
+could not meet his eyes any longer.</p>
+
+<p>Kenyon stooped and put his lips to her cold fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"Jove!" he said softly. "I'm in luck to-day."</p>
+
+<p>And after that he sat down again, and began to behave like an ordinary
+visitor.</p>
+
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<p>"Great Scotland!" said Jerry.</p>
+
+<p>He looked up from a letter, and gazed at his sister with starting eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what?" she exclaimed in alarm.</p>
+
+<p>He sprang up impetuously, and went round the table to her. They were
+breakfasting in the tiny flat which was theirs for but three short
+months longer.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess!" he said. "No, don't! I can't wait. It's the family luck, old
+girl, turned at last! It's the original gorgeous chance again with a
+practical dead certainty pushing behind. It's the Winhalla Railway
+turning up trumps just in time."</p>
+
+<p>And, with a whoop that might have been heard from garret to basement,
+Jerry swept his sister from her chair, and waltzed her giddily round the
+little room till she cried breathlessly for mercy.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but do tell me!" she gasped, when he set her down again. "I want to
+understand, Jerry. Don't be so mad. Tell me exactly what has happened!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you," said Jerry, sitting down on the tablecloth. "It's a
+letter from Gardner&mdash;my broker and man of business generally&mdash;written
+last night to tell me that one of these swaggering capitalists has got
+hold of the Winhalla Railway scheme, and is going to make things hum.
+Shares are going up already; and they'll run sky high by the end of the
+week. It's bound to be all right. It was always sound enough. It only
+wanted capital. He doesn't tell me the bounder's name, but that's no
+matter. I don't want to go into partnership. I shall sell, sell, sell,
+at the top of the boom. Gardner's to be trusted. He'll know&mdash;and
+then&mdash;and then&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; what does it mean?" the girl broke in. "I want to know exactly,
+Jerry!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mean?" he echoed, his hands upon her shoulders. "It means emancipation,
+wealth, everything we've lost back again, and more to it! Now do you
+understand?"</p>
+
+<p>She gasped for breath. She had turned very pale.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jerry!" she said tragically. "Jerry, why didn't this happen
+before?"</p>
+
+<p>He stared at her for a moment. Then, as understanding came to him, he
+frowned with swift impatience.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that must be broken off!" he said. "You can't marry that fellow
+now. Why should you?"</p>
+
+<p>Violet shook her head hopelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"I've promised," she said; "promised to marry him at the end of next
+month."</p>
+
+<p>Jerry jumped up impulsively.</p>
+
+<p>"But that's soon arranged," he declared. "Leave it to me. I'll explain."</p>
+
+<p>"How can you?" questioned Violet.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall put it on a purely business footing," he returned airily.
+"Don't you worry yourself. He isn't the sort of chap to take it to
+heart. You know that as well as I do. Perhaps it might be as well to
+wait till the end of the week and make sure of things, though, before I
+say anything."</p>
+
+<p>But at this point Violet gave him the biggest surprise he had ever
+known. She sprang to her feet with flashing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed you won't, Jerry!" she exclaimed. "You will tell him
+to-day&mdash;this morning&mdash;and end it definitely. Never mind what happens
+afterwards. I won't carry the dishonourable bargain to that length. I've
+little enough self-respect left, but what there is of it I'll keep!"</p>
+
+<p>"Heavens above!" ejaculated Jerry, in amazement. "What's the matter now?
+I was only thinking of you, after all."</p>
+
+<p>"I know you were," she answered passionately. "But you're to think of
+something greater than my physical welfare. You're to think of my
+miserable little rag of honour, and do what you can for that, if you
+really want to help me!"</p>
+
+<p>And with that she went quickly from the room and left him to breakfast
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>He marvelled for a little at her agitation, and then the contents of the
+letter absorbed him again. He had better go and see Gardner, he
+reflected; and then, if the thing really seemed secure, he would take
+Dick Kenyon on his way back&mdash;perhaps lunch with him, and explain matters
+in a friendly way. There was certainly nothing for Violet to make a fuss
+about. He was quite fully convinced that the fellow wouldn't care.
+Marriage was a mere incident to men of his stamp.</p>
+
+<p>So, cheerily at length, having disposed of his breakfast, he rose,
+collected his correspondence, which consisted for the most part of
+bills, and, whistling light-heartedly, took his departure.</p>
+
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<p>"Now," said Dick Kenyon, in his easy, self-assured accents, "sit down
+right there, sonny, and tell me what's on your mind."</p>
+
+<p>He pressed Jerry into his most comfortable chair with hospitable force.</p>
+
+<p>Jerry submitted, because he could not help himself, rather than from
+choice. Patronage from Dick Kenyon was something of an offence to his
+ever-ready pride.</p>
+
+<p>As for Dick, he had not apparently the smallest suspicion of any latent
+resentment of this nature in his visitor's mind. He brought out a box of
+choice cigars, and set them at Jerry's elbow. They had just lunched
+together at Kenyon's rooms; and it had been quite obvious to the latter
+that Jerry had been preoccupied throughout the meal.</p>
+
+<p>Having furnished his guest with everything he could think of to ensure
+his comfort, he proceeded deliberately to provide for his own.</p>
+
+<p>Jerry was not quite at his ease. He sat with the unlighted cigar between
+his fingers, considering with bent brows. Kenyon looked at him at last
+with a faint smile.</p>
+
+<p>"If I didn't know it to be an impossibility," he said, "I should say you
+were shying at something."</p>
+
+<p>Jerry turned towards him with an air of resolution.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Kenyon," he said, in his slightly superior tones, "I have
+really come to talk to you about your engagement to my sister."</p>
+
+<p>He paused, aware of a change in Kenyon's expression, but wholly unable
+to discover of what it consisted.</p>
+
+<p>"What about it?" said Kenyon.</p>
+
+<p>He was on his feet, searching the mantelpiece for an ash-tray. His face
+was turned from Jerry, but could he have seen it fully, it would have
+told him nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Jerry went on, with a strong effort to maintain his ease of manner:</p>
+
+<p>"We've been thinking it over, and we have come to the conclusion that
+perhaps, after all, it was a mistake. In short, my sister has thought
+better of it; and, as she is naturally sensitive on the subject, I
+undertook to tell you so, I don't suppose it will make any particular
+difference to you. There are plenty of girls who would jump at the
+chance of marrying your millions. But, of course, if you wish it, some
+compensation could be made."</p>
+
+<p>Jerry paused again. He had placed the matter on the most businesslike
+footing that had occurred to him. Of course, the man must realise that
+he was a rank outsider, and would understand that it was the best
+method.</p>
+
+<p>Kenyon heard him out in dead silence. He had found the ash-tray, but he
+did not turn his head. After several dumb seconds, he walked across the
+room to the window, and stood there. Finally he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't suppose," he said, in his calm, expressionless drawl, "that you
+have ever had a cowhiding in your life, have you?"</p>
+
+<p>"What?" said Jerry.</p>
+
+<p>He stared at Kenyon in frank amazement. Was the man mad?</p>
+
+<p>"Never had a cowhiding in your life, eh?" repeated Kenyon, without
+moving.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" exclaimed Jerry.</p>
+
+<p>Kenyon remained motionless.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean," he said calmly, "that I've thrashed a man to a pulp before now
+for a good deal less than you have just offered me. It's my special
+treatment for curs. Suits 'em wonderfully. And suits me, too."</p>
+
+<p>Jerry sprang to his feet in a whirl of wrath, but before he could utter
+a word Kenyon suddenly turned.</p>
+
+<p>"Go back to your sister," he said, in curt, stern tones, "and tell her
+from me that I will discuss this matter with her alone. If she intends
+to throw me over, she must come to me herself and tell me so. Go now!"</p>
+
+<p>But Jerry stood halting between an open blaze of passion and equally
+open discomfiture. He longed to hurl defiance in Kenyon's face, but some
+hidden force restrained him. There was that about the man at that moment
+which compelled submission. And so, at length, he turned without another
+word, and walked straight from the room with as fine a dignity as he
+could muster. By some remarkable means, Dick Kenyon had managed to get
+the best of the encounter.</p>
+
+
+<h3>V</h3>
+
+<p>Not the next day, nor the next, did Violet Trelevan summon up courage to
+face her outraged lover, and ask for her freedom. Jerry did not tell her
+precisely what had passed, but she gathered from the information he
+vouchsafed that Kenyon had not treated the matter peaceably. She
+wondered a little how Jerry had approached it, and told herself with a
+beating heart that she would have to take her own line of action.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, for a full week she did nothing, and at the end of that
+week the flutter in the Winhalla Railway shares had subsided completely,
+and all Jerry's high hopes were dead. From day to day he had tried to
+console himself and her with the reflection that a speculation of that
+sort was bound to fluctuate, but, in the end, when the shares went down
+to zero, he was forced to own that he had been too sanguine. It had been
+but the last flicker before extinction. The capitalist had evidently
+thought better of risking his money on such a venture.</p>
+
+<p>"And I was a gaping, weak-kneed idiot not to sell for what I could get!"
+he told his sister. "But it's just our luck. I might have known nothing
+decent could ever happen to us!"</p>
+
+<p>It was on that evening, when the outlook was at its blackest, that
+Violet wrote at last, without consulting Jerry, to the man in whose
+hands lay her freedom.</p>
+
+<p>It was a short epistle, and humbly worded, for she realised that this,
+at least, was his due.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you," she wrote, "to forgive me, if you can, for the wrong I
+have done you, and to set me free. I accepted you upon impulse, I am
+ashamed to say, for the sake of your money. But the shame would be even
+greater if I did not tell you so. I do not know what view you will take,
+but my own is that, in releasing me, you will not lose anything that is
+worth having."</p>
+
+<p>The answer to this appeal came the next day by hand:</p>
+
+<p>"May I see you alone at your flat at five o'clock?"</p>
+
+<p>She had not expected it, and she felt for an instant as if a master hand
+had touched her, sending the blood tingling through her veins like fire.
+She sent a reply in the affirmative; and then set herself to face the
+longest day she had ever lived through.</p>
+
+<p>She sat alone during the afternoon, striving desperately to nerve
+herself for the ordeal. But strive as she might, the fact remained that
+she was horribly, painfully frightened. There was something about this
+man which it seemed futile to resist, something that dominated her,
+something against which it hurt her to fight.</p>
+
+<p>She heard his ring punctually upon the stroke of five, and she went
+herself to answer it.</p>
+
+<p>He greeted her with his usual serenity of manner.</p>
+
+<p>"All alone?" he asked, as he followed her into the little drawing-room
+in which he had proposed to her so short a time before.</p>
+
+<p>She assented nervously.</p>
+
+<p>"Jerry went into the city. He won't be back yet."</p>
+
+<p>"That's kind of you," said Kenyon quietly.</p>
+
+<p>She did not ask him to sit down. They faced each other on the hearthrug.
+The strong glare of the electric light showed him that she was very
+pale.</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly he thrust out his hand to her.</p>
+
+<p>"You must forgive me for bullying your brother the other day," he said.
+"Really, he deserved it."</p>
+
+<p>She glanced up quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Jerry doesn't understand," she said.</p>
+
+<p>He kept his hand outstretched though she did not take it.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand, either," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you really want to shake hands with me?" she murmured, her voice
+very low.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to hold your hand in mine, if I may," he answered simply. "I
+think it will help to solve the difficulty. Thank you! Yes; I thought
+you were trembling. Now, why, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer him. Her head was bent.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't!" he said gently. "There is no cause. Didn't I tell you I would
+shunt if you didn't want me?"</p>
+
+<p>Still she was silent, her hand lying passive in his.</p>
+
+<p>"Come!" he said. "I want to understand, don't you know. That note of
+yours. You say in it that you accepted me for the sake of my money. Even
+so. But I reckon that is more a reason for sticking to me than for
+throwing me over."</p>
+
+<p>He paused, but her head only drooped a little lower.</p>
+
+<p>"Doesn't that reason still exist?" he asked her, point blank.</p>
+
+<p>She shivered at the direct question, but she answered it.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; it does. And that's why I'm ashamed to go on."</p>
+
+<p>"Why ashamed?" he asked. "How do you know my reason for wanting to marry
+you is as good since I never told you what it was?"</p>
+
+<p>She looked up then, suddenly and swiftly, and caught a curious glint in
+the blue eyes that watched her.</p>
+
+<p>"I do know," she said, speaking quickly, impulsively. "And that's why&mdash;I
+can't bear&mdash;that you should despise me."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" he said. "Do you really care what an outsider like myself thinks
+of you?"</p>
+
+<p>The colour flamed suddenly in her white face, but he went on in his
+quiet drawl as if he had not seen it:</p>
+
+<p>"If I thought it was for your happiness, believe me, I would set you
+free. But, so far, you haven't given me any reason that could justify
+such a step. Can't you think of one? Honestly, now?"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. Her eyes were full of blinding tears.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, then?" urged Kenyon. And suddenly his voice was as soft as
+a woman's. "Has the right man turned up unexpectedly, after all? Is it
+for his sake?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't!" she cried passionately. "Don't! You hurt me!"</p>
+
+<p>And, turning sharply from him, she hid her face, and broke into
+anguished weeping.</p>
+
+<p>Kenyon stood quite still for perhaps ten seconds; then he moved close to
+her, and put his arm round the slight, sobbing figure.</p>
+
+<p>She did not start or attempt to resist him.</p>
+
+<p>"There, there!" he whispered soothingly. "I knew there was a reason.
+Don't cry, dear! It will be all right&mdash;all right. Never mind the beastly
+money. There's going to be a big boom in the Winhalla Railway shares,
+and you'll make your fortune over it. Yes; I know all about that. A
+friend told me. There's a big capitalist pushing behind. They have gone
+down this week, but they are going to rise like a spring tide next. And
+then&mdash;you'll be free to marry the right man, eh, dear? I sha'n't stand
+in your way. I'll even come and dance at the wedding, if you'll have
+me."</p>
+
+<p>She uttered a muffled laugh through her tears, and turned slightly
+towards him within the encircling arm.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you will," she murmured. "Because&mdash;because&mdash;" She broke off, and
+became silent.</p>
+
+<p>Dick Kenyon's arm did not slacken.</p>
+
+<p>"If you could make it convenient to finish that sentence of yours, I'd
+be real grateful," he observed, at length.</p>
+
+<p>She lifted her face from her hands, and looked him in the eyes. Her own
+were shining.</p>
+
+<p>"Because," she said unsteadily, "I couldn't marry the right man&mdash;if you
+weren't there."</p>
+
+<p>He looked straight back at her without a hint of emotion in his heavy
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite sure of that?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>And she laughed again tremulously as she made reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite sure, Dick," she said softly, "though I've only just found it
+out."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Jerry, tearing in a little later, brimful of city news, noticed that his
+sister's face was brighter than usual, but failed, in his excitement, to
+perceive a visitor in the room, the visitor not troubling himself to
+rise at his entrance.</p>
+
+<p>"News, Vi!" he shouted. "Gorgeous news! The Winhalla Railway is turning
+up trumps! The shares are simply flying up. I told Gardner I'd sell at
+fifty, but he says they are worth holding on to, for they'll go above
+that. He vows they're safe. And who do you think is the capitalist
+that's pushing behind? Why, Kenyon!"</p>
+
+<p>He broke off abruptly at this point as Kenyon himself arose leisurely
+with a serene smile and outstretched hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly&mdash;Kenyon!" he said. "But if you think he's a rank bad speculator
+like yourself, sonny, you're mistaken. I didn't make my money that way,
+and I don't reckon to lose it that way either. But Gardner's right.
+Those shares are safe. They aren't going down again ever any more."</p>
+
+<p>He turned to the girl on his other side, and laid his free hand on her
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"And I guess you'll forgive me for distressing you," he said, "when I
+tell you why I did it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, why, Dick?" she questioned, her face turned to his.</p>
+
+<p>"I just thought I'd like to know, dear," he drawled, "if there wasn't
+something bigger than money to be got out of this deal. And&mdash;are you
+listening, Jerry?&mdash;I found there was!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Knight_Errant" id="The_Knight_Errant"></a>The Knight Errant</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+<h3>THE APPEAL</h3>
+
+
+<p>The Poor Relation hoisted one leg over the arm of his chair, and gazed
+contemplatively at the ceiling.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, I wonder whom I ought to scrag for this," he mused aloud.</p>
+
+<p>A crumpled newspaper lay under his hand, a certain paragraph uppermost
+that was strongly scored with red ink. He had read it twice already and
+after a thoughtful pause he proceeded to read it again.</p>
+
+<p>"A marriage has been arranged and will shortly take place between Cecil
+Mordaunt Rivington and Ernestine, fourth daughter of Lady Florence
+Cardwell."</p>
+
+<p>"Why Ernestine, I wonder?" murmured the Poor Relation. "Thought she was
+still in short frocks. Used to be rather a jolly little kid. Wonder what
+she thinks of the arrangement?"</p>
+
+<p>A faint smile cocked one corner of his mouth&mdash;a very plain mouth which
+he wore no moustache to hide.</p>
+
+<p>"And Lady Florence! Ye gods! Wonder what she thinks!"</p>
+
+<p>The smile developed into a snigger, and vanished at a breath.</p>
+
+<p>"But it's really infernally awkward," he declared. "Ought one to go and
+apologise for what one hasn't done? Really, I don't know if I dare!"</p>
+
+<p>Again, as one searching for inspiration, he read the brief paragraph.</p>
+
+<p>"It looks to me, Cecil Mordaunt, as if you are in for a very warm time,"
+he remarked at the end of this final inspection. "Such a time as you
+haven't had since you left Rugby. If you take my advice you'll sit tight
+like a sensible chap and leave this business to engineer itself. No good
+ever came of meddling."</p>
+
+<p>With which practical reflection he rose to fill and light a briar pipe,
+his inseparable companion, before grappling with his morning
+correspondence.</p>
+
+<p>This lay in a neat pile at his elbow, and after a ruminative pause
+devoted to the briar pipe, he applied himself deliberately to its
+consideration.</p>
+
+<p>The first two he examined and tossed aside with a bored expression. The
+third seemed to excite his interest. It was directed in a nervous,
+irregular hand that had tried too hard to be firm, and had spluttered
+the ink in consequence. The envelope was of a pearly grey tint. The Poor
+Relation sniffed at it, and turned up his nose.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, he opened the missive with a promptitude that testified to
+a certain amount of curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Knight Errant," he read, in the same desperate handwriting. "Do
+you remember once years ago coming to the rescue of a lady in distress
+who was chased by a bull? The lady has never forgotten it. Will you do
+the same again for the same lady to-day, and earn her undying gratitude?
+If so, will you confirm the statement in the <i>Morning Post</i> as often and
+as convincingly as you can till further notice? I wonder if you will? I
+do wonder. I couldn't ask you if you were anything but poor and a sort
+of relation as well.&mdash;Yours, <i>in extremis</i>,</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Ernestine Cardwell.</span></p>
+
+<p>"P.S.&mdash;Of course, don't do it if you would really rather not."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Ernestine!" said the Poor Relation. "That last sentence of
+yours might be described as the saving clause. I would very much rather
+not, if the truth be told; which it probably never will be. As you have
+shrewdly foreseen, the subtlety of your '<i>in extremis</i>' draws me in
+spite of myself. I have seen you <i>in extremis</i> before, and I must admit
+the spectacle made something of an impression."</p>
+
+<p>He read the letter again with characteristic deliberation, lay back
+awhile with pale blue eyes fixed unswervingly upon the ceiling, and
+finally rose and betook himself to his writing-table.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Lady in Distress," he wrote. "I am pleased to note that even poor
+relations have their uses. As your third cousin removed to the sixth or
+seventh degree, I shall be most happy to serve you. Pray regard me as
+unreservedly at your disposal. Awaiting your further commands.&mdash;Your
+devoted</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Knight Errant.</span>"</p>
+
+<p>This letter he directed to Miss Ernestine Cardwell and despatched by
+special messenger. Then, with a serene countenance, he glanced through
+his remaining correspondence, stretched himself, yawned, looked out of
+the window, and finally sauntered forth to his club.</p>
+
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<h3>CONGRATULATIONS</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Ye gods! I should think Lady Florence is feelin' pretty furious. The
+fellow hasn't a penny, and isn't even an honourable. I thought all her
+daughters were to be princesses or duchesses or ranees or somethin'
+imposin'."</p>
+
+<p>Archie Fielding, gossip-in-chief of the Junior Sherwood Club, beat a
+rousing tattoo on the table, and began to whistle Mendelssohn's "Wedding
+March."</p>
+
+<p>"Wonder if he will want me to be best man," he proceeded. "It'll be the
+seventh time this season. Think I shall make a small charge for my
+services for the future. Not to poor old Cecil, though. He's always
+hard-up. I wonder what they'll live on. I'll bet Miss Ernestine hasn't
+been brought up on cheese and smoked herrings."</p>
+
+<p>"Which is Ernestine?" asked another member, generally known at the club
+as "that ass Bray." "The little one, isn't it; the one that laughs?"</p>
+
+<p>"The cheeky one&mdash;yes," said Archie. "I saw her ridin' in the Park with
+Dinghra the other day. Awful brute, Dinghra, if he is a rajah's son."</p>
+
+<p>"Shocking bounder!" said Bray. "But rich&mdash;a quality that covers a
+multitude of sins."</p>
+
+<p>"Especially in Lady Florence's estimation," remarked Archie. "She's had
+designs on him ever since Easter. Ernestine is a nice little thing, you
+know, but somehow she hangs fire. A trifle over-independent, I suppose,
+and she has a sharp tongue, too&mdash;tells the truth a bit too often, don't
+you know. I don't get on with that sort of girl myself. But I'll swear
+Dinghra is head over ears, the brute. I'd give twenty pounds to punch
+his evil mouth."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he's pretty foul, certainly. But apparently she isn't for him. I'm
+surprised that Cecil has taken the trouble to compete. He's kept mighty
+quiet about it. I've met him hardly anywhere this season."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he's a lazy animal! But he always does things on the quiet; it is
+his nature to. He's the sort of chap that thinks for about twenty years,
+and then goes straight and does the one and only thing that no one else
+would dream of doin'. I rather fancy, for all his humdrum ways, he would
+be a difficult man to thwart. I'd give a good deal to know how he got
+over Lady Florence, though. He has precious little to recommend him as a
+son-in-law."</p>
+
+<p>At this point some one kicked him violently, and he looked up to see the
+subject of his harangue sauntering up the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you talking about me?" he inquired, as he came. "Don't let me
+interrupt, I beg. I know I'm an edifying topic, eh, Archibald?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't ask me to praise you to your face," said Archie, quite
+unperturbed. "How are you, old chap? We are all gapin' with amazement
+over this mornin's news. Is it really true? Are we to congratulate?"</p>
+
+<p>"Are you referring to my engagement?" asked the Poor Relation, pausing
+in the middle of the group. "Yes, of course it's true. Do you mean to
+say you were such a pack of dunderheads you didn't see it coming?"</p>
+
+<p>"There wasn't anything to see," protested Archie. "You've been lyin'
+low, you howlin' hypocrite! I always said you were a dark horse."</p>
+
+<p>The Poor Relation smiled upon him tolerantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you call me anything else interesting? It seems to have hurt your
+feelings rather, not being in the know. I can't understand your not
+smelling a rat. Where are your wits, man?"</p>
+
+<p>He tapped Archie's head smartly with his knuckles, and passed on, the
+smile still wrinkling his pale eyes and the forehead above them from
+which the hair was steadily receding towards the top of his skull.</p>
+
+<p>Certainly the gods had not been kind to him in the matter of personal
+beauty, but a certain charm he possessed, notwithstanding, which
+procured for him a well-grounded popularity.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll let me wish you luck, anyway, Rivington," one man said.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather!" echoed Archie. "I hope you'll ask me to your weddin'."</p>
+
+<p>"All of you," said the Poor Relation generously. "It's going to be a
+mountainous affair, and Archie shall officiate as best man."</p>
+
+<p>"When is it to take place?" some one asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, very soon&mdash;very soon indeed; actual date not yet fixed. St.
+George's, Hanover Square, of course; and afterwards at Lady Florence
+Cardwell's charming mansion in Park Lane. It'll be a thrilling
+performance altogether." The Poor Relation beamed impartially upon his
+well-wishers. He seemed to be hugely enjoying himself.</p>
+
+<p>"And whither will the happy pair betake themselves after the reception?"
+questioned Archie.</p>
+
+<p>"That, my dear fellow, is not yet quite decided."</p>
+
+<p>"I expect you'll go for a motor tour," said Bray.</p>
+
+<p>But Rivington at once shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing of that sort. Couldn't afford it. No, we shall do something
+cheaper and more original than that. I've got an old caravan somewhere;
+that might do. Rather a bright idea, eh, Archie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Depends on the bride," said Archie, looking decidedly dubious.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh? Think so? We shall have to talk it over." The Poor Relation
+subsided into a chair, and stretched himself with a sigh. "There are
+such a lot of little things to be considered when you begin to get
+married," he murmured, as he pulled out his pipe.</p>
+
+<p>"Some one wanting you on the telephone, sir," announced one of the club
+attendants at his elbow, a few minutes later.</p>
+
+<p>"Eh? Who is it? Tell 'em I can't be bothered. No, don't. I'm coming."</p>
+
+<p>Laboriously he hoisted himself out of his chair, regretfully he knocked
+the glowing tobacco out of his pipe, heavy-footed he betook him to the
+telephone.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" said a woman's voice. "Is that you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Who do you want?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Rivington&mdash;Cecil Mordaunt Rivington." The syllables came with great
+distinctness. They seemed to have an anxious ring.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'm here," said the owner of the name. "Who are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm Ernestine. Can you hear me?"</p>
+
+<p>"First-rate! What can I do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause, then:</p>
+
+<p>"I had your letter," said the voice, "and I'm tremendously grateful to
+you. I was afraid you might be vexed."</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit of it," said Rivington genially. "Anything to oblige."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks so much! It was great cheek, I know, but I've had such a horrid
+fright. I couldn't think of any other way out, and you were the only
+possible person that occurred to me. You were very kind to me once, a
+long time ago. It's awfully decent of you not to mind."</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't!" said Rivington. "That sort of thing always upsets me.
+Look here, can't we meet somewhere and talk things over? It would
+simplify matters enormously."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it would. That is what I want to arrange. Could you manage some
+time this afternoon? Please say you can!"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I can," said Rivington promptly. "What place?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. It must be somewhere right away where no one will know
+us."</p>
+
+<p>"How would the city do? That's nice and private."</p>
+
+<p>A faint laugh came to his ear. "Yes; but where?"</p>
+
+<p>Rivington briefly considered.</p>
+
+<p>"St. Paul's Cathedral, under the dome, three o'clock. Will that do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'll be there. You won't fail?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not if I live," said Rivington. "Anything else?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; only a million thanks! I'll explain everything when we meet."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. Good-bye!"</p>
+
+<p>As he hung up the receiver, a heavy frown drove the kindliness out of
+his face.</p>
+
+<p>"What have they been doing to the child?" he said. "It's a pretty
+desperate step for a girl to take. At least it might be, it would be, if
+I were any one else."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the smile came back and drew afresh the kindly, humorous lines
+about his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"She seems to remember me rather well," he murmured. "She certainly was
+a jolly little kid."</p>
+
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<h3>THE LADY IN DISTRESS</h3>
+
+
+<p>The afternoon sunlight streamed golden through the cathedral as Cecil
+Rivington passed into its immense silence. He moved with quiet and
+leisurely tread; it was not his way to hurry. The great clock was just
+booming the hour.</p>
+
+<p>There were not many people about. A few stray footsteps wandered through
+the stillness, a few vague whispers floated to and fro. But the peace of
+the place lay like a spell, a dream atmosphere in which every sound was
+hushed.</p>
+
+<p>Rivington passed down the nave till he reached the central space under
+the great dome. There he paused, and gazed straight upwards into the
+giddy height above him.</p>
+
+<p>As he stood thus calmly contemplative, a light step sounded on the
+pavement close to him, and a low voice spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, here you are! It's good of you to be so punctual."</p>
+
+<p>He lowered his eyes slowly as if he were afraid of giving them a shock,
+and focussed them upon the speaker.</p>
+
+<p>"I am never late," he remarked. "And I am never early."</p>
+
+<p>Then he smiled kindly and held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo, Chirpy!" he said. "It is Chirpy, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it is Chirpy. But I never expected you to remember that."</p>
+
+<p>"I remember most things," said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>His pale eyes dwelt contemplatively on the girl before him. She was very
+slim and young, and plainly very nervous. There was no beauty about
+Ernestine Cardwell, only a certain wild grace peculiarly charming, and a
+quick wit that some people found too shrewd. When she laughed she was a
+child. Her laugh was irresistible, and there was magic in her smile, a
+baffling, elusive magic too transient to be defined. Very sudden and
+very fleeting was her smile. Rivington saw it for an instant only as she
+met his look.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know," she said, colouring deeply. "I thought you were much
+older than you are."</p>
+
+<p>"I am fifty," said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>But she shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"It is very good of you to say so."</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all," smiled Rivington. "You, I fancy, must be about twenty-one.
+How long since the bull episode?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do you remember that, too?" She uttered a faint laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Vividly," said Rivington. "I have a lively memory of the fleetness of
+your retreat and the violence of your embrace when the danger was over."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed again.</p>
+
+<p>"It was years and years ago&mdash;quite six, I should think."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite, I should say," agreed Rivington. "But we have met since then,
+surely?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes, casually. But we are not in the same set, are we? Some one once
+told me you were very Bohemian."</p>
+
+<p>"Who was it? I should like to shoot him!" said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>At which she laughed again, and then threw a guilty glance around.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think this is a very good place for a talk."</p>
+
+<p>"Not if you want to do much laughing," said Rivington. "Come along to
+the tea-shop round the corner. No one will disturb us there."</p>
+
+<p>They turned side by side, and began to walk back. The girl moved quickly
+as though not wholly at her ease. She glanced at her companion once or
+twice, but it was not till they finally emerged at the head of the steps
+that she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I am wondering more and more how I ever had the impertinence to do it."</p>
+
+<p>"There's no great risk in asking a poor relation to do anything," said
+Rivington consolingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but I did it without asking." There was an unmistakable note of
+distress in her quick rejoinder. "I was at my wits' end. I didn't know
+what on earth to do. And it came to me suddenly like an inspiration. But
+I wish I hadn't now, with all my heart."</p>
+
+<p>Rivington turned his mild eyes upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child, don't be silly!" he said. "I am delighted to be of use
+for a change. I don't do much worth the doing, being more or less of a
+loafer. It is good for me to exercise my ingenuity now and then. It only
+gets rusty lying by."</p>
+
+<p>She put out her hand impulsively and squeezed his.</p>
+
+<p>"You're awfully nice to me," she said. "It's only a temporary expedient,
+of course. I couldn't ask you first&mdash;there wasn't time. But I'll set you
+free as soon as I possibly can. Have people been talking much?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rather! They are enjoying it immensely. I have had to go ahead like
+steam. I've even engaged a best man."</p>
+
+<p>She threw him a startled look.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, don't be alarmed," he said reassuringly. "It's best to take the
+bull by the horns, believe me. The more fuss you make at the outset, the
+quicker it will be over. People will be taking us for granted in a
+week."</p>
+
+<p>"You think so?" she said doubtfully. "I can't think what mother will
+say. I don't dare think."</p>
+
+<p>"Is your mother away, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, in Paris for a few days. I couldn't have done it if she had been
+at home. I don't know quite what I should have done." She broke off with
+a sudden shudder. "I've had a horrid fright," she said again.</p>
+
+<p>"Come and have some tea," suggested Rivington practically.</p>
+
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<h3>A COUNCIL OF WAR</h3>
+
+
+<p>They had tea in a secluded corner, well removed from all prying eyes.
+Gradually, as the minutes passed, the girl's manner became more assured.</p>
+
+<p>When at length he leaned his elbows on the table and said, "Tell me all
+about it," she was ready.</p>
+
+<p>She leaned towards him, and dropped her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"You know Mr. Dinghra Singh? I'm sure you do. Every one does."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know him. They call him Nana Sahib at the clubs."</p>
+
+<p>She shuddered again.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to like him rather. He has a wicked sort of fascination, you
+know. But I loathe him now; I abhor him. And&mdash;I am terrified at him."</p>
+
+<p>She stopped. Rivington said nothing. There was not much expression in
+his eyes. Without seeming to scan very closely, they rested on her face.</p>
+
+<p>After a moment, in a whisper, she continued:</p>
+
+<p>"He follows me about perpetually. I meet him everywhere. He looks at me
+with horrid eyes. I know, without seeing, the instant he comes into the
+room."</p>
+
+<p>She paused. Rivington still said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"He is very rich, you know," she went on, with an effort. "He will be
+Rajah of Ferosha some day. And, of course, every one is very nice to him
+in consequence. I never was that. Don't think it! But I used to laugh at
+him. It's my way. Most men don't like it. No Englishmen do that I know
+of. But he&mdash;this man&mdash;is, somehow, different from every one else.
+And&mdash;can you believe it?&mdash;he is literally stalking me. He sends me
+presents&mdash;exquisite things, jewellery, that my mother won't let me
+return. I asked him not to once, and he laughed in my face. He has a
+horrible laugh. He is half-English, too. I believe that makes him worse.
+If he were an out-and-out native he wouldn't be quite so revolting. Of
+course, I see my mother's point of view. Naturally, she would like me to
+be a princess, and, as she says, I can't pick and choose. Which is true,
+you know," she put in quaintly, "for men don't like me as a rule; at
+least, not the marrying sort. I rather think I'm not the marrying sort
+myself. I've never been in love, never once. But I couldn't&mdash;I could
+not&mdash;marry Dinghra. But it's no good telling him so. The cooler I am to
+him the hotter he seems to get, till&mdash;till I'm beginning to wonder how I
+can possibly get away."</p>
+
+<p>The note of distress sounded again in her voice. Very quietly, as though
+in answer to it, Rivington reached out a hand and laid it over hers.</p>
+
+<p>But his eyes never varied as he said:</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you finish?"</p>
+
+<p>She bent her head.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll think me foolish to be so easily scared," she said, a slight
+catch in her voice. "Most women manage to take care of themselves. I
+ought to be able to."</p>
+
+<p>"Please go on," he said. "I don't think you foolish at all."</p>
+
+<p>She continued, without raising her eyes:</p>
+
+<p>"Things have been getting steadily worse. Last week at Lady Villar's
+ball I had to dance with him four times. I tried to refuse, but mother
+was there. She wouldn't hear of it. You know"&mdash;appealingly&mdash;"she is so
+experienced. She knows how to insist without seeming to, so that, unless
+one makes a scene, one has to yield. I thought each dance that he meant
+to propose, but I just managed to steer clear. I felt absolutely
+delirious the whole time. Most people thought I was enjoying it. Old
+Lady Phillips told me I was looking quite handsome." She laughed a
+little. "Well, after all, there seemed to be no escape, and I got
+desperate. It was like a dreadful nightmare. I went to the opera one
+night, and he came and sat close behind me and talked in whispers. When
+he wasn't talking I knew that he was watching me&mdash;gloating over me. It
+was horrible&mdash;horrible! Last night I wouldn't go out with the others. I
+simply couldn't face it. And&mdash;do you know&mdash;he came to me!" She began to
+breathe quickly, unevenly. The hands that lay in Rivington's quiet grasp
+moved with nervous restlessness. "There was no one in the house besides
+the servants," she said. "What could I do? He was admitted before I
+knew. Of course, I ought to have refused to see him, but he was very
+insistent, and I thought it a mistake to seem afraid. So I went to
+him&mdash;I went to him."</p>
+
+<p>The words came with a rush. She began to tremble all over. She was
+almost sobbing.</p>
+
+<p>Rivington's fingers closed very slowly, barely perceptibly, till his
+grip was warm and close. "Take your time," he said gently. "It's all
+right, you know&mdash;all right."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," she whispered. "Well, I saw him. He was in a dangerous&mdash;a
+wild-beast mood. He told me I needn't try to run away any longer, for I
+was caught. He said&mdash;and I know it was true&mdash;that he had obtained my
+mother's full approval and consent. He swore that he wouldn't leave me
+until I promised to marry him. He was terrible, with a sort of
+suppressed violence that appalled me. I tried not to let him see how
+terrified I was. I kept quite quiet and temperate for a long time. I
+told him I could never, never marry him. And each time I said it, he
+smiled and showed his teeth. He was like a tiger. His eyes were
+fiendish. But he, too, kept quiet for ever so long. He tried persuasion,
+he tried flattery. Oh, it was loathsome&mdash;loathsome! And then quite
+suddenly he turned savage, and&mdash;and threatened me."</p>
+
+<p>She glanced nervously into Rivington's face, but it told her nothing. He
+looked merely thoughtful.</p>
+
+<p>She went on more quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"That drove me desperate, and I exclaimed, hardly thinking, 'I wouldn't
+marry you if you were the only man in the world&mdash;which you are not!'
+'Oh!' he said at once. 'There is another man, is there?' He didn't seem
+to have thought that possible. And I&mdash;I was simply clutching at
+straws&mdash;I told him 'Yes.' It was a lie, you know&mdash;the first deliberate
+lie I think I have ever told since I came to years of discretion. There
+isn't another man, or likely to be. That's just the trouble. If there
+were, my mother wouldn't be so angry with me for refusing this chance of
+marriage, brilliant though she thinks it. But I was quite desperate. Do
+you think it was very wrong of me?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Rivington deliberately, "I don't. I lie myself&mdash;when
+necessary."</p>
+
+<p>"He was furious," she said. "He swore that no other man should stand in
+his way. And then&mdash;I don't know how it was; perhaps I wasn't very
+convincing&mdash;he began to suspect that I had lied. That drove me into a
+corner. I didn't know what to say or do. And then, quite suddenly, in my
+extremity, I thought of you. I really don't know what made me. I didn't
+so much as know if you were in town. And in a flash I thought of sending
+that announcement to the paper. That would convince him if nothing else
+would, and it would mean at least a temporary respite. It was a mad
+thing to do, I know. But I thought you were elderly and level-headed and
+a confirmed bachelor and&mdash;and a sort of cousin as well&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"To the tenth degree," murmured Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>"So I told him," she hurried on, unheeding, "that we were engaged, and
+it was just going to be announced. When he heard that, he lost his head.
+I really think he was mad for the moment. He sprang straight at me like
+a wild beast, and I&mdash;I simply turned and fled. I'm pretty nimble, you
+know, when&mdash;when there are mad bulls about." Her quick smile flashed
+across her face and was gone. "That's all," she said. "I tore up to my
+room, and scribbled that paragraph straight away. I dared not wait for
+anything. And then I wrote to you. You had my letter with the paper this
+morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I had them." Rivington spoke absently. She had a feeling that his
+eyes were fixed upon her without seeing her. "So that's all, is it?" he
+said slowly.</p>
+
+<p>Again nervously her hands moved beneath his.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been very headlong and idiotic," she said impulsively. "I've put
+you in an intolerable position. You must write at once and contradict it
+in the next issue."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mind not talking nonsense for a minute?" he said mildly. "I
+shall see my way directly."</p>
+
+<p>She dropped into instant silence, sitting tense and mute, scarcely even
+breathing, while the pale blue eyes opposite remained steadily and
+unblinkingly fixed upon her face.</p>
+
+<p>After a few moments he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"When does your mother return?"</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow morning." She hesitated for a second; then, "Of course she
+will be furious," she said. "You won't be able to argue with her. No one
+can."</p>
+
+<p>Rivington's eyes looked faintly quizzical.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't propose to try," he said. "She is, as I well know, an adept in
+the gentle art of snubbing. And I am no match for her there. She has,
+moreover, a rooted objection to poor relations, for which I can hardly
+blame her&mdash;a prejudice which, however, I am pleased to note that you do
+not share."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled at her with the words, and she flashed him a quick, answering
+smile, though her lips were quivering.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not a bit like my mother," she said. "I was always dad's
+girl&mdash;while he lived. It was he who called me Chirpy. No one else ever
+did&mdash;but you."</p>
+
+<p>"A great piece of presumption on my part," said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I like you to. It makes you seem like an old friend, which is what
+I need just now, more than anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so," said Rivington. "That qualifies me to advise, I suppose. I
+hope you won't be shocked at what I am going to suggest."</p>
+
+<p>She met his eyes with complete confidence. "I shall do it whatever it
+is," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be rash," he rejoined. "It entails a sacrifice. But it is the
+only thing that occurs to me for the moment. I think if you are wise you
+will leave London to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Leave London!" she echoed, looking startled.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Just drop out for a bit, cut everything, and give this business a
+chance to blow over. Leave a note behind for mamma when she arrives, and
+tell her why. She'll understand."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but&mdash;how can I? Dinghra will only follow me, and I shall be more
+at his mercy than ever in the country."</p>
+
+<p>"If he finds you," said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>"But mother would tell him directly where to look."</p>
+
+<p>"If she knew herself," he returned drily.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" She stared at him with eyes of grave doubt. "But," she said, after
+a moment, "I have no money. I can't live on nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"I do," said Rivington. "You can do the same."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head instantly, though she smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Not on the same nothing, Mr. Rivington."</p>
+
+<p>He took his hand abruptly from hers.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Chirpy," he said; "don't be a snob!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not," she protested.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you are. It's atrocious to be put in my place by a chit like you.
+I won't put up with it." He frowned at her ferociously. "You weren't
+above asking my help, but if you are above taking it&mdash;I've done with
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, not really!" she pleaded. "It was foolish of me, I admit, because
+you really are one of the family. Please don't scowl so. It doesn't suit
+your style of beauty in the least, and I am sure you wouldn't like to
+spoil a good impression."</p>
+
+<p>But he continued to frown uncompromisingly, till she stretched out a
+conciliatory hand to him across the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be cross, Knight Errant! I know you are only pretending."</p>
+
+<p>"Then don't do it again," he said, relaxing, and pinching her fingers
+somewhat heartlessly. "I'm horribly sensitive on some points. As I was
+saying, it won't hurt you very badly to live on nothing for a bit, even
+if you are a lady of extravagant tastes."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I can work," she said eagerly. "I can change my name, and go
+into a shop."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," he said, mildly sarcastic. "You will doubtless find your
+vocation sooner or later. But that is not the present point. Now,
+listen! In the county of Hampshire is a little place called
+Weatherbroom&mdash;quite a little place, just a hamlet and a post-office.
+Just out of the hamlet is a mill with a few acres of farm land attached.
+It's awfully picturesque&mdash;a regular artists' place. By the way, are you
+an artist?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no. I sketch a little, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That'll do. You are not an artist, but you sketch. Then you won't be
+quite stranded. It's very quiet, you know. There's no society. Only the
+miller and his wife, and now and then the landlord&mdash;an out-at-elbows
+loafer who drifts about town and, very occasionally, plays knight errant
+to ladies in distress. There isn't even a curate. Can you possibly
+endure it?"</p>
+
+<p>She raised her head and laughed&mdash;a sweet, spontaneous laugh,
+inexpressibly gay.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you are good&mdash;just good! It's the only word that describes you. I
+always felt you were. I didn't know you were a landed proprietor,
+though."</p>
+
+<p>"In a very small way," he assured her.</p>
+
+<p>"How nice!" she said eagerly. "Yes, I'll go. I shall love it. But"&mdash;her
+face falling&mdash;"what of you? Shall you stay in town?"</p>
+
+<p>"And face the music," said the Poor Relation, with his most benign
+smile. "That is my intention. Don't pity me! I shall enjoy it."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it possible?" Again she looked doubtful.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course it's possible. I enjoy a good row now and then. It keeps me
+in condition. I'll come down and see you some day, and tell you all
+about it." He glanced at his watch. "I think we ought to be moving. We
+will discuss arrangements as we go. I must send a wire to Mrs. Perkiss,
+and tell her you will go down by the seven-thirty. I will see you into
+the train at this end, and they will meet you at the other with the
+cart. It's three miles from the railway."</p>
+
+<p>As they passed out together, he added meditatively, "I think you'll like
+the old mill, Chirpy. It's thatched."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure I shall," she answered earnestly.</p>
+
+
+<h3>V</h3>
+
+<h3>THE KNIGHT ERRANT TAKES THE FIELD</h3>
+
+
+<p>Rivington returned to his rooms that night, after dining at a
+restaurant, with a pleasing sense of having accomplished something that
+had been well worth the doing. He chuckled to himself a little as he
+walked. It was a decidedly humorous situation.</p>
+
+<p>He was met at the top of the stairs by his servant, a sharp-faced lad of
+fifteen whom he had picked out of the dock of a police-court some months
+before, and who was devoted to him in consequence.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a gentleman waitin' for you sir; wouldn't take 'No' for an
+answer; been 'ere best part of an hour. Name of Sin, sir. Looks like a
+foreigner."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?" The blue eyes widened for a moment, then smiled approbation. "Very
+appropriate," murmured Rivington. "All right, Tommy; I know the
+gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>He was still smiling as he entered his room.</p>
+
+<p>A slim, dark man turned swiftly from its farther end to meet him. He had
+obviously been prowling up and down.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Rivington?" he said interrogatively.</p>
+
+<p>Rivington bowed.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Dinghra Singh?" he returned.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen me before?"</p>
+
+<p>"At a distance&mdash;several times."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" The Indian drew himself up with a certain arrogance, but his
+narrow black moustache did not hide the fact that his lips were
+twitching with excitement. His dark eyes shone like the eyes of a beast,
+green and ominous. "But we have never spoken. I thought not. Now, Mr.
+Rivington, will you permit me to come at once to business?"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke without a trace of foreign accent. He stood in the middle of
+the room, facing Rivington, in a commanding attitude.</p>
+
+<p>Rivington took a seat on the edge of the table. He was still faintly
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"Go ahead, sir," he said. "Won't you sit down?"</p>
+
+<p>But Dinghra preferred to stand.</p>
+
+<p>"I am presuming that you are the Mr. Cecil Mordaunt Rivington whose
+engagement to Miss Ernestine Cardwell was announced in this morning's
+paper," he said, speaking quickly but very distinctly.</p>
+
+<p>"The same," said Rivington. He added with a shrug of the shoulders, "A
+somewhat high-sounding name for such a humble citizen as myself, but it
+was not of my own choosing."</p>
+
+<p>Dinghra ignored the remark. He was very plainly in no mood for
+trivialities.</p>
+
+<p>"And the engagement really exists?" he questioned.</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman's brows went up.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course it exists."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" It was like a snarl. The white teeth gleamed for a moment. "I had
+no idea," Dinghra said, still with the same feverish rapidity, "that I
+had a rival."</p>
+
+<p>"Are we rivals?" said Rivington, amiably regretful. "It's the first I
+have heard of it."</p>
+
+<p>"You must have known!" The green glare suddenly began to flicker with a
+ruddy tinge as of flame. "Every one knew that I was after her."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes, I knew that," said Rivington. "But&mdash;pardon me if I fail to see
+that that fact constitutes any rivalry between us. We were engaged long
+before she met you. We have been engaged for years."</p>
+
+<p>"For years!" Dinghra took a sudden step forward. He looked as if he were
+about to spring at the Englishman's throat.</p>
+
+<p>But Rivington remained quite unmoved, all unsuspecting, lounging on the
+edge of the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, for years," he repeated. "But we have kept it to ourselves till
+now. Even Lady Florence had no notion of it. There was nothing to be
+gained by talking. It was a case of&mdash;" He dug his hands into his
+trousers pockets and pulled them inside out with an eloquent gesture.
+"So, of course, there was nothing for it but to wait."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why have you published the engagement now?" demanded Dinghra.</p>
+
+<p>Rivington smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Because we are tired of waiting," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"You are in a position to marry, then? You are&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I am as poor as a church mouse, if you want to know," said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>"And you will marry on nothing?"</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say we sha'n't starve," said Rivington optimistically.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" Again that beast-like snarl. There was no green glare left in the
+watching eyes&mdash;only red, leaping flame. "And&mdash;you like poverty?" asked
+the Indian in the tone of one seeking information.</p>
+
+<p>"I detest it," said Rivington, with unusual energy.</p>
+
+<p>Dinghra drew a step nearer, noiselessly, like a cat. His lips began to
+smile. He could not have been aware of the tigerish ferocity of his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to make a bargain with you, Mr. Rivington," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Rivington, his hands in his pockets, looked him over with a cool
+appraising eye. He said nothing at all.</p>
+
+<p>"This girl," said Dinghra, his voice suddenly very soft and persuasive,
+"she is worth a good deal to you&mdash;doubtless?"</p>
+
+<p>"Doubtless," said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>"She is worth&mdash;what?"</p>
+
+<p>Rivington stared uncomprehendingly.</p>
+
+<p>With a slight, contemptuous gesture the Indian proceeded to explain.</p>
+
+<p>"She is worth a good deal to me too&mdash;more than you would think. Her
+mother also desires a marriage between us. I am asking you, Mr.
+Rivington, to give her up, and to&mdash;name your price."</p>
+
+<p>"The devil you are!" said Rivington; but he said it without violence. He
+still sat motionless, his hands in his pockets, surveying his visitor.</p>
+
+<p>"I am rich," Dinghra said, still in those purring accents. "I am
+prepared to make you a wealthy man for the rest of your life. You will
+be able to marry, if you desire to do so, and live in ease and luxury.
+Come, Mr. Rivington, what do you say to it? You detest poverty. Now is
+your chance, then. You need never be poor again."</p>
+
+<p>"You're uncommonly generous," said Rivington. "But is the lady to have
+no say in the matter? Or has she already spoken?"</p>
+
+<p>Dinghra looked supremely contemptuous.</p>
+
+<p>"The matter is entirely between you and me," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" Rivington became reflective.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian crossed his arms and waited.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," Rivington said at length, "I will name my price, since you
+desire it, but I warn you it's a fairly stiff one. You won't like it."</p>
+
+<p>"Speak!" said Dinghra eagerly. His eyes literally blazed at the
+Englishman's imperturbable face.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly Rivington took his hands from his pockets. Slowly he rose. For a
+moment he seemed to tower almost threateningly over the lesser man, then
+carelessly he suffered his limbs to relax.</p>
+
+<p>"The price," he said, "is that you come to me every day for a fortnight
+for as sound a licking as I am in a condition to administer. I will
+release Miss Ernestine Cardwell for that, and that alone." He paused.
+"And I think at the end of my treatment that you will stand a
+considerably better chance of winning her favour than you do at
+present," he added, faintly smiling.</p>
+
+<p>An awful silence followed his words. Dinghra stood as though transfixed
+for the space of twenty seconds. Then, without word or warning of any
+sort, with a single spring inexpressibly bestial, he leapt at
+Rivington's throat.</p>
+
+<p>But Rivington was ready for him. With incredible swiftness he stooped
+and caught his assailant as he sprang. There followed a brief and
+furious struggle, and then the Indian found himself slowly but
+irresistibly forced backwards across the Englishman's knee. He had a
+vision of pale blue eyes that were too grimly ironical to be angry, and
+the next moment he was sitting on the floor, two muscular hands holding
+him down.</p>
+
+<p>"Not to-night," said the leisurely voice above him. "To-morrow, if you
+like, we will begin the cure. Go home now and think it over."</p>
+
+<p>And with that he was free. But he sat for a second too infuriated to
+speak or move. Then, like lightning, he was on his feet.</p>
+
+<p>They stood face to face for an interval that was too pregnant with
+fierce mental strife to be timed by seconds. Then, with clenched hands,
+in utter silence, Dinghra turned away. He went softly, with a gliding,
+beast-like motion to the door, paused an instant, looked back with the
+gleaming eyes of a devil&mdash;and was gone.</p>
+
+<p>The Poor Relation threw himself into a chair and laughed very softly,
+his lower lip gripped fast between his teeth.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VI</h3>
+
+<h3>THE KNIGHT ERRANT'S STRATEGY</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was summer in Weatherbroom&mdash;the glareless, perfect summer of the
+country, of trees in their first verdure, of seas of bracken all in
+freshest green, of shining golden gorse, of babbling, clear brown
+streams, of birds that sang and chattered all day long.</p>
+
+<p>And in the midst of this paradise Ernestine Cardwell dwelt secure. There
+was literally not a soul to speak to besides the miller and his wife,
+but this absence of human companionship had not begun to pall upon her.
+She was completely and serenely happy.</p>
+
+<p>She spent the greater part of her days wandering about the woods and
+commons with a book tucked under her arm which she seldom opened. Now
+and then she tried to sketch, but usually abandoned the attempt in a fit
+of impatience. How could she hope to reproduce, even faintly, the
+loveliness around her? It seemed presumption almost to try, and she
+revelled in idleness instead. The singing of the birds had somehow got
+into her heart. She could listen to that music for hours together.</p>
+
+<p>Or else she would wander along the mill-stream with the roar of the
+racing water behind her, and gather great handfuls of the wild flowers
+that fringed its banks. These were usually her evening strolls, and she
+loved none better.</p>
+
+<p>Once, exploring around the mill, she entered a barn, and found there an
+old caravan that once had been gaily painted and now stood in all the
+shabbiness of departed glory. She had the curiosity to investigate its
+interior, and found there a miniature bedroom neatly furnished.</p>
+
+<p>"That's Mr. Rivington's," the miller's wife told her. "He will often run
+down to fish in the summer, and then he likes it pulled out into the bit
+of wood yonder by the water, and spends the night there. It's a funny
+fancy, I often think."</p>
+
+<p>"I should love it," said Ernestine.</p>
+
+<p>She wrote to Rivington that night, her second letter since her arrival,
+and told him of her discovery. She added, "When are you coming down
+again? There are plenty of trout in the stream." And she posted the
+letter herself at the little thatched post-office, with a small,
+strictly private smile. Oh, no, she wasn't bored, of course! But it
+would be rather fun if he came.</p>
+
+<p>On the evening of the following day, she was returning from her
+customary stroll along the stream, when she spied a water-lily, yellow
+and splendid, floating, as is the invariable custom of these flowers,
+just out of reach from the bank. She made several attempts to secure it,
+each failure only serving to increase her determination. Finally, the
+evening being still and warm, and her desire for the pretty thing not to
+be denied, she slipped off shoes and stockings and slid cautiously into
+the stream. It bubbled deliciously round her ankles, sending exquisite
+cold thrills through and through her. She secured her prize, and gave
+herself up unreservedly to the enjoyment thereof.</p>
+
+<p>An unmistakable whiff of tobacco-smoke awoke her from her dream of
+delight. She turned swiftly, the lily in one hand, her skirt clutched in
+the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be alarmed," said a quiet, casual voice. "It's only me."</p>
+
+<p>"Only you!" she echoed, blushing crimson. "I wasn't expecting anyone
+just now."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I don't count," he said. He was standing on the bank above her,
+looking down upon her with eyes so kindly that she found it impossible
+to be vexed with him, or even embarrassed after that first moment.</p>
+
+<p>She reached up her hand to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm coming out."</p>
+
+<p>He took the small wrist, and helped her ashore. She looked up at him and
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you've come," she said simply.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," he returned, equally simply. "How are you getting on?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, beautifully! I'm as happy as the day is long."</p>
+
+<p>She began to rub her bare feet in the grass.</p>
+
+<p>"Have my handkerchief," he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>She accepted it with a smile, and sat down.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me about everything," she said.</p>
+
+<p>Rivington sat down also, and took a long, luxurious pull at the briar
+pipe.</p>
+
+<p>"Things were quite lively for a day or two after you left," he said.
+"But they have settled down again. Still, I don't advise you to go back
+again at present."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm not going," she said. "I am much happier here. I saw a squirrel
+this morning. I wanted to kiss it dreadfully, but," with a sigh, "it
+didn't understand."</p>
+
+<p>"The squirrel's loss," observed Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>She crumpled his handkerchief into a ball, and tossed it at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. But as it will never know what it has missed, it doesn't so
+much matter. Are you going to live in the caravan? I'll bring you your
+supper if you are."</p>
+
+<p>"That's awfully good of you," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, it isn't. I want to. I shall bring my own as well and eat it on
+the step."</p>
+
+<p>"Better and better!" said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>She laughed her own peculiarly light-hearted laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"I've a good mind to turn you out and sleep there myself. I'm longing to
+know what it feels like."</p>
+
+<p>"You can if you want to," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"I daren't, by myself."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have my kennel underneath," he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>But she shook her head again, though she still laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I mustn't. What would Mrs. Perkiss say? She has a very high opinion
+of me at present."</p>
+
+<p>"Who hasn't?" said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>She raised her eyes suddenly and gave him a straight, serious look.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you trying to be complimentary, Knight Errant? Because&mdash;don't!"</p>
+
+<p>Rivington blew a cloud of smoke into the air.</p>
+
+<p>"Shouldn't dream of it," he said imperturbably. "I am fully aware that
+poor relations mustn't presume on their privileges."</p>
+
+<p>She coloured a little, and gave her whole attention to fastening her
+shoe-lace.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't mean that," she said, after a moment. "Only&mdash;don't think I
+care for that sort of thing, for, candidly, I don't."</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't be afraid," he answered gravely. "I shall never say
+anything to you that I don't mean."</p>
+
+<p>She glanced up again with her quick smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it a bargain?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>He held out his hand to her.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Chirpy, a bargain," he said.</p>
+
+<p>And they sealed it with a warm grip of mutual appreciation.</p>
+
+<p>"Now tell me what everybody has been saying about me," she said, getting
+to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled as he leisurely arose.</p>
+
+<p>"To begin with," he said, "I've seen mamma."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on! Wasn't she furious?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child, that is but a mild term. She was cold as the nether
+mill-stone. I am afraid there isn't much chance for us if we persist in
+our folly."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be absurd! Tell me everything. Has that announcement been
+contradicted?"</p>
+
+<p>"Once," said Rivington. "But it has been inserted three times since
+then."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but you didn't&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but I did. It was necessary. I think everyone is now convinced of
+our engagement, including Lady Florence."</p>
+
+<p>Ernestine laughed a little, in spite of herself.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't think what the end of it will be," she said, with a touch of
+uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait till we get there," said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>She threw him a glance, half merry and half shy.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you tell mother where I was?"</p>
+
+<p>"On the contrary," said Rivington, "I implored her to tell me."</p>
+
+<p>She drew a sharp breath.</p>
+
+<p>"That was very ingenious of you."</p>
+
+<p>"So I thought," he rejoined modestly.</p>
+
+<p>"And what did she say?"</p>
+
+<p>"She said with scarcely a pause that she had sent you out of town to
+give you time to come to your senses, and it was quite futile for me to
+question her, as she had not the faintest intention of revealing your
+whereabouts."</p>
+
+<p>Ernestine breathed again.</p>
+
+<p>"I said in the note I left behind for her that she wasn't to worry about
+me. I had gone into the country to get away from my troubles."</p>
+
+<p>"That was ingenious, too," he commented. "I think, if you ask me, that
+we have come out of the affair rather well."</p>
+
+<p>"We have all been remarkably subtle," she said, with a sigh. "But I
+don't like subtlety, you know. It's very horrid, and it frightens me
+rather."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you afraid of?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. I think I am afraid of going too far and not being able
+to get back."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you want to get back?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, of course not. At least, not yet," she assured him.</p>
+
+<p>"Then, my dear," he said, "I think, if you will allow me to say so, that
+you are disquieting yourself in vain."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke very kindly, with a gentleness that was infinitely reassuring.</p>
+
+<p>With an impulsive movement of complete confidence, she slipped her hand
+through his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Knight Errant," she said. "I wanted that."</p>
+
+<p>She did not ask him anything about Dinghra, and he wondered a little at
+her forbearance.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VII</h3>
+
+<h3>HIS INSPIRATION</h3>
+
+
+<p>The days of Rivington's sojourn slipped by with exceeding smoothness.
+They did a little fishing and a good deal of quiet lazing, a little
+exploring, and even one or two long, all-day rambles.</p>
+
+<p>And then one day, to Ernestine's amazement, Rivington took her
+sketching-block from her and began to sketch. He worked rapidly and
+quite silently for about an hour, smoking furiously the while, and
+finally laid before her the completed sketch.</p>
+
+<p>She stared at it in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"I had no idea you were a genius. Why, it's lovely!"</p>
+
+<p>He smiled a little.</p>
+
+<p>"I did it for a living once, before my father died and left me enough to
+buy me bread and cheese. I became a loafer then, and I've been one ever
+since."</p>
+
+<p>"But what a pity!" she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>His smile broadened.</p>
+
+<p>"It is, isn't it? But where's the sense of working when you've nothing
+to work for? No, it isn't the work of a genius. It's the work of a man
+who might do something good if he had the incentive for it, but not
+otherwise."</p>
+
+<p>"What a pity!" she said again. "Why don't you take to it again?"</p>
+
+<p>"I might," he said, "if I found it worth while."</p>
+
+<p>He tapped the ashes from his pipe and settled himself at full length.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely it is worth while!" she protested. "Why, you might make quite a
+lot of money."</p>
+
+<p>Rivington stuck the empty pipe between his teeth and pulled at it
+absently.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not particularly keen on money," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"But it's such a waste," she argued. "Oh, I wish I had your talent. I
+would never let it lie idle."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't my fault," he said; "I am waiting for an inspiration."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by an inspiration?"</p>
+
+<p>He turned lazily upon his side and looked at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us say, for instance, if some nice little woman ever cared to marry
+me," he said.</p>
+
+<p>There fell a sudden silence. Ernestine was studying his sketch with her
+head on one side. At length, "You will never marry," she said, in a tone
+of conviction.</p>
+
+<p>"Probably not," agreed Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>He lay still for a few seconds, then sat up slowly and removed his pipe
+to peer over her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't bad," he said critically.</p>
+
+<p>She flashed him a sudden smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Do take it up again!" she pleaded. "It's really wicked of you to go and
+bury a talent like that."</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't sketch just to please myself. It isn't in me."</p>
+
+<p>"Do it to please me, then," she said impulsively.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Would it please you, Chirpy?"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes met his with absolute candour.</p>
+
+<p>"Immensely," she said. "Immensely! You know it would."</p>
+
+<p>He held out his hand for the sketch.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, then. You shall be my inspiration."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed lightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Till that nice little woman turns up."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly," said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>He continued to hold out his hand, but she withheld the sketch.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to keep it, if you don't mind."</p>
+
+<p>"What for?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I like it. I want it. Why shouldn't I?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will do you something better worth having than that," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Something I shouldn't like half so well," she returned. "No, I'm going
+to keep this, in memory of a perfect afternoon and some of the happiest
+days of my life."</p>
+
+<p>Rivington gave in, still smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going back to town to-morrow," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, are you?" Actual dismay sounded in her voice. "Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid I must," he said. "I'm sorry. Shall you be lonely?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no," she rejoined briskly. "Of course not. I wasn't lonely before
+you came." She added rather wistfully, "It was good of you to stay so
+long; I hope you haven't been very bored?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit," said Rivington. "I've only been afraid of boring you."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a little. A certain constraint seemed to have fallen upon
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"How horribly polite we are getting!" she said.</p>
+
+<p>He laid his hand for an instant on her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall come again, Chirpy," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She nodded carelessly, not looking at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mind you do. I dare say I shan't be having any other visitors at
+present."</p>
+
+<p>But though her manner was perfectly friendly, Rivington was conscious of
+that unwonted constraint during the rest of his visit. He even fancied
+on the morrow that she bade him farewell with relief.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VIII</h3>
+
+<h3>THE MEETING IN THE MARKET-PLACE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Two days later, Ernestine drove with the miller's wife to market at
+Rington, five miles distant. She had never seen a country market, and
+her interest was keen. They started after an early breakfast on an
+exquisite summer morning. And Ernestine carried with her a letter which
+she had that day received from Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Chirpy," it ran, "I hasten to write and tell you that now I am
+back in town again I am most hideously bored. I am, however, negotiating
+for a studio, which fact ought to earn for me your valued approval. If,
+for any reason, my presence should seem desirable to you, write or wire,
+and I shall come immediately.&mdash;Your devoted</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Knight Errant.</span>"</p>
+
+<p>Ernestine squeezed this letter a good many times on the way to Rington.
+She had certainly been feeling somewhat forlorn since his departure.
+But, this fact notwithstanding, she had no intention of writing or
+wiring to him at present. Still, it was nice to know he would come.</p>
+
+<p>They reached the old country town, and found it crammed with market
+folk. The whole place hummed with people. Ernestine's first view of the
+market-place filled her with amazement. The lowing of cattle, the
+bleating of sheep, and the yelling of men combined to make such a
+confusion of sound that she felt bewildered, even awestruck.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Perkiss went straight to the oldest inn in the place and put up the
+cart. She was there to buy, not to sell.</p>
+
+<p>Ernestine kept with her for the first hour, then, growing weary of the
+hubbub, wandered away from the market to explore the old town. She sat
+for a while in the churchyard, and there, to enliven her solitude,
+re-read that letter of Rivington's. Was he really taking up art again to
+please her? He had been very energetic. She wondered, smiling, how long
+his energy would last.</p>
+
+<p>Thus engaged the time passed quickly, and she presently awoke from a
+deep reverie to find that the hour Mrs. Perkiss had appointed for lunch
+at the inn was approaching. She rose, and began to make her way thither.</p>
+
+<p>The street was crowded, and her progress was slow. A motor was threading
+its way through the throng at a snail's pace. The persistence of its
+horn attracted her attention. As it neared her she glanced at its
+occupant.</p>
+
+<p>The next moment she was shrinking back into a doorway, white to the
+lips. The man in the car was Dinghra.</p>
+
+<p>Across the crowded pavement his eyes sought hers, and the wicked triumph
+in them turned her cold. He made no sign of recognition, and she seemed
+as though petrified till the motor had slowly passed.</p>
+
+<p>Then a great weakness came over her, and for a few seconds all
+consciousness of her surroundings went from her. She remembered only
+those evil eyes and the gloating satisfaction with which they had rested
+upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"Ain't you well, miss?" said a voice.</p>
+
+<p>With a start she found a burly young farmer beside her. He looked down
+at her with kindly concern.</p>
+
+<p>"You take my arm," he said. "Which way do you want to go?"</p>
+
+<p>With an effort she told him, and the next moment he was leading her
+rapidly through the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>They reached the inn, and he put her into the bar parlour and went out,
+bellowing for Mrs. Perkiss, whom he knew.</p>
+
+<p>When he finally emerged, after finding the miller's wife, a slim, dark
+man was waiting on the further side of the road. The farmer took no note
+of him, but the watcher saw the farmer, and with swift, cat-like tread
+he followed him.</p>
+
+
+<h3>IX</h3>
+
+<h3>IN FEAR OF THE ENEMY</h3>
+
+
+<p>All the way home the memory of those eyes haunted Ernestine. All the way
+home her ears were straining to catch the hoot of a motor-horn and the
+rush of wheels behind them.</p>
+
+<p>But no motor overtook them. Nothing happened to disturb the smiling
+peace of that summer afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Back in her little room under the thatch she flung herself face
+downwards on the bed, and lay tense. What should she do? What should she
+do? He had seen her. He was on her track. Sooner or later he would run
+her to earth. And she&mdash;what could she do?</p>
+
+<p>For a long while she lay there, too horror-stricken to move, while over
+and over again there passed through her aching brain the memory of those
+eyes. Did he guess that she had come there to hide from him? Had he been
+hunting her for long?</p>
+
+<p>She moved at length, sat up stiffly, and felt something crackle inside
+her dress. With a little start she realised what it was, and drew forth
+Rivington's letter.</p>
+
+<p>A great sigh broke from her as she opened and read it once again.</p>
+
+<p>A little later she ran swiftly downstairs with a folded paper in her
+hand. Out into the blinding sunshine, bareheaded, she ran, never pausing
+till she turned into the lily-decked garden of the post-office.</p>
+
+<p>She was trembling all over as she handed in her message, but as it
+ticked away a sensation of immense relief stole over her. She went out
+again feeling almost calm.</p>
+
+<p>But that night her terrors came back upon her in ghastly array. She
+could not sleep, and lay listening to every sound. Finally she fell into
+an uneasy doze, from which she started to hear the dog in the yard
+barking furiously. She lay shivering for a while, then crept to her
+window and looked out. The dense shadow of a pine wood across the road
+blotted out the starlight, and all was very dark. It was impossible to
+discern anything. She stood listening intently in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>The dog subsided into a growling monotone, and through the stillness she
+fancied she caught a faint sound, as if some animal were prowling softly
+under the trees. She listened with a thumping heart. Nearer it seemed to
+come, and nearer, and then she heard it no more. A sudden gust stirred
+the pine tops, and a sudden, overmastering panic filled her soul.</p>
+
+<p>With the violence of frenzy she slammed and bolted her window, and made
+a wild spring back to the bed. She burrowed down under the blankets, and
+lay there huddled, not daring to stir for a long, long time.</p>
+
+<p>With the first glimmer of day came relief, but she did not sleep. The
+night's terror had left her nerves too shaken for repose. Yet as the sun
+rose and the farmyard sounds began, as she heard the mill-wheel creak
+and turn and the rush and roar of the water below, common sense came to
+her aid, and she was able to tell herself that her night alarm might
+have been due to nothing more than her own startled imagination.</p>
+
+<p>On the breakfast table she found a card awaiting her, which she seized,
+and read with deepening colour.</p>
+
+<p>"Expect me by the afternoon train. I shall walk from the station.&mdash;K.E."</p>
+
+<p>A feeling of gladness, so intense that it was almost rapture, made her
+blood flow faster. He was coming in answer to her desperate summons. He
+would be with her that very day. She was sure that he would tell her
+what to do.</p>
+
+<p>She read the card several times in the course of the morning, and came
+to the conclusion that it would be only nice of her to walk to meet him.
+The path lay through beech woods. She had gone part of the way with him
+only three days before. Only three days! It seemed like months. She
+looked forward to meeting him again as though he had been an old friend.</p>
+
+<p>She started soon after the early dinner. The afternoon was hot and
+sultry. She was glad to turn from the road into the shade and stillness
+of the woods. The sun-rays slanting downwards through the mazy, golden
+aisles made her think of the afternoon on which she had waited for him
+under the dome of St. Paul's.</p>
+
+<p>The heat as she proceeded became intense. The humming of many insects
+filled the air with a persistent drone. It was summer at its height.</p>
+
+<p>A heavy languor began to possess her. She remembered that she had not
+slept all the previous night. She also recalled the panic that had kept
+her awake, and smiled faintly to herself. She did not feel afraid now
+that Rivington was coming. She even began to think she had been rather
+foolish, and wondered if he would think so too.</p>
+
+<p>She began to go more slowly. Her feet felt heavier at every step. A few
+yards ahead a golden-brown stream ran babbling through the wood. It was
+close to the path. She would sit down beside it and rest till he
+arrived.</p>
+
+<p>She reached the stream, sank down upon a bed of moss, then found the
+heat intolerable, and began impulsively to loosen her shoes. What if he
+did discover her a second time barefooted? He had not minded before;
+neither had she. And no one else would come that way. He had even lent
+her his handkerchief to dry her feet. Perhaps he would again.</p>
+
+<p>Once more a strictly private little smile twitched the corners of her
+mouth. She slipped off her stockings and plunged her tired feet into the
+cool, running water.</p>
+
+<p>Leaning back against a tree-trunk she closed her eyes. An exquisite
+sense of well-being stole over her. He would not be here yet. What did
+it matter if she dozed? The bubbling of the water lulled her. She rested
+her feet upon a sunny brown stone. She turned her cheek upon her arm.</p>
+
+<p>And in her sleep she heard the thudding of a horse's hoofs, and dreamed
+that her knight errant was close at hand.</p>
+
+
+<h3>X</h3>
+
+<h3>THE TIGER'S PREY</h3>
+
+
+<p>With a start she opened her eyes. Some one was drawing near. It must be
+later than she had thought.</p>
+
+<p>Again she heard the tramp of a horse's feet, and hastily peered round
+the trunk of her tree. Surely he had not come on horseback! It must be a
+stranger. She cast a hasty glance towards her shoes, and gathered her
+feet under her.</p>
+
+<p>A few yards away she caught sight of a horse's clean limbs moving in the
+checkered sunlight. Its rider&mdash;her heart gave a sudden, sickening throb
+and stood still. He was riding like a king, with his insolent dark face
+turned to the sun. She stared at him for one wild moment, then shrank
+against her tree. It was possible, it was possible even then, that he
+might pass her by without turning his eyes in her direction.</p>
+
+<p>Nearer he came, and nearer yet. The path wound immediately behind the
+beech tree that sheltered her. He was close to her now. He had reached
+her. She cowered down in breathless terror in the moss, motionless as a
+stone. On went the horse's feet, on without a pause, slow and regular as
+the beat of a drum. He went by her at a walking pace. Surely he had not
+seen her!</p>
+
+<p>She did not dare to lift her head, but it seemed to her that the sound
+of the thudding hoofs died very quickly away. For seconds that seemed
+like hours she crouched there in the afternoon stillness. Then at
+last&mdash;at last&mdash;she ventured to raise herself&mdash;to turn and look.</p>
+
+<p>And in that moment she knew the agony that pierces every nerve with a
+physical anguish in the face of sudden horror. For there, close to her,
+was Dinghra, on foot, not six paces away, and drawing softly nearer.
+There was a faint smile on his face. His eyes were fixed and devilish.</p>
+
+<p>With a gasp she sprang up, and the next moment was running wildly away,
+away, down the forest path, heedless of the rough ground, of the stones
+and roots that tore her bare feet, running like a mad creature, with
+sobbing breath, and limbs that staggered, compel them though she might.</p>
+
+<p>She did not run far. Her flight ended as suddenly as it had begun in a
+violent, headlong fall. A long streamer of bramble had tripped her
+unaccustomed feet. She was conscious for an instant of the horrible pain
+of it as she was flung forward on her hands.</p>
+
+<p>And then came the touch that she dreaded, the sinewy hands lifting her,
+the sinister face looking into hers.</p>
+
+<p>"You should never run away from destiny," said Dinghra softly. "Destiny
+can always catch you up."</p>
+
+<p>She gasped and shuddered. She was shaking all over, too crushed, too
+shattered, for speech.</p>
+
+<p>He set her on her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"We will go back," he said, keeping his arm about her. "You have had a
+pleasant sleep? I am sorry you awoke so soon."</p>
+
+<p>But she stood still, her wild eyes searching the forest depths.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, let me go!" she cried out suddenly. "Oh, do let me go!"</p>
+
+<p>His arm tightened, but still he smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Never again. I have had some trouble to find you, but you are mine now
+for ever&mdash;or at least"&mdash;and the snarl of the beast was in his
+voice&mdash;"for as long as I want you."</p>
+
+<p>She resisted him, striving to escape that ever-tightening arm.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" she cried in an agony. "No! No! No!"</p>
+
+<p>His hold became a vice-like grip. Without a word he forced her back with
+him along the way she had come. She limped as she went, and he noted it
+with a terrible smile.</p>
+
+<p>"It would have been better if you hadn't run away," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do let me go!" she begged again through her white lips. "Why do you
+persecute me like this? I have never done you any harm."</p>
+
+<p>"Except laugh at me," he answered. "But you will never do that again, at
+least."</p>
+
+<p>And then, finding her weight upon him, he stopped and lifted her in his
+arms.</p>
+
+<p>She covered her face with her hands, and he laughed above her head.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a dangerous amusement," he said, "to laugh at Dinghra. There are
+not many who dare. There is not one who goes unpunished."</p>
+
+<p>He bore her back to her resting-place. He set her on her feet and drew
+her hands away, holding her firmly by the wrists.</p>
+
+<p>"Now tell me," he said "it is the last time I shall ever ask you&mdash;will
+you marry me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never!" she cried.</p>
+
+<p>"Be careful!" he broke in warningly. "That is not your answer. Look at
+me! Look into my eyes! Do you think you are wise in giving me such an
+answer as that?"</p>
+
+<p>But she would not meet his eyes. She dared not.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen!" he said. "Your mother has given you to me. She will never
+speak to you again, except as my promised wife. I have sworn to her that
+I will make you accept me. No power on earth can take you from me.
+Ernestine, listen! You are the only woman who ever resisted me, and for
+that I am going to make you what I have never desired to make any woman
+before,&mdash;my wife&mdash;not my servant; my queen&mdash;not my slave. I can give you
+everything under the sun. You will be a princess. You will have wealth,
+jewels such as you have never dreamed of, palaces, servants, honour&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And you!" she cried hysterically. "You!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and me," he said. "But you will have me in one form or another
+whatever your choice. You won't get away from me. You may refuse to
+marry me, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I do!" she burst out wildly. "I do!"</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;" he said again, very deliberately.</p>
+
+<p>And then, compelled by she knew not what, she lifted her eyes to his.
+And all her life she shrank and shuddered at the dread memory of what
+she saw.</p>
+
+<p>For seconds he did not utter a single word. For seconds his eyes held
+hers, arresting, piercing, devouring. She could not escape them. She was
+forced to meet them, albeit with fear and loathing unutterable.</p>
+
+<p>"You see!" he said at last, as though concluding an argument. "You are
+mine! I can do with you exactly as I will&mdash;exactly as I will!" He
+repeated the words almost in a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>But at that she cried out, and began to struggle, like a bird beating
+its wings against the bars of a cage.</p>
+
+<p>His hold became cruel in an instant. He forced her hands behind her,
+holding her imprisoned in his arms. He tilted her head back. His eyes
+shone down into hers like the eyes of a tiger that clutches its prey. He
+quelled her resistance by sheer brutality.</p>
+
+<p>"I have warned you!" he said; and she knew instinctively that he would
+have no mercy.</p>
+
+<p>"How can I marry you?" she gasped in desperation. "I am engaged
+to&mdash;another man!"</p>
+
+<p>She saw his face change. Instantly she knew that she had made a mistake.
+The ferocity in his eyes turned to devilish malice.</p>
+
+<p>"You will marry me yet!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"But you will come to hate me some day!" she cried, clutching at straws.
+"As&mdash;as I hate you to-day!"</p>
+
+<p>His look appalled her, his lips were close to hers.</p>
+
+<p>"If I do," he said, with a fiendish smile, "I shall find a remedy. But
+so long as you hate me, I shall not grow tired of you!"</p>
+
+<p>And with that he suddenly and savagely pressed his lips to hers.</p>
+
+
+<h3>XI</h3>
+
+<h3>THE TIGER'S PUNISHMENT</h3>
+
+
+<p>That single kiss was to Ernestine the climax and zenith of horror. It
+seemed to sear and blister her very soul with an anguish of repulsion
+that would scar her memory for all time. She retained her consciousness,
+but she never knew by what lightning stroke she was set free. She was
+too dazed, too blinded, by her horror to realise. But suddenly the cruel
+grip that had her helpless was gone. A vague confusion swam before her
+eyes. Her knees doubled under her. She sank down in a huddled heap, and
+lay quivering.</p>
+
+<p>There came to her the sound of struggling, the sound of cursing, the
+sound of blows. But, sick and spent, she heeded none of these things,
+till a certain monotony of sound began to drum itself into her senses.
+She came to full understanding to see Dinghra, in the grip of an
+Englishman, being hideously thrashed with his own horsewhip. He was
+quite powerless in that grip, but he would fight to the end, and it
+seemed that the end was not far off. The punishment must have been going
+on for many seconds. For his face was quite livid and streaked with
+blood, his hands groped blindly, beating the air, he staggered at each
+blow.</p>
+
+<p>The whip fell flail-like, with absolute precision and regularity. It
+spared no part of him. His coat was nearly torn off. In one place, on
+the shoulder, the white shirt was exposed, and this also was streaked
+with blood.</p>
+
+<p>Ernestine crouched under the tree and watched. But very soon a new fear
+sprang up within her, a fear that made her collect all her strength for
+action. It was something in that awful, livid face that prompted her.</p>
+
+<p>She struggled stiffly to her feet, later she wondered how, and drew near
+to the two men. The whirling whip continued to descend, but she had no
+fear of that. She came quite close till she was almost under the
+upraised arm. She laid trembling hands upon a grey tweed coat.</p>
+
+<p>"Let him go!" she said very urgently. "Let him go&mdash;while he can!"</p>
+
+<p>Rivington looked down into her white face. He was white himself&mdash;white
+to the lips.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't done with him yet," he said, and he spoke between his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"I know," she said. "I know. But he has had enough. You mustn't kill
+him."</p>
+
+<p>She was strangely calm, and her calmness took effect. Later, she
+wondered at that also.</p>
+
+<p>Rivington jerked the exhausted man upright.</p>
+
+<p>"Go back!" he said to Ernestine. "Go back! I won't kill him!"</p>
+
+<p>She took him at his word, and went back. She heard Rivington speak
+briefly and sternly, and Dinghra mumbled something in reply. She heard
+the shuffling of feet, and knew that Rivington was helping him to walk.</p>
+
+<p>For a little while she watched the two figures, the one supporting the
+other, as they moved slowly away. Dinghra's head was sunk upon his
+breast. He slunk along like a beaten dog. Then the trunk of a tree hid
+them from her sight.</p>
+
+<p>When that happened, Ernestine suffered herself to collapse upon the
+moss, with her head upon her arms.</p>
+
+<p>Lying thus, she presently heard once more the tread of a horse's feet,
+and counted each footfall mechanically. They grew fainter and fainter,
+till at last the forest silence swallowed them, and a great solitude
+seemed to wrap her round.</p>
+
+<p>Minutes passed. She did not stir. Her strength had gone utterly from
+her. Finally there came the sound of a quiet footfall.</p>
+
+<p>Close to her it came, and stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Chirpy!" a quiet voice said.</p>
+
+<p>She tried to move, but could not. She was as one paralysed. She could
+not so much as utter a word.</p>
+
+<p>He knelt down beside her and raised her to a sitting posture, so that
+she leaned against him. Holding her so, he gently rubbed her cheek.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor little Chirpy!" he said. "It's all right!"</p>
+
+<p>At sound of the pity and the tenderness of his voice, something seemed
+to break within her, the awful constriction passed. She hid her face
+upon his arm, and burst into a wild agony of weeping.</p>
+
+<p>He laid his hand upon her head, and kept it there for a while; then as
+her sobbing grew more and more violent, he bent over her.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't cry so, child, for Heaven's sake!" he said earnestly. "It's all
+right, dear; all right. You are perfectly safe!"</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never&mdash;feel safe&mdash;again!" she gasped, between her sobs.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes, you will," he assured her. "You will have me to take care of
+you. I shall not leave you again."</p>
+
+<p>"But the nights!" she cried wildly. "The nights!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" he said. "Hush! There is nothing to cry about. I will take care
+of you at night, too."</p>
+
+<p>She began to grow a little calmer. The assurance of his manner soothed
+her. But for a long time she crouched there shivering, with her face
+hidden, while he knelt beside her and stroked her hair.</p>
+
+<p>At last he moved as though to rise, but on the instant she clutched at
+him with both hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't go! Don't leave me! You said you wouldn't!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not going to, Chirpy," he said. "Don't be afraid!"</p>
+
+<p>But she was afraid, and continued to cling to him very tightly, though
+she would not raise her face.</p>
+
+<p>"Come!" he said gently, at length. "You're better. Wouldn't you like to
+bathe your feet?"</p>
+
+<p>"You will stay with me?" she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to help you down to the stream," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't&mdash;don't carry me!" she faltered.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not! You can walk on this moss if I hold you up."</p>
+
+<p>But she was very reluctant to move.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I don't want you to look at me," she said, at last, with a great
+sob. "I feel such a fright."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be a goose, Chirpy!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>That braced her a little. She dried her tears. She even suffered him to
+raise her to her feet, but she kept her head bent, avoiding his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Look where you are going," said Rivington practically. "Here is my arm.
+You mustn't mind me, you know. Lean hard!"</p>
+
+<p>She accepted his assistance in silence. She was crying still, though she
+strove to conceal the fact. But as she sank down once more on the brink
+of the stream, the sobs broke out afresh, and would not be suppressed.</p>
+
+<p>"I was so happy!" she whispered. "I didn't want him here&mdash;to spoil my
+paradise."</p>
+
+<p>Rivington said nothing. She did not even know if he heard; and if he
+were aware of her tears he gave no sign. He was gently bathing her torn
+feet with his hands.</p>
+
+
+<h3>XII</h3>
+
+<h3>THE KNIGHT ERRANT PLAYS THE GAME</h3>
+
+
+<p>She began to command herself at last, and to be inexpressibly ashamed of
+her weakness. She sat in silence, accepting his ministrations, till
+Rivington proceeded to tear his handkerchief into strips for bandaging
+purposes; then she put out a protesting hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you shouldn't!" she said rather tremulously.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her with his kindly smile.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right, Chirpy. I've got another."</p>
+
+<p>She tried to laugh. It was a valiant effort.</p>
+
+<p>"I know I'm a horrid nuisance to you. It's nice of you to pretend you
+don't mind."</p>
+
+<p>"I never pretend," said Rivington, with a touch of grimness. "Do you
+think you will be able to get your stocking over that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think so."</p>
+
+<p>"Try!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>She tried and succeeded.</p>
+
+<p>"That's better," said Rivington. "Now for the shoes. I can put them on."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like you to," she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>"Knights errant always do that," he assured her. "It's part of the game.
+Come! That's splendid! How does it feel?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think I can bear it," she said, under her breath.</p>
+
+<p>He drew it instantly off again.</p>
+
+<p>"No, you can't. Or, at least, you are not going to. Look here, Chirpy,
+my dear, I think you must let me carry you, anyhow to the caravan. It
+isn't far, and I can fetch you some slippers from the mill from there.
+What? You don't mind, do you? An old friend like me, and a poor relation
+into the bargain?" The blue eyes smiled at her quizzically, and very
+persuasively.</p>
+
+<p>But her white face crimsoned, and she turned it aside.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want you to," she said piteously.</p>
+
+<p>"No, but you'll put up with it!" he urged. "It's too small a thing to
+argue about, and you have too much sense to refuse."</p>
+
+<p>He rose with the words. She looked up at him with quivering lips.</p>
+
+<p>"You wouldn't do it&mdash;if I refused?" she faltered.</p>
+
+<p>The smile went out of his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never do anything against your will," he said. "But I don't
+know how you will get back if I don't."</p>
+
+<p>She pondered this for a moment, then, impulsively as a child, stretched
+up her arms to him.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Knight Errant. You may," she said.</p>
+
+<p>And he bent and lifted her without further words.</p>
+
+<p>They scarcely spoke during that journey. Only once, towards the end of
+it, Ernestine asked him if he were tired, and he scouted the idea with a
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>When they reached the caravan, and he set her down upon the step, she
+thanked him meekly.</p>
+
+<p>"We will have tea," said Rivington, and proceeded to forage for the
+necessaries for this meal in a locker inside the caravan.</p>
+
+<p>He brought out a spirit-lamp and boiled some water. The actual making of
+the tea he relegated to Ernestine.</p>
+
+<p>"A woman does it better than a man," he said.</p>
+
+<p>And while she was thus occupied, he produced cups and saucers, and a tin
+of biscuits, and laid the cloth. Finally, he seated himself on the grass
+below her, and began with evident enjoyment to partake with her of the
+meal thus provided.</p>
+
+<p>When it was over, he washed up, she drying the cups and saucers, and
+striving with somewhat doubtful success to appear normal and
+unconstrained.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked, at the end of this.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not," she answered, and he brought out the briar pipe
+forthwith.</p>
+
+<p>She watched him fill and light it, her chin upon her hand. She was still
+very pale, and the fear had not gone wholly from her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I'm going to talk to you," Rivington announced.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" she said rather faintly.</p>
+
+<p>He lay back with his arms under his head, and stared up through the
+beech boughs to the cloudless evening sky.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you first of all to remember," he said, "that what I said a
+little while ago I meant&mdash;and shall mean for all time. I will never do
+anything, Chirpy, against your will."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke deliberately. He was puffing the smoke upward in long spirals.</p>
+
+<p>"That is quite understood, is it?" he asked, as she did not speak.</p>
+
+<p>"I think so," said Ernestine slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to be quite sure," he said. "Otherwise, what I am going to
+say may startle you."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't frighten me!" she begged, in a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child, I sha'n't frighten you," he rejoined. "You may frighten
+yourself. That is what I am trying to guard against."</p>
+
+<p>Her laugh had a piteous quiver in it.</p>
+
+<p>"You think me very young and foolish, don't you?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>He sat up and looked at her.</p>
+
+<p>"I think," he said, "that you stand in very serious need of someone to
+look after you."</p>
+
+<p>She made a slight, impatient movement.</p>
+
+<p>"Why go over old ground? If you really have any definite suggestion to
+make, why not make it?"</p>
+
+<p>Rivington clasped his hands about his knees. He continued to look at her
+speculatively, his pipe between his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Chirpy," he said, after a moment, "I can't help thinking
+that you would be better off and a good deal happier if you married."</p>
+
+<p>"If I&mdash;married!" Her eyes flashed startled interrogation at him. "If
+I&mdash;married!" she repeated almost fiercely. "I would rather die!"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't suggest that you should marry Dinghra," he pointed out mildly.
+"He is not the only man in the world."</p>
+
+<p>The hot colour rushed up over her face.</p>
+
+<p>"He is the only one that ever wanted me," she said, in a muffled tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite sure of that?" said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer him. She was playing nervously with a straw that she
+had pulled from the floor of the caravan. Her eyes were downcast.</p>
+
+<p>"What about me?" said Rivington. "Think you could put up with me as a
+husband?"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head in silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" he said gently.</p>
+
+<p>Again she shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>He knelt up suddenly beside her, discarding his pipe, and laid his hand
+on hers.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me why not," he said.</p>
+
+<p>A little tremor went through her at his touch. She did not raise her
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"It wouldn't do," she said, her voice very low.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't like me?" he questioned.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I like you. It isn't that."</p>
+
+<p>"Then&mdash;what is it, Chirpy? I believe you are afraid of me," he said half
+quizzically.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not!" she declared, with vehemence. "I'm not such a donkey! No,
+Knight Errant, I'm only afraid for you."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't quite grasp your meaning," he said.</p>
+
+<p>With an effort she explained.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, you don't know me very well&mdash;not nearly so well as I know
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"I know you well enough to be fond of you, Chirpy," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"That is just because you don't know me," she said, her voice quivering
+a little. "You wouldn't like me for long, Knight Errant. Men never do."</p>
+
+<p>"More fools they," said the knight errant, with somewhat unusual
+emphasis. "It's their loss, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a little.</p>
+
+<p>"It's very nice of you to say so, but it doesn't alter the fact.
+Besides&mdash;" She paused.</p>
+
+<p>"Besides&mdash;" said Rivington.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"What about that nice little woman who may turn up some day?"</p>
+
+<p>The humorous corner of Rivington's mouth went up.</p>
+
+<p>"I think she has, Chirpy," he said. "To tell you the honest truth, I've
+been thinking so for some time."</p>
+
+<p>"You really want to marry me?" Ernestine looked him straight in the
+eyes. "It isn't&mdash;only&mdash;a chivalrous impulse?"</p>
+
+<p>He met her look quite steadily.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said quietly; "it isn't&mdash;only&mdash;that."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes fell away from his.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't any money, you know," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind about the money," he answered cheerily. "I have a little,
+enough to keep us from starvation. I can make more. It will do me good
+to work. It's settled, then? You'll have me?"</p>
+
+<p>"If&mdash;if you are sure&mdash;" she faltered. Then impulsively, "Oh, it's
+hateful to feel that I've thrown myself at your head!"</p>
+
+<p>His hand closed upon hers with a restraining pressure.</p>
+
+<p>"You mustn't say those things to me, Chirpy," he said quietly; "they
+hurt me. Now let me tell you my plans. Do you know what I did when I got
+back to town the other day? I went and bought a special marriage
+licence. You see, I wanted to marry you even then, and I hoped that
+before very long I should persuade you to have me. As soon as I got your
+telegram, I went off and purchased a wedding-ring. I hope it will fit.
+But, anyhow, it will serve our present purpose. Will you drive with me
+into Rington to-morrow and marry me there?"</p>
+
+<p>She was listening to him in wide-eyed amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"So soon?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it would save any further trouble," he answered. "But it is
+for you to decide."</p>
+
+<p>"And&mdash;and what should we do afterwards?" she asked, stooping to pick up
+her straw that had fallen to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"That, again, would be for you to decide," he answered. "I would take
+you straight back to your mother if you wished."</p>
+
+<p>She gave a muffled laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I shouldn't want you to do that."</p>
+
+<p>"Or," proceeded Rivington, "I would hire an animal to draw the caravan,
+and we would go for a holiday in the forest. Would it bore you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think so," she said, without looking at him. "I&mdash;I could
+sketch, you know, and you could paint."</p>
+
+<p>"To be sure," he said. "Shall we do that, then?"</p>
+
+<p>She began to split the straw with minute care.</p>
+
+<p>"You think there is no danger of&mdash;Dinghra?" she said, after a moment.</p>
+
+<p>Rivington smiled grimly, and got to his feet. "Not the smallest," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"He might come back," she persisted. "What if&mdash;what if he tried to
+murder you?"</p>
+
+<p>Rivington was coaxing his pipe back to life. He accomplished his object
+before he replied. Then:</p>
+
+<p>"You need not have the faintest fear of that," he said. "Dinghra has had
+the advantage of a public-school education. He has doubtless been
+thrashed before."</p>
+
+<p>"He is vindictive," she objected.</p>
+
+<p>"He may be, but he is shrewd enough to know when the game is up.
+Frankly, Chirpy, I don't think the prospect of pestering you, or even of
+punishing me, will induce him to take the field again after we are
+married. No"&mdash;he smiled down at her&mdash;"I think I have cooled his ardour
+too effectually for that."</p>
+
+<p>She shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never forget it."</p>
+
+<p>He patted her shoulder reassuringly.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you will, Chirpy. Or at least you will place it in the same
+category as the bull incident. You will forget the fright, and remember
+only with kindness the Knight Errant who had the good fortune to pull
+you through."</p>
+
+<p>She reached up and squeezed his hand, still without looking at him.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall always do that," she said softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then that's settled," said Rivington in a tone of quiet satisfaction.</p>
+
+
+<h3>XIII</h3>
+
+<h3>THE KNIGHT ERRANT VICTORIOUS</h3>
+
+
+<p>"On the 21st of June, quite privately, at the Parish Church, Rington,
+Hampshire, by the Vicar of the Parish, Cecil Mordaunt Rivington to
+Ernestine, fourth daughter of Lady Florence Cardwell."</p>
+
+<p>Cecil Mordaunt Rivington, with his pipe occupying one corner of his
+mouth, and the other cocked at a distinctly humorous angle, sat on the
+step of the caravan on the evening of the day succeeding that of his
+marriage, and read the announcement thereof in the paper which he had
+just fetched from the post-office.</p>
+
+<p>There was considerable complacence in his attitude. A cheerful fire of
+sticks burned near, over which a tripod supported a black pot.</p>
+
+<p>The sunset light filtered golden through the forest. It was growing
+late.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he turned and called over his shoulder. "I say, Chirpy!"</p>
+
+<p>Ernestine's voice answered from the further end of the caravan that was
+shut off from the rest by curtains.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm just coming. What is it? Is the pot all right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid. Be quick! I've something to show you."</p>
+
+<p>The curtains parted, and Ernestine came daintily forth.</p>
+
+<p>Rivington barely glanced at her. He was too intent upon the paper in his
+hand. She stopped behind him, and bent to read the paragraph he pointed
+out.</p>
+
+<p>After a pause, he turned to view its effect, and on the instant his
+eyebrows went up in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>She was dressed like a gipsy in every detail, even to the scarlet
+kerchief on her head. She drew back a little, colouring under his
+scrutiny.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you approve," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove, you look ripping!" said Rivington. "How in the world did you
+do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I made Mrs. Perkiss help me. We managed it between us. It was just a
+fancy of mine to fill the idle hours. I didn't think I should ever have
+the courage to wear it."</p>
+
+<p>He reached up his hand to her as he sat.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, you make a charming gipsy," he said. "You will have to sit for
+me."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed, touched his hand with a hint of shyness, and stepped down
+beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"How is the supper getting on? Have you looked at it?"</p>
+
+<p>He laid aside his paper to prepare for the meal. To her evident relief
+he made no further comment at the moment upon her appearance. But when
+supper was over and he was smoking his evening pipe, his eyes dwelt upon
+her continually as she flitted to and fro, having declined his
+assistance, and set everything in order after the meal.</p>
+
+<p>The sun had disappeared, and a deep dusk was falling upon the forest.
+Ernestine moved, elf-like, in the light of the sinking fire. She took no
+notice of the man who watched her, being plainly too busy to heed his
+attention.</p>
+
+<p>But her duties were over at last, and she turned from the ruddy
+firelight and moved, half reluctantly it seemed, towards him. She
+reached him, and stood before him.</p>
+
+<p>"I've done now," she said. "You can rake out the fire. Good-night!"</p>
+
+<p>He took the little hand in his.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you tired, Chirpy?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I don't think so." She sounded slightly doubtful.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you stay with me for a little?" he said. She stood silent. "I was
+horribly lonely after you went to bed last night," he urged gently.</p>
+
+<p>She uttered a funny little sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure you must have been horribly uncomfortable too," she said. "Did
+you lie awake?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I wasn't uncomfortable. I've slept in the open heaps of times
+before. I was just&mdash;lonely."</p>
+
+<p>She laid her hand lightly on his shoulder as she stood beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"It was rather awesome," she admitted.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you were lonely too," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a little, and said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>He took his pipe from his mouth and laid it tenderly upon the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I tell you something, Chirpy?"</p>
+
+<p>Her hand began to rub up and down uneasily on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" she said under her breath.</p>
+
+<p>He looked up at her in the falling darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel exactly as you felt over that squirrel," he said. "Do you
+remember? You wanted to kiss it, but the little fool didn't understand."</p>
+
+<p>A slight quiver went through Ernestine. Again rather breathlessly, she
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Some little fools don't," she said.</p>
+
+<p>He moved and very gently slipped his arm about her. "I didn't mean to
+put it quite like that," he said. "You will pardon my clumsiness, won't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>She did not resist his arm, but neither did she yield to it. Her hand
+still fidgeted upon his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you wouldn't be so horribly nice to me," she said suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Chirpy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said with vehemence. "Why don't you take what you want? I&mdash;I
+should respect you then."</p>
+
+<p>"But I want you to love me," he answered quietly.</p>
+
+<p>She drew a quick breath, and became suddenly quite rigid, intensely
+still.</p>
+
+<p>His arm grew a little closer about her.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you know I am in love with you, Chirpy?" he asked her very
+softly. "Am I such a dunderhead that I haven't made that plain?"</p>
+
+<p>"Are you?" she said, a sharp catch in her voice. "Are you?" Abruptly she
+stooped to him. "Knight Errant," she said, and the words fell swift and
+passionate, "would you have really wanted to marry me&mdash;anyway?"</p>
+
+<p>His face was upturned to hers. He could feel her breathing, sharp and
+short, upon his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," he said, "I have wanted to marry you ever since that
+afternoon you met me in St. Paul's."</p>
+
+<p>He would have risen with the words, but she made a quick movement
+downwards to prevent him, and suddenly she was on her knees before him
+with her arms about his neck.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm so glad you told me," she whispered tremulously. "I'm so glad."</p>
+
+<p>He gathered her closely to him. His lips were against her forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"It makes all the difference, dear, does it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she whispered back, clinging faster. "Just all the difference in
+the world, because&mdash;because it was that afternoon&mdash;I began&mdash;to want&mdash;you
+too."</p>
+
+<p>And there in the darkness, with the dim forest all about them, she
+turned her lips to meet her husband's first kiss.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_Question_of_Trust" id="A_Question_of_Trust"></a>A Question of Trust</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+<p>Pierre Dumaresq stood gazing out to the hard blue line of the horizon
+with a frown between his brows. The glare upon the water was intense,
+but he stared into it with fixed, unflinching eyes, unconscious of
+discomfort.</p>
+
+<p>He held a supple riding-switch in his hands, at which his fingers
+strained and twisted continually, as though somewhere in the inner man
+there burned a fierce impatience. But his dark face was as immovable as
+though it had been carved in bronze. A tropical sun had made him even
+darker than Nature had intended him to be, a fact to which those fixed
+eyes testified, for they shone like steel in the sunlight, in curious
+contrast to his swarthy skin. His hair was black, cropped close about a
+bullet head, which was set on his broad shoulders with an arrogance that
+gave him a peculiarly aggressive air. The narrow black moustache he wore
+emphasised rather than concealed the thin straight line of mouth.
+Plainly a fighting man this, and one, moreover, accustomed to hold his
+own.</p>
+
+<p>At the striking of a clock in the room behind him he turned as though a
+voice had spoken, and left the stone balcony on which he had been
+waiting. His spurs rang as he stepped into the room behind it. The floor
+was uncarpeted, and shone like ebony.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced around him as one unfamiliar with his surroundings. It was a
+large apartment, and lofty, but it contained very little furniture&mdash;a
+couch, two or three chairs, a writing-table; on the walls, several
+strangely shaped weapons; on the mantelpiece a couple of foils.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled as his look fell upon these, and, crossing the room, he took
+one of them up, and tested it between his hands.</p>
+
+<p>At the quiet opening of the door he wheeled, still holding it. A woman
+stood a moment upon the threshold; then slowly entered. She was little
+more than a girl but the cold dignity of her demeanour imparted to her
+the severity of more advanced years. Her face was like marble, white,
+pure, immobile; but there was a touch of pathos about the eyes. They
+were deeply shadowed, and looked as if they had watched&mdash;or wept&mdash;for
+many hours.</p>
+
+<p>Dumaresq bowed in the brief English fashion, instantly straightening
+himself with a squaring of his broad shoulders that were already so
+immensely square that they made his height seem inconsiderable.</p>
+
+<p>She gravely inclined her head in response. She did not invite him to sit
+down, and he remained where he was, with his fierce eyes unwaveringly
+upon her.</p>
+
+<p>In the middle of the room, full three yards from him, she paused, and
+deliberately met his scrutiny.</p>
+
+<p>"You wished to see me, Monsieur Dumaresq?" she said in English.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Dumaresq. He turned, and laid the foil back upon the
+mantelpiece behind him; then calmly crossed the intervening space, and
+stood before her. "I am grateful to you for granting me an interview,
+mademoiselle," he said. "I am aware that you have done so against your
+will."</p>
+
+<p>There was something of a challenge in the words, but she did not seem to
+hear it. She made answer in a slow, quiet voice that held neither
+antagonism nor friendliness.</p>
+
+<p>"I supposed that you had some suggestion to make, monsieur, which it was
+my duty to hear."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," said Dumaresq, still narrowly observing her. "Well, you are
+right. I have a suggestion to make, one which I beg, for your own sake,
+that you will cordially consider."</p>
+
+<p>Before the almost brutal directness of his look her own eyes slowly
+sank. A very faint tinge of colour crept over her pallor, but she made
+no signs of flinching.</p>
+
+<p>"What is your suggestion, monsieur?" she quietly asked him.</p>
+
+<p>He did not instantly reply. Perhaps he had not altogether expected the
+calm question. She showed no impatience, but she would not again meet
+his eyes. In silence she waited.</p>
+
+<p>At length abruptly he began to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you," he asked, "given any thought to your position here? Have you
+made any plans for yourself in the event of a rising?"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyelids quivered a little, but she did not raise them.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not think," she said, her voice very low, "that the time has yet
+come for making plans."</p>
+
+<p>Dumaresq threw back his head with a movement that seemed to indicate
+either impatience or surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"You are living on the edge of a volcano," he told her, with grim force;
+"and at any moment you may be overwhelmed. Have you never faced that
+yet? Haven't you yet begun to realise that Maritas is a hotbed of
+scoundrels&mdash;the very scum and rabble of creation&mdash;blackguards whom their
+own countries have, for the most part, refused to tolerate&mdash;some of them
+half-breeds, all of them savages? Haven't you yet begun to ask yourself
+what you may expect from these devils when they take the law into their
+own hands? I tell you, mademoiselle, it may happen this very night. It
+may be happening now!"</p>
+
+<p>She raised her eyes at that&mdash;dark eyes that gleamed momentarily and were
+as swiftly lowered. When she spoke, her low voice held a thrill of
+scorn.</p>
+
+<p>"Not now, monsieur," she said. "To-night&mdash;possibly! But not now&mdash;not
+without you to lead them!"</p>
+
+<p>Pierre Dumaresq made a slight movement. It could not have been called a
+menace, though it was in a fashion suggestive of violence
+suppressed&mdash;the violence of the baited bull not fully roused to the
+charge.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not wise, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She answered him in a voice that quivered, in spite of her obvious
+effort to control it.</p>
+
+<p>"Nor am I altogether a fool, monsieur. Your sympathies are well known.
+The revolutionists have looked to you to lead them as long as I have
+known Maritas."</p>
+
+<p>"That may be, mademoiselle," he sternly responded. "But it is possible,
+is it not, that they may look in vain?"</p>
+
+<p>Again swiftly her glance flashed upwards.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it possible?" she breathed.</p>
+
+<p>He did not deign to answer.</p>
+
+<p>"I have not come to discuss my position," he said curtly, "but yours.
+What are you going to do, mademoiselle? How do you propose to escape?"</p>
+
+<p>She was white now, white to the lips; but she did not shrink.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg that you will not concern yourself on my account," she said
+proudly. "I shall no doubt find a means of escape if I need it."</p>
+
+<p>"Where, mademoiselle?" There was something dogged in the man's voice,
+his eyes were relentless in their determination. "Are you intending to
+look to your stepfather for protection?"</p>
+
+<p>Again, involuntarily almost, she raised her eyes, but they held no fear.</p>
+
+<p>"No, monsieur," she responded coldly. "I shall find a better way than
+that."</p>
+
+<p>"How, mademoiselle?"</p>
+
+<p>The brief question sounded like a threat. She stiffened as she heard it,
+and stood silent.</p>
+
+<p>"How, mademoiselle?" he said again.</p>
+
+<p>She made a slight gesture of protest.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur, it is no one's concern but my own."</p>
+
+<p>"And mine," he said stubbornly.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"No, monsieur."</p>
+
+<p>"And mine," he repeated with emphasis, "since I presume to make it so.
+You refuse to answer me merely because you know as well as I do that you
+are caught in a trap from which you are powerless to release yourself.
+And now listen to me. There is a way out&mdash;only one way,
+mademoiselle&mdash;and if you are wise you will take it, without delay. There
+is only one man in Maritas who can save you. So far as I know, there is
+only one man willing to attempt it. That man holds you already in the
+hollow of his hand. You will be wise to make terms with him while you
+can."</p>
+
+<p>His tone was curiously calm, almost cynical. His eyes were still fixed
+unswervingly upon her face. They beat down the haughty surprise with
+which for a few seconds she encountered them.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mademoiselle," he resumed quietly, as though she had spoken. "He
+is a man whom you despise from the bottom of your soul; but for all
+that, he is not wholly despicable. Nor is he incapable of deserving your
+trust if you will bestow it upon him. It is all a question of trust." He
+smiled grimly at the word. "Whatever you expect from him, that you will
+receive in full measure. He does not disappoint his friends&mdash;or his
+enemies."</p>
+
+<p>He paused. She was listening with eyes downcast, but her face was a
+very mask of cold disdain.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur," she said, with stately deliberation, "I do
+not&mdash;wholly&mdash;understand you. But it would be wasting your time and my
+own to ask you to explain. As I said before, in the event of a crisis I
+can secure my own safety."</p>
+
+<p>"Nevertheless," said Pierre Dumaresq with a deliberation even greater
+than her own, "I will explain, since a clear understanding seems to me
+advisable. I am asking you to marry me, Mademoiselle Stephanie, in order
+to ensure your safety. It is practically your only alternative now, and
+it must be taken at once. I shall know how to protect my wife. Marry me,
+and I will take you out of the city to my home on the other side of the
+island. My yacht is there in readiness, and escape at any time would be
+easy."</p>
+
+<p>"Escape, monsieur!" Sharply she broke in upon him. Her coldness was all
+gone in a sudden flame of indignation kindled by the sheer arrogance of
+his bearing. "Escape from whom&mdash;from what?"</p>
+
+<p>He was silent an instant, almost as if disconcerted. Then:</p>
+
+<p>"Escape from your enemies, mademoiselle," he rejoined sternly. "Escape
+from the mercy of the mob, which is all you can expect if you stay
+here."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes flashed over him in a single, searing glance of the most utter,
+the most splendid contempt. Then:</p>
+
+<p>"You are more than kind, Monsieur Dumaresq," she said. "But your
+suggestion does not recommend itself to me. In short, I should
+prefer&mdash;the mercy of the mob."</p>
+
+<p>The man's brows met ferociously. His hands clenched. He almost looked
+for the moment as though he would strike her. But she did not flinch
+before him, and very slowly the tension passed. Yet his eyes shone
+terribly upon her as a sword-blade that is flashed in the sunlight.</p>
+
+<p>"A strange preference, mademoiselle," he remarked at length, turning to
+pick up his riding-switch. "Possibly you may change your mind&mdash;before it
+is too late."</p>
+
+<p>"Never!" she answered proudly.</p>
+
+<p>And Pierre Dumaresq laughed&mdash;a sudden, harsh laugh, and turned to go. It
+was only what he had expected, after all, but it galled him none the
+less. He uttered no threat of any sort; only at the door he stood for an
+instant and looked back at her. And the woman's heart contracted within
+her as though her blood had turned to ice.</p>
+
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<p>When she was alone, when his departing footsteps had ceased to echo
+along the corridor without, Mademoiselle Stephanie drew a long,
+quivering breath and moved to a chair by the window. She sank into it
+with the abandonment of a woman at the end of her strength, and sat
+passive with closed eyes.</p>
+
+<p>For three years now she had lived in this turbulent island of Maritas.
+For three years she had watched discontent gradually merge into
+rebellion and anarchy. And now she knew that at last the end was near.</p>
+
+<p>Her stepfather, the Governor, held his post under the French Government,
+but France at that time was too occupied with matters nearer home to
+spare much attention for the little island in the Atlantic and its
+seething unrest. De Rochefort was considered a capable man, and
+certainly if treachery and cruelty could have upheld his authority he
+would have maintained his ascendency without difficulty. But the
+absinthe demon had gripped him with resistless strength, and all his
+shrewdness had long since been drained away.</p>
+
+<p>Day by day he plunged deeper into the vice that was destroying him, and
+Stephanie could but stand by and watch the gradual gathering of a storm
+that was bound to overwhelm them both.</p>
+
+<p>There was no love between them. They were bound together by circumstance
+alone. She had gone to the place to be with her dying mother, and had
+remained there at that mother's request. Madame de Rochefort's belief in
+her husband had never been shaken, and, dying, she had left her English
+daughter in his care.</p>
+
+<p>Stephanie had accepted a position that there was no one else to fill,
+and then had begun the long martyrdom that, she now saw, could have only
+one ending. She and the Governor were doomed. Already the great wave of
+revolution towered above them. Very soon it would burst and sweep both
+away into the terrible vortex of destruction.</p>
+
+<p>It was only of late that she had come to realise this, and the horror of
+the awakening still at times had power to appal her. For she knew she
+was utterly unprotected. She had tried in vain to rouse the Governor to
+see the ever-growing danger, had striven desperately to open his eyes to
+the unmistakable signs of the coming change. He had laughed at her at
+first, and later, when she had implored him to resign his post, he had
+brutally refused.</p>
+
+<p>She had never approached him again on the matter, seeing the futility of
+argument; but on that selfsame day she had provided herself with a means
+of escape which could not fail her when the last terrible moment
+arrived. Flight she never contemplated. It would have been an utter
+impossibility. She was without friends, without money. Her relations in
+England were to her as beings in another sphere. She had known them in
+her childhood, but they had since dropped out of her existence. The only
+offer of help that had reached her was that which she had just rejected
+from the man whom, of all others, she most hated and desired to avoid.</p>
+
+<p>She shivered suddenly and violently as she recalled the interview. Was
+it possible that she feared him as well? She had always disliked him,
+conscious of something in his manner that perpetually excited her
+antagonism. She had felt his lynx eyes watching her continually
+throughout the bitter struggle, and she had known always that he was
+watching for her downfall.</p>
+
+<p>He was the richest man in the island, and as such his influence was
+considerable. He had not yet made common cause with the revolutionary
+party, but it was generally felt that his sympathies were on their side,
+and it was in him that the majority hoped to find a leader when the time
+for rebellion should be ripe. He had never committed himself to do so,
+but no one on either side doubted his intentions, Mademoiselle
+Stephanie, as every one called her, least of all.</p>
+
+<p>She had been accustomed to meeting him fairly often, though he had never
+been a very frequent guest at the palace. Perhaps he divined her
+aversion, or perhaps&mdash;and this was the more likely supposition&mdash;his
+hatred of the Governor debarred him from enjoying his hospitality.</p>
+
+<p>He was a man of fierce independence and passionate temperament,
+possessing withal a dogged tenacity that she always ascribed to the fact
+that he was born of an English mother. But she had never before that day
+credited him with the desire to exercise a personal influence in her
+life. She had avoided him by instinct, and till that day he had always
+seemed to acquiesce.</p>
+
+<p>His offer of marriage had been utterly unexpected. Regarding him as she
+did, it seemed to her little short of an insult. She hardly knew what
+motive to ascribe to him for it; but circumstances seemed to point to
+one, ambition. No doubt he thought that she might prove of use to him
+when he stepped into the Governor's place.</p>
+
+<p>Well, he had his answer&mdash;a very emphatic one. He could scarcely fail to
+take her at her word. She smiled faintly to herself even while she
+shivered, as she recalled the scarcely suppressed fury with which he had
+received his dismissal. She was glad that she had managed to pierce
+through that immaculate armour of self-complacence just once. She had
+not been woman otherwise.</p>
+
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<p>An intense stillness brooded over the city. The night was starless, the
+sea black as ink. Stephanie stood alone in the darkness of her balcony,
+and listened to the silence.</p>
+
+<p>Seven days had elapsed since her interview with Pierre Dumaresq&mdash;seven
+days of horrible, nerve-racking suspense, of anguished foreboding, of
+ever-creeping, leaden-footed despair. And now at last, though the
+suspense still held her, she knew that the end had come. Only that
+evening, as her carriage had been turning in at the palace gates, a bomb
+had been flung under the wheels. By some miracle it had not exploded.
+She had passed on unharmed.</p>
+
+<p>But the ghastly incident was to her as the sounding of her own
+death-knell. Standing there with her face to the sea, she was telling
+herself that she would never see the daylight again. The very soldiers
+that guarded them were revolutionists at heart. They were only waiting,
+so she believed, for a strong man's word of command to throw open the
+palace doors to frenzied murderers.</p>
+
+<p>No sound came up to her from the motionless sea, no faintest echo of
+waves upon the shore. The stillness hung like a weight upon the senses.
+There was something sinister about it, something vaguely terrible. Yet,
+as she stood there waiting, she was not afraid. Something deeper than
+fear was in her heart. Pulsing through and through her like an electric
+current was a deep and passionate revolt against the fate that awaited
+her.</p>
+
+<p>She could not have said whence it came, this sudden, wild rebellion that
+tore her quivering heart, but it possessed her to the exclusion of all
+besides. She had told herself a hundred times before that death, when it
+came, would be welcome. Yet, now that death was so near her, she longed
+with all her soul to live. She yearned unspeakably to flee away from
+this evil place, to go out into the wide spaces of the earth and to feel
+the sunshine that as yet had never touched her life.</p>
+
+<p>They thought her cold and proud, these people who hated her; but could
+they have seen the tears that rolled down her face that night there
+might have been some among them to pity her. But she was the victim of
+circumstance, bound and helpless, and, though her woman's heart might
+agonise, there was none to know.</p>
+
+<p>A sudden sound in the night&mdash;a sharp sound like the crack of a whip, but
+louder, more menacing, more nerve-piercing. She turned, every muscle
+tense, and listened with bated breath.</p>
+
+<p>It had not come from the garden below her. The silence hung there like a
+pall. Stay! What was that? The sound of a movement on the terrace under
+her balcony&mdash;a muffled, stealthy sound.</p>
+
+<p>There was no sentry there, she knew. The sentries on that side of the
+palace were posted at the great iron gates that shut off the garden from
+the road which ran along the shore to the fortress above.</p>
+
+<p>A spasm of fear, sharp as physical pain, ran through her. She stepped
+quickly back into the room; but there she stopped, stopped deliberately
+to wrestle with the terror which had swooped so suddenly upon her. She
+had maintained her self-control admirably a few hours before in the face
+of frightful danger, but now in this awful silence it threatened to
+desert her. Desperately, determinedly, she brought it back inch by inch,
+till the panic in her vanished and her heart began to beat more bravely.</p>
+
+<p>She went at length and opened the door that led into the long corridor
+outside her apartments. The place was deserted. The silence hung like
+death. She stood a moment, gathering her courage, then passed out. She
+must ascertain if the Governor were in his room, and warn him&mdash;if he
+would be warned.</p>
+
+<p>She had nearly traversed the length of the corridor when again the
+silence was rent suddenly and terribly by that sound that was like the
+crack of a whip. She stopped short, all the blood racing back to her
+heart. She knew it now beyond a doubt. She had known it before in her
+secret soul. It was the report of a rifle in the palace square.</p>
+
+<p>As she stood irresolute, listening with straining nerves, another sound
+began to grow out of the night, gathering strength with every instant, a
+long, fierce roar that resembled nothing that she had ever heard, yet
+which she knew instinctively for what it was&mdash;the raging tumult of an
+angry crowd. It was like the yelling of a thousand demons.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly it swelled to an absolute pandemonium of sound, and she shrank
+appalled. The sudden, paralysing conviction flashed upon her that the
+palace had been deserted by its guards and was in the hands of
+murderers. She seemed to hear them swarming everywhere, unopposed, yet
+lusting for blood, while she, a defenceless woman, stood cowering
+against a door.</p>
+
+<p>Sheer physical horror seized upon her. The mercy of the mob! The mercy
+of the mob! The words ran red-hot in her brain. She knew well what she
+might expect from them. They would tear her limb from limb.</p>
+
+<p>She could not face it. She must escape. Even now surely she could
+escape. Back in her room, only the length of the corridor away, was
+deliverance. Surely she could reach it in time! Like a hunted creature
+she gathered herself together, and, turning, fled along the way she had
+come.</p>
+
+<p>She rushed at length, panting, into her room, and, without a pause or
+glance around, fled into the bedroom beyond. It was here, it was here
+that her deliverance lay, safe hidden in a secret drawer.</p>
+
+<p>The place was in darkness save for the light that streamed after her
+through the open door. Shaking in every limb, near to fainting, she
+groped her way across, found&mdash;almost fell against&mdash;her little
+writing-table, and sank upon her knees before it&mdash;for the moment too
+spent to move.</p>
+
+<p>But a slight sound that seemed to come from near at hand aroused her.
+She started up in a fresh panic, pulled out a drawer, that fell with a
+crash from her trembling hands, and began to feel behind for a secret
+spring. Oh, she had been a fool, a fool to hide it so securely! She
+would never find it in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, groping, her quivering fingers soon discovered that which
+they sought. The secret slide opened and she felt for what lay beyond. A
+moment later she was clasping tightly a little silver flask.</p>
+
+<p>And then, with deliverance actually within her hold, she paused.
+Kneeling there in the darkness she strove to collect her thoughts, that
+she might not die in panic. It was not death that she feared just then.
+She knew that it would come to her swiftly, she believed painlessly. But
+she would not die before she need. She would wait a little. Perhaps when
+the wild tumult at her heart had subsided she would be able to pray, not
+for deliverance from death&mdash;there could be no alternative now&mdash;but for
+peace.</p>
+
+<p>So, kneeling alone, she waited; and presently, growing calmer, removed
+the top of the flask so that she might be ready.</p>
+
+<p>Seconds passed. Her nerves were growing steadier; the mad gallop of her
+heart was slackening.</p>
+
+<p>She leaned her head on her hand and closed her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>And then, all in a moment, fear seized her again&mdash;the sudden
+consciousness of some one near her, some one watching. With a gasp she
+started to her feet, and on the instant there came the click of the
+electric switch by the door, and the room was flooded with light.</p>
+
+<p>Dazzled, almost blinded, she stared across the intervening space, and
+met the steely, relentless eyes of Pierre Dumaresq!</p>
+
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<p>She stood motionless, staring, as one dazed. He, without apology or word
+of any sort, strode straight forward. His face expressed stern
+determination, naught else.</p>
+
+<p>But ere he reached her she awoke to action, stepping sharply backwards
+so that the table was between them. He came to a stand perforce in front
+of it, and looked her full and piercingly in the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Mademoiselle," he said, and his voice was so curt that it sounded
+brutal, "you must come at once. The palace is in the hands of murderers.
+The Governor has been assassinated. In a few seconds more they will be
+at your door. Come!"</p>
+
+<p>She recoiled from him with a face of horror.</p>
+
+<p>"With you, monsieur? Never!" she cried.</p>
+
+<p>He laid his hand upon the table and leaned forward.</p>
+
+<p>"With me, yes," he said, speaking rapidly, yet with lips that scarcely
+seemed to move. "I have come for you, and I mean to take you. Be wise,
+Mademoiselle Stephanie! Come quietly!"</p>
+
+<p>She scarcely heard him. Frenzy had gripped her&mdash;wild, unreasoning,
+all-mastering frenzy. The supreme moment had come for her, and, with a
+face that was like a death-mask, she raised the silver flask to her
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>But no drop of its contents ever touched them, for in that instant
+Pierre vaulted the intervening table and hurled himself upon her. The
+flask flew from her hand and spun across the room, falling she knew not
+where; while she herself was caught in the man's arms and held in a grip
+like iron.</p>
+
+<p>She struggled fiercely to free herself, but for many seconds she
+struggled in vain. Then, just as her strength was beginning to leave
+her, he abruptly set her free.</p>
+
+<p>"Come!" he said. "There is no time for childish folly. Find a cloak, and
+we will go."</p>
+
+<p>His tone was peremptory, but it held no anger. Turning from her, he
+walked deliberately away into the outer room.</p>
+
+<p>She sank back trembling against the wall, nearer to collapse than she
+had ever been before. But the momentary respite had its effect, and
+instinctively she began to gather herself together for fresh effort. He
+had wrested her deliverance from her, but she would never accept what he
+offered in exchange. She would never escape with his man. She would
+sooner&mdash;yes, a thousand times sooner&mdash;face the mercy of the mob.</p>
+
+<p>"Mademoiselle Stephanie!" Impatiently his voice came to her from the
+farther room. "Are you coming, or am I to fetch you?"</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer. A sudden wild idea had formed in her brain. If she
+could slip past him&mdash;if she could reach the outer door&mdash;he would never
+overtake her on the corridor. But she must be brave, she must be subtle,
+she must watch her opportunity.</p>
+
+<p>With some semblance of composure she took out a long travelling-cloak,
+and walked into the room in which he awaited her. With a start of
+surprise, she saw him standing by the open window.</p>
+
+<p>"This way, mademoiselle," he said curtly; and she realised that he must
+have entered from the garden.</p>
+
+<p>"One moment, monsieur," she returned, and quietly crossed the room to
+the door at the other end.</p>
+
+<p>It was closed. It must have swung to behind her, for she did not
+remember closing it.</p>
+
+<p>He made no attempt to stop her. He could not surely have guessed her
+intention, for he remained motionless by the window, watching her. Her
+heart was thumping as though it would choke her, but yet she controlled
+herself. He must not suspect till the door was open, till the passage
+was clear before her, and pursuit of no avail.</p>
+
+<p>She reached out a quivering hand and grasped the ebony knob. Now&mdash;now
+for the last and greatest effort of her life! Sharply she turned the
+handle, pulled at it, wrenched it with frantic force, finally turned
+from it and confronted the man at the window with eyes that were hunted,
+desperate.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me go!" she gasped hoarsely. "How dare you keep me here against my
+will?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have no desire to keep you here, mademoiselle," he answered. "I am
+only waiting to take you away."</p>
+
+<p>"I refuse to go with you!" she cried. "I would rather die a thousand
+times!"</p>
+
+<p>His brows contracted into a single grim line. He left the window and
+came towards her.</p>
+
+<p>But at his action she sprang away like a mad thing, dodged him, avoided
+him, then leapt suddenly upon a chair and snatched a rapier from a group
+of swords arranged in a circle upon the wall. The light fell full upon
+her ashen face and eyes of horror. She was beside herself.</p>
+
+<p>All her instincts urged her to resistance. She had always shrunk from
+this man. If she could only hold him at bay for a little&mdash;if she could
+only resist long enough&mdash;surely she heard the feet of the murderers upon
+the corridor already! It would not take them long to batter down the
+door and take her life!</p>
+
+<p>As she sprang to the ground again, Pierre spoke. The frown had gone from
+his face; it wore a faint, ironical smile. His eyes, alert, unblinking,
+marked her every movement as the eyes of a lynx upon its prey. He did
+not appear in the least disconcerted. There was even a sort of terrible
+patience in his attitude, as though he already saw the end of the
+struggle.</p>
+
+<p>"Would it not be wiser, mademoiselle," he said, "to reserve your steel
+for an enemy?"</p>
+
+<p>She met his piercing look for an instant as she compelled her white lips
+to answer. "You are the worst enemy that I have."</p>
+
+<p>He threw back his head with an arrogant gesture very characteristic of
+him. "By your own choice, mademoiselle," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she flung back passionately. "I prefer you as an enemy."</p>
+
+<p>He laughed at that&mdash;a fiendish, scoffing laugh that made her shrink in
+every nerve. Then, with unmoved composure, he walked to the mantelpiece
+and took up one of the foils that lay there.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," he said quietly, "since you are determined to fight me, so be it!
+But when you are beaten, Mademoiselle Stephanie, do not ask for mercy!"</p>
+
+<p>But she drew back sharply from his advance. "Take one of those rapiers,"
+she said.</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head, still with that mocking smile upon his lips. "This
+will serve my purpose better," he said. "Are you ready, mademoiselle? On
+guard!"</p>
+
+<p>And with that his weapon crossed hers. She knew his purpose the moment
+she encountered it. It was written in every grim line of his
+countenance. He meant the conflict to be very short.</p>
+
+<p>She was no novice in the art of fencing, but she was no match for him.
+Moreover, she could not meet the pitiless eyes that stared straight into
+hers. They distracted her. They terrified her. Yet every moment seemed
+to her to be something gained. Through all the wild chaos of her
+overstrung nerves she was listening, listening desperately, for the
+sound of feet outside the door. If she could only withstand him for a
+few short seconds! If only her strength would last!</p>
+
+<p>But she was nearing exhaustion, and she knew it. Her brain had begun to
+swim. She saw him in a blur before her quivering vision. The hand that
+grasped the rapier was too numbed to obey her behests. Suddenly there
+came a tumult in the corridor without&mdash;a hoarse yelling and the rush of
+many feet. It was the sound she had been listening for, but it startled,
+it unnerved her. And in that instant Pierre thrust through her guard and
+with a lightning twist of the wrist sent her weapon hurtling through the
+air.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of its fall was lost in the clamour outside the door&mdash;a
+clamour so sudden and so horrible that it did for Stephanie that which
+nothing else on earth could have accomplished. It drove her to the man
+she hated for protection.</p>
+
+<p>As he flung down the foil, she made a swift move towards him. There was
+no longer shrinking in her eyes. She was simply a trembling,
+panic-stricken woman, turning instinctively to the stronger power for
+help. A little earlier she could have died without a tremor, but the
+wild strife of the past few minutes had broken down her fortitude. Her
+strength was gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur!" she panted. "Monsieur!"</p>
+
+<p>He caught her roughly to him. Even in that moment of deadly peril there
+was a certain fiery exultation about him. He held her fast, his eyes
+gazing straight down into hers.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I save you?" he said. "I can die with you&mdash;if you prefer it."</p>
+
+<p>"Save me!" she cried piteously. "Save me!"</p>
+
+<p>He bent his head, and suddenly, fiercely, savagely, he kissed her white
+lips. Then, before she could utter cry or protest, he whirled her across
+the room to the open window, catching up her cloak as he went; and,
+almost before the horror of his kiss had dawned upon her, she was out
+upon the balcony, alone with him in the awful dark.</p>
+
+<p>He kept his hand upon her as he stepped over the stone railing, but all
+power of independent action seemed to have left her. She was as one
+stunned or beneath some spell. She stood quite rigid while he groped for
+and found the ladder by which he had ascended. Then, as he lifted her,
+she let herself go into his arms without resistance. He clasped her
+hands behind his neck, and she clung there mechanically as he made the
+swift descent.</p>
+
+<p>They reached the ground in safety, and he set her on her feet. The
+terrace on which they found themselves was deserted. But as they stood
+in the dark they heard the fiends in the corridor burst into the room
+they had just left. And Pierre Dumaresq, lowering the ladder, laughed to
+himself a low, fierce laugh, without words.</p>
+
+<p>The next instant there came a rush of feet upon the balcony above them
+and a torrent of angry shouting. Stephanie shrank against a pillar, but
+in a moment Pierre's arm encircled her, impelling her irresistibly, and
+they fled across the terrace through the darkness. The man was still
+laughing as he ran. There seemed to her something devilish in his
+laughter.</p>
+
+<p>Down through the palace garden they sped, she gasping and stumbling in
+nightmare flight, he strongly upholding her, till half a dozen revolver
+shots pierced the infuriated uproar behind them and something that
+burned with a red-hot agony struck her left hand. She cried out
+involuntarily, and Pierre ceased his headlong rush for safety.</p>
+
+<p>"You are hit?" he questioned. "Where?"</p>
+
+<p>But she could not answer him, could not so much as stand. His voice
+seemed to come from an immense distance. She hardly heard his words. She
+was sinking, sinking into a void unfathomable.</p>
+
+<p>He did not stay to question further. Abruptly he stooped, gathered her
+up, slung her across his shoulder, and ran on.</p>
+
+
+<h3>V</h3>
+
+<p>When Stephanie opened her eyes again the sound of the sea was in her
+ears, and she felt as if she must have heard it for some time. She was
+lying in a chair amid surroundings wholly strange to her, and some
+one&mdash;a man whose face she could not see&mdash;was beside her, bending over a
+table, evidently engaged upon something that occupied his most minute
+attention. She watched him dreamily for a little, till the immense
+breadth of his shoulders struck a quick-growing fear into her heart;
+then she made a sudden effort to raise herself.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly she was stabbed by a dart of pain so acute that she barely
+repressed a cry.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep still, mademoiselle!" It was Pierre's voice; he spoke without
+turning. "I shall not hurt you more than I can help."</p>
+
+<p>She sank back again, shuddering uncontrollably. She knew now what he was
+doing. It had flashed upon her in that moment of horrible suffering. He
+was probing for a bullet in her left hand. Dumbly she shut her eyes and
+set herself to endure.</p>
+
+<p>But the pain was almost insupportable; it seemed to rack her whole body.
+And the presence of the man she feared, his nearness to her, his touch,
+added tenfold to the torture. Yet she was helpless, and, spent,
+exhausted though she was, for very pride she would utter no complaint.</p>
+
+<p>Minutes passed. She was near to fainting again, when abruptly Pierre
+stood up. She heard him move, and she was conscious of a blessed
+lessening of the pain. But she dared not stir or open her eyes, lest her
+self-control should forsake her utterly. She could only lie and wait in
+quivering suspense.</p>
+
+<p>He bent over her without speaking, and suddenly she felt the rim of a
+glass against her lips. With a start she looked up. His swarthy face was
+close to her own, but it was grimly immobile. He seemed to have clad
+himself from head to foot in an impenetrable armour of reserve. His lips
+were set in a firm line, as though all speech were locked securely
+behind them.</p>
+
+<p>Mutely she obeyed his unspoken command and drank. The draught was unlike
+anything she had ever tasted before. It revived her, renewing her
+failing strength.</p>
+
+<p>"I thank you, monsieur," she said faintly.</p>
+
+<p>He set down the glass, and busied himself once more with her wounded
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not hurt you any further," he said, as involuntarily she
+winced.</p>
+
+<p>And he kept his word. The worst of his task was over. He only bathed and
+bandaged with a gentleness and dexterity at which she marvelled.</p>
+
+<p>At last he looked at her.</p>
+
+<p>"You are better?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>She met his eyes for an instant. They were absolutely steady, but they
+told her nothing whatever of his thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am better," she said, with an effort.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you walk?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I think so, monsieur."</p>
+
+<p>"Then come with me," he rejoined, "and I will show you where you can
+rest."</p>
+
+<p>She sat up slowly. He bent to help her, but she would not accept his
+help till, rising to her feet, she felt the floor sway beneath her.
+Then, with a sharp exclamation, she clutched for support and gripped his
+proffered arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur!" she gasped.</p>
+
+<p>He held her up, for she was tottering. Her pale face stared
+panic-stricken up to his.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur!" she gasped again. "What is this? Where am I?"</p>
+
+<p>He made answer curtly, in a tone that sounded repressive.</p>
+
+<p>"You are on board my yacht, mademoiselle." She swayed, and he put his
+arm round her. "You are in safety," he said, in the same brief fashion.</p>
+
+<p>"As&mdash;as your prisoner?" she whispered, trying weakly to free herself
+from his hold.</p>
+
+<p>"As my guest," he said.</p>
+
+<p>By an immense effort she controlled herself, meeting his stern eyes with
+something like composure. But the memory of that single, scorching kiss
+was still with her. And in spite of her utmost resolution, she flinched
+from his direct gaze.</p>
+
+<p>"If I am your guest," she said, her low voice quivering a very little,
+"I am at liberty to come&mdash;and to go&mdash;as I will."</p>
+
+<p>"Absolutely!" said Pierre, and she fancied for an instant that he
+smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"You will take me wherever I desire to go?" she persisted, still
+battling with her agitation.</p>
+
+<p>"With one exception," he answered quietly. "I will not take you back to
+Maritas."</p>
+
+<p>She shivered. "Then where, monsieur?"</p>
+
+<p>His expression changed slightly. She had a momentary glimpse of the
+arrogance she dreaded.</p>
+
+<p>"The world is wide," he said. "And there is plenty of time before us. We
+need not decide to-night."</p>
+
+<p>She trembled more at the tone than the words. "I did not think you would
+leave Maritas so soon," she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not, mademoiselle?" His voice suddenly rang hard; it almost held a
+threat.</p>
+
+<p>She had withdrawn herself from him, but she was hardly capable of
+standing alone. She leaned secretly against the chair from which she had
+just risen.</p>
+
+<p>"Because," she made answer, still desperately facing him, "I thought
+that Maritas wanted you."</p>
+
+<p>He uttered a brief laugh that sounded savage.</p>
+
+<p>"That was yesterday," he told her grimly. "I have forfeited my
+popularity since then."</p>
+
+<p>A slow, painful flush rose in Stephanie's drawn face, but she shrank no
+longer from his look. "And you have gained nothing in exchange," she
+said, her voice very low.</p>
+
+<p>"Except what I desired to gain," said Pierre Dumaresq.</p>
+
+<p>She made a slight, involuntary movement, and instantly her brows
+contracted. She closed her eyes with a shudder. The pain was almost
+intolerable.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later she felt his strong arms lift her and a sudden passion of
+misery swept over her. Where was the use of feigning strength when he
+knew so well her utter weakness; of fighting, when she was already so
+hopelessly beaten; of begging his mercy even when he had warned her so
+emphatically that she must not expect it?</p>
+
+<p>Despair entered into her. She could resist him no longer by so much as
+the lifting of a finger. And as the knowledge swept overwhelmingly upon
+her, the last poor shred of her pride crumbled to nothing in a rush of
+anguished tears.</p>
+
+<p>Pierre said no more. His hard mouth grew a little harder, his steely
+eyes a shade more steely&mdash;that was all. He bore her unfaltering through
+the saloon to the state cabin beyond, and laid her down there.</p>
+
+<p>In another second she heard the click of the latch, and his step upon
+the threshold. Softly the door closed. Softly he went away.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VI</h3>
+
+<p>And Stephanie slept. From her paroxysm of weeping she passed into deep,
+untroubled slumber, and hour after hour slipped over her unconscious
+head while she lay at rest.</p>
+
+<p>When she awoke at last the evening sun was streaming in through the tiny
+porthole by the head of her couch, and she knew that she must have slept
+throughout the day. She was very drowsy still, and for a while she lay
+motionless, listening to the monotonous beat of the yacht's engines, and
+watching the white spray as it tossed past.</p>
+
+<p>Very gradually she began to remember what had happened to her. She
+glanced at her wounded hand, swathed in bandages and resting upon a
+cushion. Who had arranged it so, she wondered? How had it been done
+without her waking?</p>
+
+<p>At the back of her mind hovered the answers to both these questions, but
+she could not bring herself to face them&mdash;not yet. She was loth to
+withdraw herself from the haze of sleep that still hung about her. She
+shrank intuitively from a full awakening.</p>
+
+<p>And then, while she still loitered on the way to consciousness, there
+came a soft movement near her, and in a moment all her repose was
+shattered.</p>
+
+<p>Pierre, his dark face grimly inscrutable, bent over her with a cup of
+something steaming in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>She shrank at the sight of him. Her whole body seemed to contract.
+Involuntarily almost she shut her eyes. Her heart leapt and palpitated
+within her like a chained thing seeking to escape.</p>
+
+<p>Then suddenly it stood still. He was speaking.</p>
+
+<p>"Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said, "I beg you will not agitate yourself.
+You have no cause for agitation. It is not by my own wish that I intrude
+upon you. I have no choice."</p>
+
+<p>It was curtly uttered. It sounded rigidly uncompromising. Yet, for some
+reason wholly inexplicable to herself, she was conscious of relief. She
+opened her eyes, though she did not dare to raise them.</p>
+
+<p>"How is that, monsieur?" she said faintly.</p>
+
+<p>He was silent for a moment; then:</p>
+
+<p>"There is no woman on board besides yourself," he told her briefly.
+"Your own people deserted you. I had no time to search for others."</p>
+
+<p>She felt as if his eyes were drawing her own. Against her will she
+looked up and met them. They told her nothing, but at least they did not
+frighten her afresh.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you going to take me?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"We will speak of that later," he said. "Will you drink this now? You
+need it."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, monsieur?"</p>
+
+<p>For an instant she saw his faint, hard smile.</p>
+
+<p>"It is broth, mademoiselle, nothing more."</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing?" she said, still hesitating. "You&mdash;I think you gave me a
+narcotic before!"</p>
+
+<p>"I did," said Pierre. "And it did you good."</p>
+
+<p>She did not attempt to contradict him. The repression of his manner held
+her silent. Without further demur she sought to raise herself.</p>
+
+<p>But her head swam the moment she lifted it from the pillow, and she sank
+down again with closed eyes and drawn brows.</p>
+
+<p>"In a moment," she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"Permit me," said Pierre quietly; and slipped his arm under her pillow.</p>
+
+<p>She looked up sharply to protest, but the words died on her lips. She
+saw that he would not be denied.</p>
+
+<p>He supported her with absolute steadiness while she drank, not uttering
+a word. Finally, he lowered her again, and spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"It is time that your wound was attended to. With your permission I will
+proceed with it at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it serious, monsieur?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell you better when I have seen it," he rejoined, beginning to
+loosen the bandage. "Does it pain you?" as she winced.</p>
+
+<p>"A little," she acknowledged, with quivering lips.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at her, and for the first time in all her experience of him
+he spoke with a hint of kindness.</p>
+
+<p>"It will not take long, Mademoiselle Stephanie. Shut your eyes till it
+is over."</p>
+
+<p>She obeyed him mutely. Her fear of the man was merging into a curious
+feeling of reliance. She was beginning to realise that her enforced
+dependence upon him had in some fashion altered his attitude towards
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said at last. "It is not a very serious matter, though it may
+give you some trouble till it is healed. You will need to keep very
+quiet, mademoiselle, and"&mdash;again momentarily she saw his smile&mdash;"avoid
+agitating yourself as much as possible."</p>
+
+<p>"You may rely upon me to do that, monsieur," she returned with dignity;
+"if I am allowed to do so."</p>
+
+<p>Again for an instant she felt his eyes upon her, and she thought he
+frowned; but he made no comment.</p>
+
+<p>Quietly he finished his bandaging before he spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"If there is any other way in which I can serve you," he said then, "you
+have only to command me."</p>
+
+<p>She turned upon her pillow and faced him. The gradual reviving of her
+physical strength helped her at least to simulate some of her ancient
+pride that he had trampled so ruthlessly underfoot.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by that?" she questioned calmly.</p>
+
+<p>He met her look fully and sternly.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean, Mademoiselle Stephanie, precisely what I have said&mdash;no more, no
+less!"</p>
+
+<p>In spite of her utmost effort, she flinched a little. Yet she would not
+be conquered by a look.</p>
+
+<p>"I am to treat you as my servant, then, monsieur?" she questioned.</p>
+
+<p>He dropped his eyes suddenly from hers.</p>
+
+<p>"If it suits you to do so," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"The situation is not of my choosing," she reminded him.</p>
+
+<p>"Nor mine," he answered drily.</p>
+
+<p>Her heart sank, but with an effort she maintained a fair show of
+courage.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur Dumaresq," she said, "I think that you mean to be kind. I
+shall act upon that assumption. Since I am thrown upon your hospitality
+under circumstances which neither of us would have chosen&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I did not say that, mademoiselle," he interposed. "I have no quarrel
+with the gods that govern circumstance. My only regret is that, as my
+guest, you should be inefficiently served. If you find yourself able to
+treat me as a servant it will be my pleasure to serve you."</p>
+
+<p>She did not understand his tone. It seemed to her that he was trying in
+some fashion to warn her. Again the memory of his kiss swept over her;
+again to the very heart of her she shrank.</p>
+
+<p>"I think," she said slowly, "that I am more your prisoner than your
+guest, Monsieur Dumaresq."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not always quite wise to express our thoughts," he rejoined, with
+deliberate cynicism. "I have ventured to point that out to you before."</p>
+
+<p>Again he baffled her. She looked at him doubtfully. He was standing up
+beside her on the point of departure. He returned her gaze with his
+steely eyes almost as though he challenged her to penetrate to the
+citadel they guarded.</p>
+
+<p>With a sharp sigh she abandoned the contest. "I wish I understood you,"
+she said.</p>
+
+<p>He jerked his shoulders expressively.</p>
+
+<p>"You knew me a week ago better than I knew myself," he remarked. "What
+more would you have?"</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer him. She only moved her head upon the pillow with a
+gesture of weariness. She knew that she would search those pitiless eyes
+in vain for the key to the puzzle, and she only longed to be left alone.
+He could not, surely, refuse to grant her unspoken desire.</p>
+
+<p>Yet for a moment it seemed that he would prolong the interview. He stood
+above her, motionless, arrogant, frowning downwards as though he had
+something more to say. Then, while she waited tensely, dreading the very
+sound of his voice, his attitude suddenly underwent a change. The thin
+lips tightened sharply. He turned away.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VII</h3>
+
+<p>After he was gone, Stephanie sat up and gazed for a long, long time at
+the scud of water leaping past the porthole.</p>
+
+<p>She felt stunned by the events of the past twenty-four hours. She could
+only review them with a numbed amazement. The long suspense had ended so
+suddenly and so terribly. She could hardly begin to realise that it was
+indeed over, that the storm she had foreseen for so long had burst at
+last, sweeping away the Governor in headlong overthrow, and leaving her
+bruised and battered indeed, but still alive. She had never thought to
+survive him. She had not loved him, but her lot had been so inextricably
+bound up with his, that she had never seriously contemplated the
+possibility of life without him. What would happen to her? she asked
+herself. How would it end?</p>
+
+<p>There was no denying the fact that, however inexplicable Pierre's
+treatment might be, she was completely and irretrievably his prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>There was no one to deliver her from him; no one to know or care what
+became of her. Her importance had crumbled to nothing so far as the
+world was concerned. She had simply ceased to count. What did he mean to
+do with her? Why had he refused to discuss the future?</p>
+
+<p>Gradually, with a certain reluctance, her thoughts came down to her
+recent interview with him, and again the feeling that he had been trying
+to convey something that she had failed to grasp possessed her. Why had
+he warned her against attempting to define her position? What had those
+last words of his meant?</p>
+
+<p>One thing at least was certain. Though he had done little to reassure
+her, she must make a determined effort to overcome her fear of the man.
+She must not again shrink openly in his presence. She must feign
+confidence, though she felt it not. Something that he had said a week
+before on the occasion of his extraordinary proposal of marriage
+recurred to her at this point with curious force.</p>
+
+<p>"It is all a question of trust," he had said, and she recalled the
+faint, derisive smile with which he had spoken. "Whatever you expect,
+that you will receive." The words dwelt in her memory with a strange
+persistence. She had a feeling that they meant a good deal. It was
+possible&mdash;surely it was possible&mdash;that if she trusted him, he might
+prove himself to be trustworthy. If only her nerves were equal to the
+task! If only the terrible memory of his kiss could be blotted for ever
+and ever from her mind!</p>
+
+<p>She rose at last and began to move about the little state cabin. It was
+furnished luxuriously in every detail&mdash;almost, she told herself with a
+shiver, as though for a bride. Catching sight of her reflection in a
+mirror, she stared aghast, scarcely recognising herself in the
+wild-eyed, haggard woman who met her gaze. Small wonder that she had
+deemed him repressive, she told herself, for she looked like a demented
+creature.</p>
+
+<p>That astounding glimpse did more for her than any mental effort. Quite
+calmly she set to work to render her appearance more normal, and,
+crippled though she was, she succeeded at length in attaining a fairly
+satisfactory result. At least she did not think that a masculine eye
+would detect anything amiss.</p>
+
+<p>This achieved, she finally drew her travelling cloak about her and went
+to the door. It resisted her effort to open, but in a moment she heard a
+step on the other side and the withdrawal of a bolt.</p>
+
+<p>Pierre opened the door for her, and stood back for her to pass. But she
+remained on the threshold.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur Dumaresq, why did you lock me in?" she asked him, with
+something of her old stateliness of demeanour, which had made men deem
+her proud.</p>
+
+<p>His grey eyes comprehended her in a single glance. He made her his curt,
+British bow.</p>
+
+<p>"You were overwrought, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said. "I was not sure
+of your intentions. But I see that the precaution was unnecessary."</p>
+
+<p>She understood him, and a faint flush rose in her pale face.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite," she responded. "I have come to my senses, monsieur, and I know
+how to value your protection. I shall not seek that means of escape so
+long as you are safeguarding me."</p>
+
+<p>She smiled with the words, a brave and steadfast smile, and extended her
+hand to him.</p>
+
+<p>The gesture was queenly, but the instant his fingers closed upon it she
+quivered uncontrollably from head to foot. A sudden mist descended
+before her eyes, and she groped out blindly for support. Her overtaxed
+nerves had betrayed her again.</p>
+
+<p>"Come and sit down, mademoiselle," a quiet voice said; and a steady arm
+impelled her forward. "There is something of a swell to-night. I am
+afraid you feel it."</p>
+
+<p>So courteous was the tone that she almost gasped her astonishment. She
+sank into a chair, and made a desperate effort to regain her
+self-control.</p>
+
+<p>"You are very kind, monsieur," she said, not very steadily. "No doubt I
+shall become accustomed to it."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not think you are quite fit for this," he said gravely.</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him with more confidence.</p>
+
+<p>"I am really stronger than you think," she said. "And I wanted to speak
+to you on the subject of our destination."</p>
+
+<p>She fancied that he stiffened a little at the words, but he merely said:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, mademoiselle?"</p>
+
+<p>"Will you not sit down," she said, "and tell me where the yacht is
+going?"</p>
+
+<p>He sat down on the edge of the table. There was undeniable restlessness
+in his attitude.</p>
+
+<p>"We are running due west at the present moment," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"With what object?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"With no object, mademoiselle," he rejoined, "except to keep out of
+reach of our enemies."</p>
+
+<p>"You have left Maritas for good?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>He uttered a short laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. I have nothing to go back for."</p>
+
+<p>"And you are indifferent," she questioned, with slight hesitation, "as
+to the direction you take?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I am not indifferent," he answered curtly.</p>
+
+<p>She was silent. His manner puzzled her, made her afraid in spite of
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>There followed a short pause, then he turned slightly and looked at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you any particular wishes upon the subject?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, monsieur."</p>
+
+<p>Her reply was very low.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me hear them," said Pierre.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like," she said slowly, "if it be possible, to go to England.
+I have relations there who might help me."</p>
+
+<p>"Help you, mademoiselle?"</p>
+
+<p>His tone sounded harsh.</p>
+
+<p>"To earn my living," she answered simply.</p>
+
+<p>His brows met suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a far cry to England," he observed.</p>
+
+<p>"I know it," she said. "I am counting upon your kindness."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," said Pierre. "I am to take you there, and&mdash;leave you. Is that
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>She bent her head.</p>
+
+<p>"If you will, monsieur."</p>
+
+<p>"And if I will not?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>She was silent.</p>
+
+<p>He stood up abruptly, and walked to the farther end of the saloon. When
+he came back his face was set and grim. He halted in front of her.</p>
+
+<p>"I am to do this thing for nothing?" he said. And it seemed to her that,
+though uttered quietly, his words came through clenched teeth.</p>
+
+<p>Again wild panic was at her heart, but with all her strength she held it
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"You offered to serve me, monsieur," she reminded him.</p>
+
+<p>"Even a servant expects to be paid," he rejoined curtly.</p>
+
+<p>"But I have nothing to offer you," she said.</p>
+
+<p>She saw the grey eyes glitter as steel in sudden sunshine. Their
+brightness was intolerable. She turned her own away.</p>
+
+<p>"Does it not occur to you, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said, "that your
+life is more my property than your own at the present moment? Have I no
+claim to be consulted as to its disposal?"</p>
+
+<p>"None, monsieur," she made answer quickly. "None whatever."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet," he said, "you asked me to save you when&mdash;had you preferred
+it&mdash;I would have died with you."</p>
+
+<p>She was silent, remembering with bitterness her wild cry for
+deliverance.</p>
+
+<p>He waited a little. Then:</p>
+
+<p>"You may have nothing to offer me, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said,
+"but, by heaven, you shall take nothing away."</p>
+
+<p>She heard a deep menace in his voice that was like the growl of an angry
+beast. She shuddered inwardly as she listened, but outwardly she
+remained calm. She even, after a few moments, mustered strength to rise
+and face him.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it that you want of me, Monsieur Dumaresq?" she asked. "How can
+I purchase your services?"</p>
+
+<p>He flung back his head abruptly. She thought that he was going to utter
+his scoffing laugh. But it did not come. Instead, he looked at her,
+looked at her long and piercingly, while she stood erect and waited.</p>
+
+<p>At last: "The price for my services," he said deliberately, "is that you
+marry me as soon as we reach England."</p>
+
+<p>"Marry you!" In spite of her utmost resolution she started, and slightly
+shrank. "You still desire that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I still desire it," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"And if I refuse?" she questioned, her voice very low.</p>
+
+<p>"You will not refuse," he returned, with conviction. "You dare not
+refuse."</p>
+
+<p>She stood silent.</p>
+
+<p>"And that being so," said Pierre, with a certain doggedness peculiarly
+at variance with his fierce and headlong nature, "that being so,
+Mademoiselle Stephanie, would it not be wiser for you to yield at once?"</p>
+
+<p>"To yield, monsieur?"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes sought his for the fraction of a second. He was still closely
+watching her.</p>
+
+<p>"To give me your promise," he said. "It is all I shall ask of you. I
+shall be satisfied with that."</p>
+
+<p>"And what have you to offer in exchange?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>A strange expression, that was almost a smile, flitted over his hard
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"I will give you my friendship," he said, "no more, no less."</p>
+
+<p>But still she hesitated, till suddenly, with a gesture wholly arrogant,
+he held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Trust me," he said, "and I will be trustworthy."</p>
+
+<p>She knew it for a definite promise, however insolently expressed. It was
+plain that he meant what he said. It was plain that he desired to win
+her confidence. And in a measure she was reassured. His actions
+testified to a patience of which she had not deemed him capable.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly, in unconscious submission to his will, she laid her hand in his.</p>
+
+<p>"And afterwards, monsieur?" she said. "Shall I be able to trust you
+then?"</p>
+
+<p>He leaned slightly towards her, looking more closely into her face.</p>
+
+<p>Then: "All my life, Stephanie," he said, and before she realised his
+intention he had pressed her hand to his lips with the action of a man
+who seals an oath.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VIII</h3>
+
+<p>From that hour forward, Stephanie was no longer a close prisoner. She
+was free to wander wherever she would about the yacht, but she never
+penetrated very far. The vessel was no mere pleasure boat, and there was
+much that might have interested her, had she been disposed to take an
+interest therein. But she shrank with a morbid dread from the eyes of
+the Spanish sailors. She longed unspeakably to hide herself away in
+unbroken seclusion.</p>
+
+<p>Her wound healed rapidly, so rapidly that Pierre soon ceased to treat
+it, but it took much longer for her to recover from the effects of that
+terrible night at Maritas. The horror of it was with her night and day.</p>
+
+<p>Pierre's treatment of her never varied. He saw to her comfort with
+unfailing vigilance and consideration, but he never attempted to obtrude
+himself upon her. He seldom spoke to her unless she addressed him. He
+never by word or look referred to the compact between them. Her fear of
+him had sunk away into the background of her thoughts. Furtively she
+studied him, but he gave her no cause for fear. When she sat on the
+deck, he never joined her. He did not so much as eat with her till one
+day, not without much inward trepidation, she invited him to do so. And
+she marvelled, again and again she marvelled, at his forbearance.</p>
+
+<p>Calmly and uneventfully the endless summer days slipped by. Her strength
+was undoubtedly returning to her, the youth in her reviving. The long
+rest was taking effect upon her. The overstrung nerves were growing
+steady again. Often she would sit and ponder upon the future, but she
+had no definite idea to guide her. At first she shrank unspeakably from
+the bare thought of the end of the voyage, but gradually she became
+accustomed to it. It seemed too remote to be terrible, and her reliance
+upon Pierre's good faith increased daily. Somehow, unaccountably, she
+had wholly ceased to regard him as an enemy. Possibly her fears and even
+her antagonism were only dormant, but at least they did not torment her.
+She did not start at the sound of his voice, or shrink from the straight
+regard of those hard eyes. She knew by that instinct that cannot err
+that he meant to keep his word.</p>
+
+<p>They left the regions of endless summer behind at last, and the cooler
+breezes of the north swept the long, blue ridges over which they
+travelled. They came into a more frequented, less dreamlike sea, but
+though many vessels passed them, they were seldom near enough for
+greeting. And Stephanie came to understand that it was not Pierre's
+desire to hold much converse with the outer world. Yet she knew that
+they were heading straight for England, and their isolation was bound
+ere long to come to an end.</p>
+
+<p>It was summer weather even in England just then, summer weather in the
+blue Atlantic, summer everywhere. She spent many hours of each day in a
+sheltered corner of the deck, watching the leaping waves, green and
+splendid, racing from the keel. And a strange content was hers while she
+watched, born of the unwonted peace which of late had wrapped her round.
+She was as one come into safe harbourage after long and futile tossing
+upon the waters of strife. She did not question her security. She only
+knew that it was there.</p>
+
+<p>But one day there came a change&mdash;a grey sky and white-capped waves.
+Suddenly and inexplicably, as is the way of the northern climate, the
+sunshine was withdrawn, the summer weather departed, and there came
+desolation.</p>
+
+<p>Stephanie's corner on deck was empty. She crouched below, ill, shivering
+with cold and wretchedness. All day long she listened to the howling
+wind and pitiless, lashing rain, rising above the sullen roar of the
+waves. All day long the vessel pitched and tossed, flinging her back and
+forth while she clung in desperation to the edge of her berth.</p>
+
+<p>Pierre waited upon her from time to time, but he could do little to
+relieve her discomfort, and he left her for the most part alone.</p>
+
+<p>As evening drew on, the gale increased, and Stephanie, lying in her
+cabin, could hear the great waves breaking over the deck with a violence
+that grew more awful with every moment. Her nerves began to give way
+under the strain. It was a long while since Pierre had been near her,
+and the loneliness appalled her.</p>
+
+<p>She could endure it no longer at last, and arose with a wild idea of
+going on deck. The narrow walls of her cabin had become unendurable.</p>
+
+<p>With difficulty, grabbing at first one thing, then another for support,
+she made her way to the saloon. The place was empty, but a single lamp
+burned steadily by the door that led to the companion, and guided her
+halting steps.</p>
+
+<p>The floor was at a steep upward angle when she started, but before she
+had accomplished half the distance it plunged suddenly downwards, and
+she was flung forward against the table. Bruised and frightened, she
+dragged herself up, reached the farther door at a run, only to fall once
+more against it.</p>
+
+<p>Here she lay for a little, half-stunned, till that terrible slow
+upheaval began again. Then, with a sharp effort, she recalled her
+scattered senses and struggled up, clinging to the handle. Slowly she
+mounted, slowly, slowly, till her feet began to slip down that awful
+slant. Then at the last moment, when she thought she must fall headlong,
+there came that fearful plunge again, and she knew that the yacht was
+deep in the trough of some gigantic wave.</p>
+
+<p>The loneliness was terrible. It seemed like the forerunner of
+annihilation. She felt that whatever the danger on deck, it must be
+easier to face than this fearful solitude. And so at last, in a brief
+lull, she opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>A great swirl of wind and water dashed down upon her on the instant. The
+lamp behind her flickered and went out, but there was another at the
+head of the steps to light her halting progress, and, clinging with both
+hands to the rail, she began to ascend.</p>
+
+<p>The uproar was deafening. It deprived her of the power to think. But she
+no longer felt afraid. She found this limbo of howling desolation
+infinitely preferable to the awful loneliness of her cabin. Slowly and
+with difficulty she made her way.</p>
+
+<p>She had nearly reached the top when a man's figure in streaming oilskins
+sprang suddenly into the opening. Above the storm she heard a hoarse
+yell of warning or of anger, she knew not which, and the next instant
+Pierre was beside her, holding her imprisoned against the hand-rail to
+which she clung.</p>
+
+<p>She stood up and faced him, still gripping the rail.</p>
+
+<p>"Take me on deck!" she cried to him. "I shall not be afraid."</p>
+
+<p>She had flung her cloak about her, but the hood had blown back from her
+head, and her hair hung loose. Pierre looked at her in stern silence,
+holding her fast. She fancied he was displeased with her for leaving the
+cabin, and she reiterated her earnest request that he would suffer her
+to come up just for a little to breathe the fresh air.</p>
+
+<p>"It is so horrible below," she told him. "It frightens me."</p>
+
+<p>Pierre was frowning heavily.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think you would not be my first care?" he demanded, bracing
+himself as the vessel plunged to support her with greater security.</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer. There was a touch of ferocity in the question that
+silenced her. The pitching of the yacht threw her against him the next
+moment, and her feet slipped from beneath her.</p>
+
+<p>Unconsciously almost she turned and clung to the arms that held her up.
+They tightened about her to a grip that made her gasp for breath. He
+lifted her back to the foothold she had lost. His face was more grimly
+set than she had ever seen it.</p>
+
+<p>She wondered if he was secretly afraid. For they seemed to be sinking
+down, down, down into the depths of destruction, and only his close
+holding kept her where she was.</p>
+
+<p>She thought that they were going straight to the bottom, and
+involuntarily her clinging hands held faster. Involuntarily, too, she
+raised her eyes to his, seeking, as the human soul is bound to seek, for
+human comradeship in face of mortal danger.</p>
+
+<p>But the next instant she knew that no thought of danger was in his mind,
+or if it existed it was obscured by something infinitely greater.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes saw her and her only. The fierce flame of his passion blazed
+down upon her, searing its terrible way to her soul, dazzling her,
+hypnotising her, till she could see nought else, could feel nought but
+the burning intensity of the fire that had kindled so suddenly about
+her.</p>
+
+<p>A dart of wild dismay went through her as keen as physical pain, but in
+a moment it was gone. For though he held her caught against his breast
+and covered her face with kisses that seemed to scorch her, it was not
+fear that she felt so much as a gasping wonder that she was unafraid.</p>
+
+
+<h3>IX</h3>
+
+<p>When Pierre let her go, she fell, half-fainting, against the rail, and
+must have sunk at his feet had he not sharply stooped and lifted her.
+Profiting by a brief lull in the tempest, he bore her down the steps and
+into the dark saloon. She lay quite passive in his arms, dazed,
+exhausted, but still curiously devoid of fear.</p>
+
+<p>He laid her upon a cushioned locker by the wall, and relighted the lamp.
+Then, in utter silence, he carried her to her cabin beyond and left her
+there. She had a single glimpse of his face as he turned away, and it
+seemed to her that she had looked upon the face of a man in torture. He
+went away without a word, and she was left alone.</p>
+
+<p>And so for hours she lay, unmindful of the storm, regardless utterly of
+aught that happened, lying with wide eyes and burning cheeks, conscious
+only of that ever-growing wonder that was not fear.</p>
+
+<p>At dawn the wind abated and the yacht began to pitch less. When the sun
+had been up for a few hours, the gale of the night was a thing of the
+past, and only the white-capped waves were left as a laughing reminder
+of the storm that had passed over.</p>
+
+<p>The day was brilliant, and Stephanie arose at length with a feeling that
+she must go up into the sunshine and face the future. The thought of
+meeting Pierre even could not ultimately detain her below, though it
+kept her there considerably longer than usual. After all, was she not
+bound to meet him? Of what use was it to shirk the inevitable?</p>
+
+<p>But when she finally entered the saloon, he was not there. The table was
+laid for breakfast, and a sailor was at hand to serve her. But of Pierre
+there was no sign. He evidently had no intention of joining her.</p>
+
+<p>She made no inquiry for him, but as soon as the meal was over she took
+her cloak and prepared to go on deck. With nervous haste she passed the
+scene of the previous night's encounter. She almost expected to find
+Pierre waiting for her at the top of the companion, but she looked for
+him in vain. And even when she finally stepped upon the deck and crossed
+to the rail that she might search the whole length of the yacht, she
+could not discover him.</p>
+
+<p>A vague uneasiness began to trouble her. The suspense was hard to bear.
+She longed to meet him and have done with it.</p>
+
+<p>But she longed in vain. All through the sunny hours of the morning she
+sat or paced in solitude. No one came near her till her breakfast
+attendant appeared with another meal.</p>
+
+<p>By the end of the afternoon she was thoroughly miserable. She longed
+intensely to inquire for the yacht's master, yet could not bring herself
+to do so. Eventually it began to rain, and she went below and sat in the
+saloon, trying, quite ineffectually, to ease her torment of suspense
+with a book. But she comprehended nothing of what she read, and when the
+young cabin steward appeared again to set the dinner she looked up in
+desperation.</p>
+
+<p>She was on the point of questioning him as to his master's whereabouts;
+the question, indeed, was already half uttered, when her eyes went
+beyond him and she broke off short.</p>
+
+<p>Pierre himself was quietly entering through the companion door.</p>
+
+<p>He bowed to her in his abrupt way, and signed to the lad to continue his
+task.</p>
+
+<p>"He understands no English," he said. "You do not object to his
+presence?"</p>
+
+<p>She replied in the negative, though in her heart she wished he had
+dismissed him. She could not meet his eyes before a third person. It
+added tenfold to her embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>But when he seated himself near her, she did venture a fleeting glance
+at him, and was amazed unspeakably by what she saw. For his face was
+haggard and drawn like the face of a sick man, and every hint of
+arrogance was gone from his bearing. He looked beaten.</p>
+
+<p>He began to speak at once, jerkily, unnaturally, almost as if he also
+were embarrassed. "I have something to say to you," he said, "which I
+beg you will hear with patience. It concerns your future&mdash;and mine."</p>
+
+<p>The strangeness of his manner, his obvious dejection, the amazing
+humility of his address, combined to endue Stephanie with a composure
+she had scarcely hoped to attain.</p>
+
+<p>She found herself able to look at him quite steadily, and did so. It was
+he who&mdash;for the first time in her recollection&mdash;avoided her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Monsieur Dumaresq?" she asked quietly.</p>
+
+<p>His hands were gripped upon the arms of his chair. He seemed to be
+holding himself there by force.</p>
+
+<p>"Just this," he said. "I find that your estimate is after all the
+correct one. You have always regarded me as a blackguard, and a
+blackguard I am. I am not here to apologise for it, simply to
+acknowledge my mistake, for, strange as it will seem to you, I took
+myself for something different. At least when I gave you my word I
+thought I was capable of keeping it. Well, it is broken, and, that being
+so, I can no longer hold you to yours. Do you understand, Mademoiselle
+Stephanie? You are a free woman."</p>
+
+<p>For an instant he looked at her, and an odd thrill of pity ran through
+her for his humiliation.</p>
+
+<p>She said nothing. She had no words in which to express herself.
+Moreover, her eyes were suddenly full of unaccountable tears. She could
+not have trusted her voice.</p>
+
+<p>After a moment he resumed. "There is only one thing left to say. In two
+days we shall be in British waters. I will land you wherever you wish.
+But you shall not go from me to earn your own living. You will
+accept&mdash;you shall accept"&mdash;she heard the stubborn note she had come to
+know so well in his voice&mdash;"sufficient from me to make you independent
+for the rest of your life. Yes, from me, mademoiselle!" He looked her
+straight in the eyes with something of his old arrogance. "You can
+refuse, of course. No doubt you will refuse. But I can compel you. If
+you will not have it as a gift, you shall have it as&mdash;a bequest."</p>
+
+<p>He ceased, but he continued to sit with his eyes upon her, ready, she
+knew, to beat down any and every objection she might raise.</p>
+
+<p>She did not speak. She was for the moment too much surprised for speech;
+but as his meaning dawned upon her, something that was greater than
+either surprise or pity took possession of her, holding her silent. She
+only, after several moments, rose and stood with her face turned from
+him, watching through the porthole the waves that leaped by, all green
+and amber, in the light of sunset.</p>
+
+<p>"You understand me clearly, Mademoiselle Stephanie?" he asked at length,
+in a voice that came harshly through the silence.</p>
+
+<p>She moved slightly, but she did not turn.</p>
+
+<p>"I have never understood you, monsieur," she made answer, her voice very
+low.</p>
+
+<p>He jerked his shoulders impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>"At least you understand me on this point," he said curtly.</p>
+
+<p>She was silent. At length:</p>
+
+<p>"But you do not understand me," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Better than you fancy, mademoiselle," he answered bitterly. "I do not
+think your feelings where I am concerned have ever been very
+complicated."</p>
+
+<p>Again slightly she moved without looking round.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you would tell your man to go," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Mademoiselle?" There was a note of surprise in the query.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell him to go!" she reiterated, with nervous vehemence.</p>
+
+<p>There fell an abrupt silence. Then she heard an imperious snap of the
+fingers from Pierre, followed instantly by the steward's retiring
+footsteps.</p>
+
+<p>She waited till she heard them no longer, then slowly she turned. Pierre
+had not moved from his chair. He was gripping the arms as before. She
+stood with her back to the light, thankful for the dimness that obscured
+her face.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I have something to say to you, monsieur," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I am listening, mademoiselle," he responded briefly, not raising his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but you must help me," she said, and her voice shook a little.
+"It&mdash;it is no easy thing that I have to say."</p>
+
+<p>He made a fierce movement of unrest.</p>
+
+<p>"How can I help you? I have given you your freedom. What more can I do?"</p>
+
+<p>"You can spare me a moment's kindness," she answered gently. "You may be
+angry with yourself, but you need not be angry with me also."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not angry with you," he responded half sullenly. "But I can bear
+no trifling, I warn you. I am not my own master. If you wish to secure
+yourself from further insult, you will be wise to leave me alone."</p>
+
+<p>"And if not?" she questioned slowly. "If&mdash;for instance&mdash;I do not feel
+myself insulted by what happened last night?"</p>
+
+<p>He glanced up at that so suddenly that she felt as if something pierced
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Then," he rejoined harshly, "you are a very strange woman, Mademoiselle
+Stephanie."</p>
+
+<p>"I begin to think I am," she said, with a rather piteous smile. "Yet,
+for all that, I will not be trifled with either. A compact such as ours
+can only be cancelled by mutual consent. I think you are rather inclined
+to forget that."</p>
+
+<p>"Meaning?" said Pierre abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>She drew a sharp breath. Her heart was beating very fast.</p>
+
+<p>"Meaning," she said, "meaning that I do not&mdash;and I will not&mdash;agree to
+your proposal; that if I accept my freedom from you, it will be because
+you force me to do so, and I will take nothing else&mdash;do you
+hear?&mdash;nothing else, either as a gift or as a bequest. You may compel me
+to accept my freedom&mdash;against my will; but nothing else, I swear&mdash;I
+swear!"</p>
+
+<p>Her voice broke suddenly. She pressed her hands against her throat,
+striving to control her agitation. But she might as well have striven to
+contend with the previous night's storm; for it shook her, from head to
+foot it shook her, as a tree is shaken by the tempest.</p>
+
+<p>As for Pierre, before her words were fairly uttered he had leapt to his
+feet. His hands were clenched. He looked almost as if he would strike
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" he thundered.</p>
+
+<p>She could not answer, but still she did not flinch. She only threw out
+her hands and set them against his breast, holding him from her. Whether
+or not her eyes spoke for her she never knew, but he became suddenly
+rigid at her touch, standing motionless, waiting for her with a patience
+she found well-nigh incredible.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me," he said at last, and in his voice restraint and passion were
+strangely mingled, "what is it you are trying to make me understand? In
+Heaven's name don't be afraid!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not," she whispered back breathlessly, "believe me, I am not. But,
+oh, Pierre, it's so hard for a woman to tell a man what is in her heart
+when&mdash;when she doesn't even know that he cares to hear."</p>
+
+<p>"Stephanie!" he said. He unclenched his hands, and slowly, very slowly,
+took her quivering wrists. His eyes would have searched hers, but she
+was looking at him no longer. Her head was bent. She was crying softly,
+like a child that has been frightened.</p>
+
+<p>"Stephanie!" he said again.</p>
+
+<p>She made a little movement towards him, hesitated a moment, then went
+close and hid her face against his breast.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do make it easy for me!" she entreated brokenly. "Do&mdash;do try to
+understand!"</p>
+
+<p>His arms closed about her. He held her tensely against his heart, so
+that she heard the wild tumult of its beating. But he said nothing
+whatever. He waited for her still.</p>
+
+<p>And so at last she found strength to turn her face a little upwards and
+whisper his name.</p>
+
+<p>"Pierre!" And then, with more assurance, "Pierre, it is true I haven't
+much to offer you. But such as it is&mdash;such as it is&mdash;and you asked for
+it once, remember&mdash;will you not take it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Meaning?" he said again, and his voice was hoarse and low. It seemed to
+come through closed lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Meaning," she answered him quickly and passionately, "that
+revolutionist as you have been, tyrant as you are, you have managed
+somehow to bind me to you. Oh, I was a fool&mdash;a fool&mdash;not to marry you
+long ago at Maritas even though I hated you. I might have known that you
+would conquer me in the end."</p>
+
+<p>"Has it come to that?" said Pierre, and there was a queer break in his
+voice that might have been laughter. "And have you never asked yourself
+what made me a revolutionist&mdash;and a tyrant?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never," she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>"Must I tell you?" he said. "Will you believe me if I do?"</p>
+
+<p>She turned her face fully to him, no longer fearing to meet that
+piercing scrutiny before which she had so often quailed. "Was it for my
+sake?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>He met her look with eyes that gleamed as steel gleams in red firelight.</p>
+
+<p>"How else could I have saved you?" he said. "How else could I have been
+in time?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but you should have told me!" she said. "You should have told me!"</p>
+
+<p>"And if I had," said Pierre, "would you have hated me less? Do you hate
+me the less now that you know it?"</p>
+
+<p>She was silent.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me, Stephanie," he persisted.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes fell before his.</p>
+
+<p>"Have I ever hated you?" she said, her voice very low.</p>
+
+<p>"If I did not make you hate me last night," he said, "then you never
+have."</p>
+
+<p>"And I never shall," she supplemented under her breath.</p>
+
+<p>"That," said Pierre, "is another matter. You forget that I am a
+blackguard."</p>
+
+<p>Again she heard in his voice that sound that might have been laughter.
+It thrilled her strangely, seeming in some fashion to convey a message
+that was beyond words. She turned in his arms, responding instinctively,
+and clung closely to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I forget everything," she told him very earnestly, "except that
+to-morrow&mdash;or the next day&mdash;you will be&mdash;my husband."</p>
+
+<p>His arms grew tense about her. She felt his breathing quicken.</p>
+
+<p>"Be careful!" he muttered. "Be careful! Remember, I am not to be
+trusted."</p>
+
+<p>But she answered him with that laughter that is without fear and more
+intimate than speech.</p>
+
+<p>"All that is over," she said, and lifted her face to his. And then, more
+softly, in a voice that quivered and broke, "I trust you with my whole
+heart. And Pierre&mdash;my Pierre&mdash;you will never again&mdash;kiss me&mdash;against my
+will!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Where_the_Heart_Is" id="Where_the_Heart_Is"></a>Where the Heart Is</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>"Of course, I know that a quiet, well-meanin' fool like myself hasn't
+much of a chance with women, but I just thought I'd give you the
+opportunity of refusin' me, and then we should know where we were."</p>
+
+<p>It was leisurely uttered, and without any hint of agitation. The speaker
+was lying on his back at the end of a long, green lawn. His hat was over
+the upper part of his face, leaving only his mouth visible. It was a
+singularly kindly mouth. Some critics called it weak, though there was
+no sign of nervousness about it. The clean lips made their statement
+without faltering, and without apparent effort, and, having spoken,
+relaxed into a faint smile that was pleasantly devoid of
+self-consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>The girl at whose side he lay listened with a slight frown between her
+eyes. She was quivering inwardly with embarrassment, but she would have
+died sooner than have betrayed it. The shyest child found it hard to be
+shy with Tots Waring. His full name was Tottenham, but nobody dreamed of
+using it. From his cradle onwards he had been Tots to all who knew him.
+His proposal was followed by a very decided pause. Then, still frowning,
+the girl spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it a joke?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never made a joke in my life," said Tots.</p>
+
+<p>"Then why don't you do it properly?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a decided touch of irritation in the question. The girl was
+leaning slightly forward, her hands clasped round her knee. Her black
+brows looked decidedly uncompromising, and there was a faintly
+contemptuous twist about her upper lip.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be vexed!" pleaded Tots. "I suppose you know by experience how
+these things are managed, but I don't. You see, it's my first attempt."</p>
+
+<p>Unwillingly, as it were in spite of itself, the contemptuous curve
+became a very small smile. The girl's dark eyes dwelt for several
+seconds upon that portion of her suitor's countenance that was visible
+under the linen hat. There was a wonderful serenity about the mouth and
+chin she studied. They did not look in the least as if their owner were
+taking either himself or her seriously. Her own lips tightened a little,
+and a sudden gleam shot up behind her black lashes&mdash;a gleam that had in
+it an elusive glint of malice. She suffered her eyes to pass beyond him
+and to rest upon a distant line of firs. The man stretched out beside
+her remained motionless.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," she said at last, with slight hesitation, "should you take it for
+granted that I should refuse you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?" said Tots. He stirred languidly, and removed the hat from his
+face, but he still maintained his easy attitude. He had heavy-lidded
+eyes, upon the colour of which most people disagreed&mdash;eyes that never
+appeared critical, and yet were somehow not wholly in keeping with the
+kindly, half-whimsical mouth. "I'm not takin' it for granted," he said.
+"I only think it likely. You see, all I have to go upon is this: Every
+one hereabouts is gettin' married or engaged, except you and me. That,
+of course, is all right for them, but it isn't precisely excitin' for
+us. I thought it might be more fun for both of us if we did the same. At
+least, I thought I'd find out your opinion about it, and act
+accordin'ly. If we don't see alike about it, of course, there's no more
+to be said. We'll just go on as we were before, and hope that somethin'
+else nice will turn up soon."</p>
+
+<p>"To relieve our mutual boredom!" The girl's laugh sounded rather hard.
+"Don't you think," she asked, after a moment, "that we should bore each
+other even worse if we got engaged?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know!" Tots laughed too&mdash;an easy, tolerant laugh. "Could
+but try, eh?" he suggested. "I'm tired of this everlastin' lookin' on."</p>
+
+<p>"So am I&mdash;horribly tired." The girl rose suddenly, with a movement
+curiously vehement.</p>
+
+<p>"But I shouldn't have thought you'd care," she said, with a touch of
+bitterness. "I should have thought a bovine existence suited you."</p>
+
+<p>Tots sat up deliberately and put on his hat. His manner betrayed no
+resentment.</p>
+
+<p>"Really?" he said, with his pleasant smile. "You see, one never knows."</p>
+
+<p>He reached up a hand to her, and, wondering a little at herself, she
+gave him her own to assist him to rise.</p>
+
+<p>He got to his feet and stood before her&mdash;a loose-limbed, awkward figure
+that towered above her, making her feel rather small.</p>
+
+<p>"It's done, then, is it?" he questioned, still keeping her hand in his.</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him with a nervous laugh. Secretly she was wondering
+how far he was going to carry the joke.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, of course," she said. "Can you imagine any sane woman refusing
+such a magnificent offer?"</p>
+
+<p>Though she suffered that ring of mockery in her voice, she was still
+thinking as she spoke that it would serve him right if she frightened
+him well by letting him imagine that she was taking him seriously.</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" said Tots, in the tone of one well pleased with his bargain. "It
+shall be my business to see that you do not regret it."</p>
+
+<p>And with the words he drew her hand through his arm, laughing back at
+her with baffling complacence, and led her down the long lawn with the
+air of one who had taken possession.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Ruth Carey had been accustomed to fend for herself nearly all her life.
+Her lot had been cast in a very narrow groove, and it had not contained
+a single gleam of romance to make it beautiful. The whole of her early
+girlhood had been spent buried in a country vicarage, utterly out of
+touch with all the rest of the world. Here she had lived with her
+grandfather, leading a wild and free existence, wholly independent of
+society, hewing, as it were, a way for herself in a desert that was very
+empty and almost unthinkably barren.</p>
+
+<p>Then, when she was eight-and-twenty, a silent, curiously undeveloped
+woman, the inevitable change had come. Her grandfather had died, and she
+had gone out at last beyond the sky-line of her desert into the crowded
+thoroughfares of men.</p>
+
+<p>The gay crowd of cousins with whom she made her home found her
+unattractive, and took no special pains to discover further. They were
+all younger than she was, and full to the brim of their own various
+interests. Of the five girls, three were already engaged, and one was on
+the eve of marriage.</p>
+
+<p>It was at this juncture that Tots had lounged into Ruth's consideration
+and proposed himself as a candidate for her favour.</p>
+
+<p>Tots was a familiar friend of the family. Every one liked him in a
+tolerant, joking sort of way. No one took him seriously. He was to act
+as best man at the forthcoming wedding, being a near friend and the host
+of the bridegroom.</p>
+
+<p>Uniformly kind to man and beast, he had made himself lazily pleasant to
+the unattractive cousin. Circumstance had thrown them a good deal
+together, and he had not quarrelled with circumstance. He had acquiesced
+with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>He made it appear in some fashion absurd that they should not at least
+be friends, and then, having gained that much, he astounded her by
+proposing to her. It was a preposterous situation. Having at length
+freed herself from him, she escaped to the house to review it with
+burning cheeks. It was nothing but a joke, of course&mdash;of course, however
+he might repudiate the fact, and she resented it with all her might. She
+would teach him that such jokes were not to be played upon her with
+impunity. She had no one to defend her from this species of insult. She
+would defend herself. She would fool him as he sought to fool her.</p>
+
+<p>But there was a yet more painful ordeal in store for her that night in
+the billiard-room, had she but known it. The morrow's bridegroom, Fred
+Danvers, having failed to execute an easy shot, some one accused him of
+possessing shaky nerves.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll never get through to-morrow if you can't do an easy thing like
+that," was the laughing remark.</p>
+
+<p>Tots looked up.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, rot! The bridegroom has no business to suffer with the jumps.
+That's the best man's privilege. He does all the work, and has all the
+responsibility. Why, I'm shakin' in my shoes whenever I think of
+to-morrow, but if it were my own weddin' I shouldn't turn a hair."</p>
+
+<p>Young Danvers guffawed at this.</p>
+
+<p>"Bet you'll turn the colour of this table when the time comes, if it
+ever does come, which I doubt!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" questioned Tots.</p>
+
+<p>Danvers laughed again, enjoying the joke. Tots was always more or less
+of a butt to his friends.</p>
+
+<p>"In the first place, you'd never have the courage or the energy to
+propose. In the second, no girl would ever take you seriously. In the
+third&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He broke off, struck silent by a wholly unexpected display of energy on
+the part of Tots, who had suddenly hurled a piece of chalk at him from
+the other end of the room. It hit him smartly on the shoulder, leaving a
+white patch to testify to the excellence of Tots's aim.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," said Tots mildly. "But you really shouldn't talk
+such rot, particularly in the presence of my <i>fianc&eacute;e</i>."</p>
+
+<p>He turned round to Ruth, who was shrinking into a corner behind him, and
+with a courtly gesture drew her forward.</p>
+
+<p>"In the first place," he said, addressing the assembled company with a
+good-humoured smile, "I had the courage and the energy to propose only
+this afternoon. In the second place, this lady did me the inestimable
+favour of takin' me seriously. And in the third place, we're goin' to
+get married as soon as possible."</p>
+
+<p>In the astounded silence that followed these announcements, he stooped,
+with no exaggeration of reverence, and kissed the icy, trembling hand he
+held.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Ruth never knew afterwards how she came through those terrible moments.
+She was as one horror-stricken into acquiescence. She scarcely heard the
+nightmare buzz of congratulation all about her. The only thing of which
+she was vividly conscious, over and above her dumb anguish of
+consternation, was the fast grip of Tots's hand. It seemed to hold her
+up, to sustain her, while the very soul of her was ready to faint with
+dismay.</p>
+
+<p>She did not even remember later how she effected her escape at last, but
+she had a vague impression that Tots managed it for her. It was all very
+dreadful and incomprehensible. She felt as if she were suddenly caught
+in a trap from which there could never be any escape. And she was
+terrified beyond all reason.</p>
+
+<p>All the night she lay awake, turning the matter over and over, but in
+every respect it presented to her a problem too complicated for her
+solution. When morning came she was tired out physically and mentally,
+conscious only of an ardent desire to flee from her perplexities.</p>
+
+<p>Her cousin's wedding occupied the minds of all, and she spent the
+earlier hours in comparative peace in the bustle of preparation. She saw
+nothing of Tots, and she hoped his responsibilities would keep him too
+busy to spare her any of his attention.</p>
+
+<p>Vain hope! When she went to her room to don her bridesmaid's dress, she
+found a small parcel awaiting her. With a sinking heart, she opened it,
+a jeweller's box with a strip of paper wound about it. The paper
+contained a message in four words: "With love from Tots."</p>
+
+<p>A wild tumult arose within her, and her fingers shook so that she could
+scarcely remove the lid of the box. Succeeding at length, she stood
+motionless, staring with wide, scared eyes at the ring that lay shining
+in the sunlight, as though she beheld some evil charm. The diamonds
+flashed in her eyes and dazzled her, making her see nothing but tiny
+pin-points of intolerable light. Her heart thumped and raced as though
+it would choke her. Unconsciously she gasped for breath. That ring was
+to her another bar in the door of her prison-house.</p>
+
+<p>At an urgent call from one of her cousins, she started and almost threw
+the box, with its contents, into a drawer. Feverishly she began to
+dress. It was much later than she had realised. When she appeared in the
+hall with the other bridesmaids, some one remarked upon her deathly
+pallor, but she shrank away behind the bride, anxious only to screen
+herself from observation. She would have given all she had to have
+avoided Tots just then, but there was no escape for her. He was in the
+church-porch as she entered it, though there was no time for more than a
+hurried hand-clasp.</p>
+
+<p>The church was very hot, and the crush of guests great. She listened to
+the marriage service as a prisoner might listen to his death sentence.
+The irrevocability of it was anguish to her tortured imagination. And
+all the while she was conscious&mdash;vividly, terribly conscious&mdash;of Tots's
+presence, Tots's inscrutable scrutiny, Tots's triumph of possession. He
+would never let her go, she felt. She was his beyond all dispute. He had
+asked, and she had bestowed, not understanding what she was doing.</p>
+
+<p>There could be no withdrawal now. She could not picture herself asking
+for it, and she was sure he would not grant it if she did. He would only
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>There fell a sudden silence in the church&mdash;a curious, unnatural silence.
+It seemed to be growing very dark, and she wondered, panting, if it were
+the darkness that so smothered her. With a sharp movement she lifted her
+face, gasping as a half-drowned person gasps. And everywhere above,
+around her, were tiny, dancing points of light.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"That's better," said Tots. "Don't be frightened. It's all right."</p>
+
+<p>He rubbed her cheek softly, reassuringly, and then fell to chafing her
+weak hands. Ruth lay back against a grave-mound and stared at him. He
+was wonderfully gentle with her, almost like a woman. On her other side
+one of her fellow bridesmaids was stooping over her, holding a glass of
+water.</p>
+
+<p>"You fainted from the heat," she explained. "But you are better now. I
+shouldn't go back if I were you. It's just over."</p>
+
+<p>With a sense of shame Ruth withdrew her hand from Tots.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry," she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" said Tots kindly. "Nobody's blamin' you, my child. It's this
+infernal heat. You stay quietly here for a bit. I must go back and see
+that Danvers signs his name all right. But I'll come and fetch you
+afterwards."</p>
+
+<p>He departed, and Ruth suddenly realised an urgent need for solitude. She
+turned to her cousin.</p>
+
+<p>"Do please go! I shall be all right. It is cool and shady here. And they
+will be looking for you in the vestry. Please go! I will wait till&mdash;Tots
+comes back."</p>
+
+<p>Her cousin demurred a little, but it was obvious that her inclination
+fell in with Ruth's request, and it was also quite obvious that Ruth did
+not want her. So, after some persuasion, she yielded and went.</p>
+
+<p>During the interval that followed, Ruth sat in the quiet corner just out
+of sight of the vestry door, bracing herself to meet Tots and implore
+him to set her free. It was a bad quarter of an hour for her, and when,
+at the end of it, Tots came, she looked on the verge of fainting again.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry I couldn't come before," said Tots. "But my responsibilities are
+over now, thank the gods. I suppose, now, you didn't have time for
+anything to eat before you came?"</p>
+
+<p>This was the actual truth. Ruth owned it with a feeling of guilt. And
+suddenly she found that she could not speak then. There was something
+that made it impossible. Perhaps it was the loud clash of the bells
+overhead.</p>
+
+<p>"I am very sorry," she said again.</p>
+
+<p>Tots smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"You must manage better at our own weddin'," he said. "There's nothin'
+like fortifyin' yourself with a good substantial meal for an ordeal of
+this sort. You're feelin' better, eh? Take my arm."</p>
+
+<p>She obeyed him, still quivering with her fruitless effort to tell him of
+the miserable deception she had unintentionally practised upon him. She
+had a feeling that, if she made him angry, the world itself would stop.
+Surely no one had ever found Tots formidable before.</p>
+
+<p>At the touch of his hand upon hers, she started.</p>
+
+<p>"What's wrong with it?" queried Tots softly. "Doesn't it fit?"</p>
+
+<p>She glanced up in confusion. She was trembling so that she could
+scarcely stand. He slipped his arm about her reassuringly, comfortably.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind. We must look at it together. I'll take it back if it isn't
+right. We'll go through the church, shall we? It's the shortest way."</p>
+
+<p>He led her, unresisting, back into the building, and the clamour of the
+bells merged into the swelling chords of the organ. As they walked side
+by side down the empty aisle the strains of Mendelssohn's Wedding March
+transformed their progress into a triumphant procession, and Tots looked
+down into the girl's face with a smile....</p>
+
+<p>There was no help for it. She could not tell him to his face. Gradually
+the conviction dawned upon her through another night of racking thought.
+And there was only one thing left to do. She must go.</p>
+
+<p>Soon after sunrise she was up, and writing a note to her aunt. She
+experienced small difficulty in this. It was quite simple to express her
+thanks for all the kindness shown her, and to explain that she had
+decided to pay a visit to her old home. She scarcely touched upon the
+suddenness of her departure. The Careys were all of them sudden in their
+ways. This move of hers would hardly strike them as extraordinary. She
+was, moreover, so much a stranger among them that it did not seem to
+matter in the face of her great need what they thought.</p>
+
+<p>But a note to Tots was a different matter altogether, and she sat for
+nearly two hours motionless above a sheet of paper, considering. In the
+end she was again overcome by the almost physical impossibility of
+putting the intolerable situation into bald words. Simply, she felt
+utterly incapable of dealing with it. He had told her he was not joking.
+She had believed the contrary in spite of this assurance. And she had
+dared to trifle with him, to treat his offer as a jest.</p>
+
+<p>How could she explain, how apologise, for such a mistake as this? The
+thing was beyond words, and at length she gave up the attempt in
+despair. She would send him back his ring in silence, and perhaps he
+would understand. At least, he would know that she was unworthy of that
+which he had offered her. She took the ring from its hiding-place, and
+once more the sunlight flashed upon its stones. For a space she stood
+gazing fixedly, as one fascinated. And then, suddenly, inexplicably, her
+eyes filled with tears, and she packed up the little box hurriedly with
+fingers that trembled.</p>
+
+<p>She directed the parcel to Tots, and put it aside with the intention of
+posting it herself. A tiny strip of paper on the floor attracted her
+attention as she turned. She picked it up. It was only Tots's simple
+message in four short words. She caught her breath sharply as she
+slipped it into her dress....</p>
+
+<p>Home! Ruth Carey stood in the little inn-parlour that smelt of
+honeysuckle and stale tobacco, and looked across the village street. It
+looked even narrower than in the old days, and the pond on the green had
+shrunk to a mere dark puddle. The old grey church on the hill looked
+like a child's toy, and the quiet that brooded everywhere was the quiet
+of stagnation. An ancient dog was limping down the road&mdash;the only living
+thing in sight.</p>
+
+<p>The girl turned from the window with a heavy sigh. She was conscious of
+a great emptiness, of a craving too intense to be silenced, a feverish
+longing that had in it the elements of a bitter despair. She had fled
+from captivity to the desert. But she had not found relief. She had
+escaped indeed. But she was like to perish of starvation in the
+wilderness.</p>
+
+<p>She slept that night from sheer weariness, but, waking in the early
+morning, she lay for hours, listening to the cheery pipings of the
+birds, and wondering what she should do with her life. For there was no
+one belonging to her in a truly intimate sense. She had no near ties.
+There was no one who really wanted her, except&mdash;The burning colour
+rushed up to her temples. No; even he did not want her now. And again
+the loneliness and the emptiness seemed more than she could bear.</p>
+
+<p>Dressing, she told herself suddenly and passionately that her
+home-coming had been a miserable farce, a sham, and a delusion. And she
+called bitterly to mind words that she had once either read or heard:
+"Where the heart is, there is home."</p>
+
+<p>The scent of honeysuckle and stale tobacco was mingled with that of
+fried bacon as she opened the door of the inn-parlour. It rushed out to
+greet her in a nauseating wave, and she nearly shut the door again in
+disgust. But the sight of an immense bunch of roses waiting for her on
+the table checked the impulse. She went forward into the room and picked
+it up, burying her face in its fragrance.</p>
+
+<p>There was a tiny strip of paper twisted about one of the stalks which
+she did not at first perceive. When she did, she unfolded it, wondering.
+Four words met her eyes, written in minute characters, and it was as if
+a meteor had flamed suddenly across her sky. They were words that,
+curiously, had never ceased to ring in her brain since the moment she
+had first read them: "With love from Tots."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Fully five minutes passed before Ruth crossed the room to the
+honeysuckle-draped window, the roses pressed against her thumping heart.
+Outside, an ancient wooden bench that sagged dubiously in the middle
+stood against a crumbling stone wall. It was a bench greatly favoured by
+aged labourers in the summer evenings, but this morning it had but one
+occupant&mdash;a loose-knit, lounging figure with a straw hat drawn well down
+over the eyes, and a pipe thrust between the teeth.</p>
+
+<p>As Ruth gazed upon this negligent apparition, it suddenly moved, and the
+next instant it stood up in the sunshine and faced her, hat in one hand,
+pipe in the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Mornin'" said Tots. "Got somethin' nice for breakfast?" His brown face
+smiled imperturbably upon her. He looked pleased to see her, but not
+extravagantly so.</p>
+
+<p>Ruth fell back a step from the window, her roses clutched fast against
+her. She was for the moment speechless.</p>
+
+<p>Tots continued to smile sociably.</p>
+
+<p>"Nice, quiet little place&mdash;this," he said. "There's a touch of the
+antediluvian about it that I like. Good idea of yours, comin' here. No
+one to get in the way. It won't be disturbin' you if I sit on the
+window-sill while you have your breakfast?"</p>
+
+<p>Ruth experienced a sudden, hysterical desire to laugh. He was beyond
+her, this man&mdash;utterly, hopelessly beyond her.</p>
+
+<p>She sat down at the table, not with the idea of eating anything, but
+from a sense of sheer helplessness. Tots knocked the ashes from his pipe
+and took his seat on the window-sill. He did not seem to be aware of any
+strain in the situation.</p>
+
+<p>After a pause, during which Ruth sat motionless, he turned a little to
+survey her.</p>
+
+<p>"Not begun yet?" he queried.</p>
+
+<p>She looked back at him with a species of desperate courage.</p>
+
+<p>This sort of thing could not go on. She must be brave for once.
+Unconsciously she was still gripping the roses with both hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Waring&mdash;" she began.</p>
+
+<p>"Tots," he substituted gently.</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;Tots," she repeated unwillingly, "I&mdash;I want to ask you
+something."</p>
+
+<p>"Fire away!" said Tots.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to know&mdash;I want to know&mdash;" She stumbled again, and broke off in
+distress.</p>
+
+<p>Tots wheeled round as he sat, and brought his long legs into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't," she begged hastily. "I&mdash;I want you inside."</p>
+
+<p>He did not retire again, nor did he advance.</p>
+
+<p>"You want to know&mdash;" he said.</p>
+
+<p>With a stupendous effort she faced and answered him.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to know what made you ask me to marry you."</p>
+
+<p>Tots did not at once reply. He sat on his perch with his back to the
+light, and contemplated her.</p>
+
+<p>"I should have thought a clever little girl like you might have guessed
+that," he said at length.</p>
+
+<p>This was intolerable. She felt her courage ebbing fast.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not clever," she said, a desperate quiver in her voice, "and I&mdash;I'm
+not good at guessing riddles."</p>
+
+<p>In the silence that followed, she wondered wildly if she had made him
+angry at last. Then he spoke in his usual good-natured drawl, and her
+heart gave a great throb of relief.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you're chaffin'," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not," she assured him feverishly. "I'm not indeed. I always mean
+what I say. That is&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," said Tots, with kindly reassurance. "I knew that. Why, my
+dear child, that's just what made me do it. I took a likin' to you for
+that very reason."</p>
+
+<p>She stared at him speechlessly. There was absolutely nothing left to
+say. He really cared for her, it seemed. He really cared! And she? With
+a gasp of despair she abandoned the unequal strife, and hid her face
+from him in an agony of tears. Why, why, why, had this knowledge come to
+her so late?</p>
+
+<p>He was by her side in an instant, stroking, soothing, comforting her, as
+though she had been a child. When she partially recovered herself her
+head was against his shoulder, and he was drying her eyes clumsily but
+tenderly with his own handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>"There! there!" he said. "Don't cry any more. Some one's been troublin'
+you. Just let me know who it is, and I'll wring his neck."</p>
+
+<p>She raised herself weakly. The desire to laugh quite left her. She
+leaned her head in her hands, and forced down her tears.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;don't understand," she said at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't I?" said Tots. "Why, I thought we were gettin' on so well."</p>
+
+<p>"I know. I know." She was making a supreme effort. It must be now or
+never. "You have been very good to me. But&mdash;but&mdash;we never have got on
+really. It was all a mistake."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" said Tots.</p>
+
+<p>She fancied his tone had changed a little. It sounded somehow brisker
+than usual. He was angry, whispered her panting heart, and if she
+angered him&mdash;ah, how should she bear it? But the next instant a big,
+consoling hand pressed her shoulder, and the misgiving passed.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't tremble like this, little one," he said. "You can't be afraid of
+me. No one ever was before. There has been a mistake, you say. What was
+it? Can't you bring yourself to tell me?"</p>
+
+<p>There was something in his voice that moved her strangely, kindling that
+in her which turned her passionate regret to tragedy. Her head sank a
+little lower in her hands. How could she tell him? How could she? Yet he
+must know, even if&mdash;even if it transformed his love to hatred. The bare
+thought hurt her intolerably. He was the only friend she had. And
+yet&mdash;and yet&mdash;he must know. She swallowed a desperate sob, and spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been deceiving you. I've trifled with you. When you proposed to
+me&mdash;I didn't know&mdash;didn't realise&mdash;you were in earnest. No one had ever
+proposed to me before. I didn't understand. And when I accepted you&mdash;I
+wasn't in earnest either. I&mdash;I was just spiteful. Afterwards&mdash;when I
+found out&mdash;it was too late. I couldn't tell you then."</p>
+
+<p>The confession went haltingly out into silence. She dared not raise her
+head. Moreover, she was weeping, and she did not want him to know it.</p>
+
+<p>There was a motionless pause. Then at length the hand on her shoulder
+began to rub up and down, comfortingly, caressingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't cry!" said Tots. "Hadn't you better have some breakfast? That
+bacon must be gettin' pretty beastly."</p>
+
+<p>He was not angry, then. That was her first thought. And then again came
+that insane desire to laugh. After all, why was she crying? Tots
+apparently saw no cause for discomfiture.</p>
+
+<p>With an effort she controlled herself.</p>
+
+<p>"No; I'm not hungry," she said. "Won't you&mdash;please&mdash;settle this matter
+now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only stop cryin'," said Tots. "You have? I say, what a fib! Well, I
+suppose I must take your word for it. Now, little one, what is it you
+want me to do?"</p>
+
+<p>She raised her head in sheer astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>No, there was no trace of anger in his face, neither did it betray any
+disappointment. Complacent, kindly, quizzical, his eyes met hers, and
+her heart gave a sudden, inexplicable bound.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;thought you would understand," she faltered. "We&mdash;we can't go on
+being engaged, can we?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Tots with instant decision. "Shouldn't dream of borin' you to
+that extent. I've had enough of it myself as well." He uttered his
+pleasant, careless laugh. "I really don't wonder that my courtin' made
+you feel spiteful," he said. "I'm glad you're in favour of cuttin' it
+too."</p>
+
+<p>Ruth stared at him blankly. Was he laughing at her? Was this to be her
+punishment?</p>
+
+<p>He had straightened himself and was smiling down at her, his head within
+a foot of the bulging ceiling.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell you what!" he suddenly said. "You eat some breakfast like a good
+girl, and then&mdash;I'll show you somethin'. Perhaps you'll let me join
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>He did not wait for her consent, but sat down at the table. Ruth rose.
+He was putting her off, she felt, and she could not bear it. It had cost
+her more than he would ever realise to tell him the truth.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm very sorry," she said unsteadily, "but&mdash;I don't think we quite
+understand each other yet. You know"&mdash;her voice failed suddenly, but she
+struggled to recover it, and succeeded&mdash;"I am not clever&mdash;like other
+women. I want plain speaking, not hints, I want to be told&mdash;in so many
+words&mdash;that you have set me free."</p>
+
+<p>"Why should I tell you what isn't true?" said Tots. He stretched out his
+hand to her without rising. "I haven't set you free," he said, "and I'm
+not goin' to. Is that plain enough?"</p>
+
+<p>He caught her hand with the words and drew her gently towards him. "I'll
+tell you what I am goin' to do," he said. "Come quite close. I want to
+whisper. You needn't be anxious. This chair is strong enough for two."</p>
+
+<p>Gentle as he was in speech and action, there was something irresistible
+about him at that moment&mdash;something to which Ruth yielded because there
+was no alternative. She went to him trembling, and he drew her down
+beside him, holding her every instant closer to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Still frightened?" he asked her very tenderly. "Still wantin' to run
+away?"</p>
+
+<p>She hid her face against him dumbly. She could not answer him in words.</p>
+
+<p>He went on speaking, softly, soothingly, as if she had been a child.</p>
+
+<p>"People make a ridiculous fuss about gettin' married," he said. "It's
+the fashion nowadays to make a sort of Punch and Judy show of it for all
+the people one ever met, and a few hundreds besides, to come and gape
+at. But you and I are not goin' to do that. We're goin' to show some
+sense, and get married on the quiet, in a little village church I know
+of; and then we're goin' into retirement for a time, and when we come
+out we shall be old married people, and no one will want to pelt us with
+shoes and things. Now I've got a weddin'-ring in my pocket, and I hope
+it'll fit better than the other. And I've got a special license too.
+It's a nice, fine mornin', isn't it? And that's all we want. Let's have
+some breakfast, and then go and get married!"</p>
+
+<p>Ruth raised her head with a gasp. Unexpected as was the whole turn of
+events, she was utterly unprepared for this astounding suggestion.</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but&mdash;" she faltered.</p>
+
+<p>And then for the first time she saw Tots's eyes, opened wide and looking
+at her with an expression there was no mistaking. He took her face
+between his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know all that," he said, speaking below his breath. "But it
+doesn't count, dear&mdash;believe me, it doesn't. The only thing that is
+really indispensable, we have. So why not&mdash;make that do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know," she gasped. "I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>She was quivering as a harp quivers under the fingers of one who knows,
+and her whole soul was thrilling to the wild, tumultuous music that he
+had called into being there. It was almost more than she could
+bear&mdash;this miracle that had been wrought upon her. Tots's eyes still
+held her own, and it was as if thereby he showed her all that was best
+in life.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" he said again very softly.</p>
+
+<p>And suddenly she realised overwhelmingly how close his lips were to her
+own. In that moment she also knew that greater thing which is immortal.
+And so she answered him at last in his own words, with a rush of
+passionate willingness that swept away all fear:</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>As their lips met, it seemed to her that her eyes were opened for the
+first time in her life; and everywhere&mdash;above, around, within her&mdash;were
+living sparks, dazzling, wonderful, unquenchable, of the Eternal Flame.</p>
+
+<p>THE END</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+
+<h2><a name="Ethel_M._Dells_Novels" id="Ethel_M._Dells_Novels"></a>Ethel M. Dell's Novels</h2>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p>THE LAMP IN THE DESERT: The scene of this splendid story is laid in India and tells of the lamp
+of love that continues to shine through all sorts of tribulations to
+final happiness.</p>
+
+
+<p>GREATHEART: The story of a cripple whose deformed body conceals a noble soul.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE: A hero who worked to win even when there was only "a hundredth chance."</p>
+
+
+<p>THE SWINDLER: The story of a "bad man's" soul revealed by a woman's faith.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE TIDAL WAVE: Tales of love and of women who learned to know the true from the false.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE SAFETY CURTAIN: A very vivid love story of India. The volume also contains four other
+long stories of equal interest.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The Way of an Eagle</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The Knave of Diamonds</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The Rocks of Valpr&eacute;</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The Swindler</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The Keeper of the Door</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Bars of Iron</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Rosa Mundi</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The Top of the World</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The Obstacle Race</span></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWINDLER AND OTHER STORIES***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 18644-h.txt or 18644-h.zip *******</p>
+<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br />
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+</body>
+</html>
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--- /dev/null
+++ b/18644.txt
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Swindler 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: The Swindler and Other Stories
+
+
+Author: Ethel M. Dell
+
+
+
+Release Date: June 21, 2006  [eBook #18644]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWINDLER AND OTHER STORIES***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/)
+
+
+
+THE SWINDLER AND OTHER STORIES
+
+by
+
+ETHEL M. DELL
+
+Author of the Hundredth Chance, Etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Grosset & Dunlap Publishers New York
+Made in the United States of America
+
+This edition is issued under arrangement with the publishers
+G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York and London
+The Knickerbocker Press, New York
+
+The stories contained in this volume were originally published in the
+_Red Magazine_.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+The Swindler
+
+The Swindler's Handicap
+
+The Nonentity
+
+Her Hero
+
+The Example
+
+The Friend who Stood By
+
+The Right Man
+
+The Knight-Errant
+
+A Question of Trust
+
+Where the Heart Is
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                             The Swindler
+
+
+"When you come to reflect that there are only a few planks between you
+and the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, it makes you feel sort of
+pensive."
+
+"I beg your pardon?"
+
+The stranger, smoking his cigarette in the lee of the deck-cabins,
+turned his head sharply in the direction of the voice. He encountered
+the wide, unembarrassed gaze of a girl's grey eyes. She had evidently
+just come up on deck.
+
+"I beg yours," she rejoined composedly. "I thought at first you were
+some one else."
+
+He shrugged his shoulders, and turned away. Quite obviously he was not
+disposed to be sociable upon so slender an introduction.
+
+The girl, however, made no move to retreat. She stood thoughtfully
+tapping on the boards with the point of her shoe.
+
+"Were you playing cards last night down in the saloon?" she asked
+presently.
+
+"I was looking on."
+
+He threw the words over his shoulder, not troubling to turn.
+
+The girl shivered. The morning air was damp and chill.
+
+"You do a good deal of that, Mr.--Mr.--" She paused suggestively.
+
+But the man would not fill in the blank. He smoked on in silence.
+
+The vessel was rolling somewhat heavily, and the splash of the drifting
+foam reached them occasionally where they stood. There were no other
+ladies in sight. Suddenly the clear, American voice broke through the
+man's barrier of silence.
+
+"I know quite well what you are, you know. You may just as well tell me
+your name as leave me to find it out for myself."
+
+He looked at her then for the first time, keenly, even critically. His
+clean-shaven mouth wore a very curious expression.
+
+"My name is West," he said, after a moment.
+
+She nodded briskly.
+
+"Your professional name, I suppose. You are a professional, of course?"
+
+His eyes continued to watch her narrowly. They were blue eyes,
+piercingly, icily blue.
+
+"Why 'of course,' if one may ask?"
+
+She laughed a light, sweet laugh, inexpressibly gay. Cynthia Mortimer
+could be charmingly inconsequent when she chose.
+
+"I don't think you are a bit clever, you know," she said. "I knew what
+you were directly I saw you standing by the gangway watching the people
+coming on board. You looked really professional then, just as if you
+didn't care a red cent whether you caught your man or not. I knew you
+did care though, and I was ready to dance when I knew you hadn't got
+him. Think you'll track him down on our side?"
+
+West turned his eyes once more upon the heaving, grey water, carelessly
+flicking the ash from his cigarette.
+
+"I don't think," he said briefly. "I know."
+
+"You--know?" The wide eyes opened wider, but they gathered no
+information from the unresponsive profile that smoked the cigarette.
+"You know where Mr. Nat Verney is?" she breathed, almost in a whisper.
+"You don't say! Then--then you weren't really watching out for him at
+the gangway?"
+
+He jerked up his head with an enigmatical laugh.
+
+"My methods are not so simple as that," he said.
+
+Cynthia joined quite generously in his laugh, notwithstanding its hard
+note of ridicule. She had become keenly interested in this man, in spite
+of--possibly in consequence of--the rebuffs he so unsparingly
+administered. She was not accustomed to rebuffs, this girl with her
+delicate, flower-like beauty. They held for her something of the charm
+of novelty, and abashed her not at all.
+
+"And you really think you'll catch him?" she questioned, a note of
+honest regret in her voice.
+
+"Don't you want him to be caught?"
+
+He pitched his cigarette overboard and turned to her with less of
+churlishness in his bearing.
+
+She met his eyes quite frankly.
+
+"I should just love him to get away," she declared, with kindling eyes.
+"Oh, I know he's a regular sharper, and he's swindled heaps of
+people--I'm one of them, so I know a little about it. He swindled me out
+of five hundred dollars, and I can tell you I was mad at first. But now
+that he is flying from justice, I'm game enough to want him to get away.
+I suppose my sympathies generally lie with the hare, Mr. West. I'm sorry
+if it annoys you, but I was created that way."
+
+West was frowning, but he smiled with some cynicism over her last
+remarks.
+
+"Besides," she continued, "I couldn't help admiring him. He has a
+regular genius for swindling--that man. You'll agree with me there?"
+
+A sudden heavy roll of the vessel pitched her forward before he could
+reply. He caught her round the waist, saving her from a headlong fall,
+and she clung to him, laughing like a child at the mishap.
+
+"I think I'll have to go below," she decided regretfully. "But you've
+been good to me, and I'm glad I spoke. I've always been somewhat
+prejudiced against detectives till to-day. My cousin Archie--you saw him
+in the cardroom last night--vowed you were nothing half so interesting.
+Why is it, I wonder, that detectives always look like journalists?" She
+looked at him with eyes of friendly criticism. "You didn't deceive me,
+you see. But then"--ingenuously--"I'm clever in some ways, much more
+clever than you'd think. Now you won't cut me next time we meet, will
+you? Because--perhaps--I'm going to ask you to do something for me."
+
+"What do you want me to do?"
+
+The man's voice was hard, his eyes cold as steel, but his question had
+in it a shade--just a shade--of something warmer than mere curiosity.
+
+She took him into her confidence without an instant's hesitation.
+
+"My cousin Archie--you may have noticed--you were looking on last
+night--he's a very careless player, and headstrong too. But he can't
+afford to lose any, and I don't want him to come to grief. You see, I'm
+rather fond of him."
+
+"Well?"
+
+The man's brows were drawn down over his eyes. His expression was not
+encouraging.
+
+"Well," she proceeded, undismayed, "I saw you looking on, and you looked
+as if you knew a few things. So I thought you'd be a safe person to ask.
+I can't look after him; and his mother--well, she's worse than useless.
+But a man--a real strong man like you--is different. If I were to
+introduce you, couldn't you look after him a bit--just till we get
+across?"
+
+With much simplicity she made her request, but there was a tinge of
+anxiety in her eyes. Certainly West, staring steadily forth over the
+grey waste of tumbling waters, looked sufficiently forbidding.
+
+After several seconds of silence he flung an abrupt question:
+
+"Why don't you ask some one else?"
+
+"There is no one else," she answered.
+
+"No one else?" He made a gesture of impatient incredulity.
+
+"No one that I can trust," she explained.
+
+"And you trust me?"
+
+"Of course I do."
+
+"Why?" Again he looked at her with a piercing scrutiny. His eyes held a
+savage, almost a threatening expression.
+
+But the girl only laughed, lightly and confidently.
+
+"Why? Oh, just because you are trustworthy, I guess. I can't think of
+any other reason."
+
+West's look relaxed, became abstracted, and finally fell away from her.
+
+"You appear to be a lady of some discernment," he observed drily.
+
+She proffered her hand impulsively, her eyes dancing.
+
+"My, that's the first pretty thing you've said to me!" she declared
+flippantly. "I just like you, Mr. West!"
+
+West was feeling for his cigarette case. He gave her his hand without
+looking at her, as if her approbation did not greatly gratify him. When
+she was gone he moved away along the wind-swept deck with his collar up
+to his ears and his head bent to the gale. His conversation with the
+American girl had not apparently made him feel any more sociably
+inclined towards his fellow-passengers.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Certainly, as Cynthia had declared, young Archibald Bathurst was an
+exceedingly reckless player. He lacked the judgment and the cool brain
+essential to a good cardplayer, with the result that he lost much more
+often than he won. But notwithstanding this fact he had a passion for
+cards which no amount of defeat could abate--a passion which he never
+failed to indulge whenever an opportunity presented itself.
+
+At the very moment when his cousin was making her petition on his behalf
+to the surly Englishman on deck, he was seated in the saloon with three
+or four men older than himself, playing and losing, playing and losing,
+with almost unvarying monotony, yet with a feverish relish that had in
+it something tragic.
+
+He was only three-and-twenty, and, as he was wont to remark, ill-luck
+dogged him persistently at every turn. He never blamed himself when rash
+speculations failed, and he never profited by bitter experience. Simply,
+he was by nature a spendthrift, high-spirited, impulsive, weak, with
+little thought for the future and none at all for the past. Wherever he
+went he was popular. His gaiety and spontaneity won him favour. But no
+one took him very seriously. No one ever dreamed that his ill-luck was a
+cause for anything but mirth.
+
+A good deal of money had changed hands when the party separated to dine,
+but, though young Bathurst was as usual a loser, he displayed no
+depression. Only, as he sauntered away to his cabin, he flung a laughing
+challenge to those who remained:
+
+"See if I don't turn the tables presently!"
+
+They laughed with him, pursuing him with chaff till he was out of
+hearing. The boy was a game youngster, and he knew how to lose.
+Moreover, it was generally believed that he could afford to pay for his
+pleasures.
+
+But a man who met him suddenly outside his cabin read something other
+than indifference upon his flushed face. He only saw him for an instant.
+The next, Archie had swung past and was gone, a clanging door shutting
+him from sight.
+
+When the little knot of cardplayers reassembled after dinner their
+number was augmented. A short, broad-shouldered man, clean-shaven, with
+piercing blue eyes, had scraped acquaintance with one of them, and had
+accepted an invitation to join the play. Some surprise was felt among
+the rest, for this man had till then been disposed to hold aloof from
+his fellow-passengers, preferring a solitary cigarette to any amusements
+that might be going forward.
+
+A New York man named Rudd muttered to his neighbour that the fellow
+might be all right, but he had the eyes of a sharper. The neighbour in
+response murmured the words "private detective" and Rudd was relieved.
+
+Archie Bathurst was the last to arrive, and dropped into the place he
+had occupied all the afternoon. It was immediately facing the stranger,
+whom he favoured with a brief and somewhat disparaging stare before
+settling down to play.
+
+The game was a pure gamble. They played swiftly, and in silence. West
+seemed to take but slight interest in the issue, but he won steadily and
+surely. Young Bathurst, playing feverishly, lost and lost, and lost
+again. The fortunes of the other four players varied. But always the
+newcomer won his ventures.
+
+The evening was half over when Archie suddenly and loudly demanded
+higher stakes, to turn his luck, as he expressed it.
+
+"Double them if you like," said West.
+
+Rudd looked at him with a distrustful eye, and said nothing. The other
+players were disposed to accede to the boy's vehement request, and after
+a little discussion the matter was settled to his satisfaction. The game
+was resumed at higher points.
+
+Some onlookers had drawn round the table scenting excitement. Archie,
+sitting with his back to the wall, was playing with headlong
+recklessness. For a while he continued to lose, and then suddenly and
+most unexpectedly he began to win. A most rash speculation resulted in
+his favour, and from that moment it seemed that his luck had turned.
+Once or twice he lost, but these occasions were far outbalanced by
+several brilliant _coups_. The tide had turned at last in his favour.
+
+He played as a man possessed, swiftly and feverishly. It seemed that he
+and West were to divide the honours. For West's luck scarcely varied,
+and Rudd continued to look at him askance.
+
+For the greater part of an hour young Bathurst won with scarcely a
+break, till the spectators began to chaff him upon his outrageous
+success.
+
+"You'd better stop," one man warned him. "She's a fickle jade, you know,
+Bathurst. Take too much for granted, and she'll desert you."
+
+But Bathurst did not even seem to hear. He played with lowered eyes and
+twitching mouth, and his hands shook perceptibly. The gambler's lust was
+upon him.
+
+"He'll go on all night," murmured the onlookers.
+
+But this prophecy was not to be fulfilled.
+
+It was a very small thing that stemmed the racing current of the boy's
+success--no more than a slight click audible only to a few, and the
+tinkle of something falling--but in an instant, swift as a thunderbolt,
+the wings of tragedy swept down upon the little party gathered about the
+table.
+
+Young Bathurst uttered a queer, half-choked exclamation, and dived
+downwards. But the man next to him, an Englishman named Norton, dived
+also, and it was he who, after a moment, righted himself with something
+shining in his hand which he proceeded grimly to display to the whole
+assembled company. It was a small, folding mirror--little more than a
+toy, it looked--with a pin attached to its leathern back.
+
+Deliberately Norton turned it over, examining it in such a way that
+others might examine it too. Then, having concluded his investigation of
+this very simple contrivance, he slapped it down upon the table with a
+gesture of unutterable contempt.
+
+"The secret of success," he observed.
+
+Every one present looked at Archie, who had sunk back in his chair white
+to the lips. He seemed to be trying to say something, but nothing came
+of it.
+
+And then, quite calmly, ending a silence more terrible than any tumult
+of words, another voice made itself heard.
+
+"Even so, Mr. Norton." West bent forward and with the utmost composure
+possessed himself of the shining thing upon the table. "This is my
+property. I have been rooking you fellows all the evening."
+
+The avowal was so astounding and made with such complete _sang-froid_
+that no one uttered a word. Only every one turned from Archie to stare
+at the man who thus serenely claimed his own.
+
+He proceeded with unvarying coolness to explain himself.
+
+"It was really done as an experiment," he said. "I am not a card-sharper
+by profession, as some of you already know. But in the course of certain
+investigations not connected with the matter I now have in hand, I
+picked this thing up, and, being something of a specialist in certain
+forms of cheating, I made up my mind to try my hand at this and prove
+for myself its extreme simplicity. You see how easy it is to swindle,
+gentlemen, and the danger to which you expose yourselves. There is no
+necessity for me to explain the trick further. The instrument speaks for
+itself. It is merely a matter of dexterity, and keeping it out of
+sight."
+
+He held it up a second time before his amazed audience, twisted it this
+way and that, with the air of a conjurer displaying his smartest trick,
+attached it finally to the lapel of his coat, and rose.
+
+"As a practical demonstration it seems to have acted very well," he
+remarked. "And no harm done. If you are all satisfied, so am I."
+
+He collected the notes at his elbow with a single careless sweep of the
+hand, and tossed them into the middle of the table; then, with a brief,
+collective bow, he turned to go. But Rudd, the first to recover from his
+amazement, sprang impetuously to his feet. "One moment, sir!" he said.
+
+West stopped at once, a cold glint of humour in his eyes. Without a sign
+of perturbation he faced round, meeting the American's hostile scrutiny
+calmly, judicially.
+
+"I wish to say," said Rudd, "on behalf of myself, and--I think I may
+take it--on behalf of these other gentlemen also, that your action was a
+most dastardly piece of impertinence, to give it its tamest name.
+Naturally, we don't expect Court manners from one of your profession,
+but we do look for ordinary common honesty. But it seems that we look in
+vain. You have behaved like a mighty fine skunk, sir. And if you don't
+see that there's any crying need for a very humble apology, you've got
+about the thickest hide that ever frayed a horsewhip."
+
+Every one was standing by the time this elaborate threat was uttered,
+and it was quite obvious that Rudd voiced the general opinion. The only
+one whose face expressed no indignation was Archie Bathurst. He was
+leaning against the wall, mopping his forehead with a shaking hand.
+
+No one looked at him. All attention was centred upon West, who met it
+with a calm serenity suggestive of contempt. He showed himself in no
+hurry to respond to Rudd's indictment, and when he did it was not
+exclusively to Rudd that he spoke.
+
+"I am sorry," he coolly said, "that you consider yourselves aggrieved by
+my experiment. I do not myself see in what way I have injured you.
+However, perhaps you are the best judges of that. If you consider an
+apology due to you, I am quite ready to apologise."
+
+His glance rested for a second upon Archie, then slowly swept the entire
+assembly. There was scant humility about him, apologise though he might.
+
+Rudd returned his look with open disgust. But it was Norton who replied
+to West's calm defence of himself.
+
+"It is Bathurst who is the greatest loser," he said, with a glance at
+that young man, who was beginning to recover from his agitation. "It was
+a tom-fool trick to play, but it's done. You won't get another
+opportunity for your experiments on board this boat. So--if Bathurst is
+satisfied--I should say the sooner you apologise and clear out the
+better."
+
+"We will confiscate this, anyway," declared Rudd, plucking the mirror
+from West's coat.
+
+He flung it down, and ground his heel upon it with venomous intention.
+West merely shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I apologise," he said briefly, "singly and collectively, to all
+concerned in my experiment, especially"--he made a slight pause--"to Mr.
+Bathurst, whose run of luck I deeply regret to have curtailed. If Mr.
+Bathurst is satisfied, I will now withdraw."
+
+He paused again, as if to give Bathurst an opportunity to express an
+opinion. But Archie said nothing whatever. He was staring down upon the
+table, and did not so much as raise his eyes.
+
+West shrugged his shoulders again, ever so slightly, and swung slowly
+upon his heel. In a dead silence he walked away down the saloon. No one
+spoke till he had gone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A black, moaning night had succeeded the grey, gusty day. The darkness
+came down upon the sea like a pall, covering the long, heaving swell
+from sight--a darkness that wrapped close, such a darkness as could be
+felt--through which the spray drove blindly.
+
+There was small attraction for passengers on deck, and West grimaced to
+himself as he emerged from the heated cabins. Yet it was not altogether
+distasteful to him. He was a man to whom a calm atmosphere meant
+intolerable stagnation. He was essentially born to fight his way in the
+world.
+
+For a while he paced alone, to and fro, along the deserted deck, his
+hands behind him, the inevitable cigarette between his lips. But
+presently he paused and stood still close to the companion by which he
+had ascended. It was sheltered here, and he leaned against the woodwork
+by which Cynthia Mortimer had supported herself that morning, and smoked
+serenely and meditatively.
+
+Minutes passed. There came the sound of hurrying feet upon the stairs
+behind him, and he moved a little to one side, glancing downwards.
+
+The light at the head of the companion revealed a man ascending,
+bareheaded, and in evening dress. His face, upturned, gleamed deathly
+white. It was the face of Archie Bathurst.
+
+West suddenly squared his shoulders and blocked the opening.
+
+"Go and get an overcoat, you young fool!" he said.
+
+Archie gave a great start, stood a second, then, without a word, turned
+back and disappeared.
+
+West left his sheltered corner and paced forward across the deck. He
+came to a stand by the rail, gazing outwards into the restless darkness.
+There seemed to be the hint of a smile in his intent eyes.
+
+A few more minutes drifted away. Then there fell a step behind him; a
+hand touched his arm.
+
+"Can I speak to you?" Archie asked.
+
+Slowly West turned.
+
+"If you have anything of importance to say," he said.
+
+Archie faced him with a desperate resolution.
+
+"I want to ask you--I want to know--what in thunder you did it for!"
+
+"Eh?" said West. "Did what?"
+
+He almost drawled the words, as if to give the boy time to control his
+agitation.
+
+Archie stared at him incredulously.
+
+"You must know what I mean."
+
+"Haven't an idea."
+
+There was just a tinge of contempt this time in the words. What an
+unconscionable bungler the fellow was!
+
+"But you must!" persisted Archie, blundering wildly. "I suppose you knew
+what you were doing just now when--when----"
+
+"I generally know what I am doing," observed West.
+
+"Then why----"
+
+Archie stumbled again, and fell silent, as if he had hurt himself.
+
+"I don't always care to discuss my motives," said West very decidedly.
+
+"But surely--" Archie suddenly pulled up, realising that by this
+spasmodic method he was making no headway. "Look here, sir," he said,
+more quietly, "you've done a big thing for me to-night--a dashed fine
+thing! Heaven only knows what you did it for, but----"
+
+"I have done nothing whatever for you," said West shortly. "You make a
+mistake."
+
+"But you'll admit----"
+
+"I admit nothing."
+
+He made as if he would turn on his heel, but Archie caught him by the
+arm.
+
+"I know I'm a cur," he said. And his voice shook a little. "I don't
+wonder you won't speak to me. But there are some things that can't be
+left unsaid. I'm going down now, at once, to tell those fellows what
+actually happened."
+
+"Then you are going to make a big fool of yourself to no purpose," said
+West.
+
+He stood still, scanning the boy's face with pitiless eyes. Archie
+writhed impotently.
+
+"I can't stand it!" he said, with vehemence. "I thought I was blackguard
+enough to let you do it. But--no doubt I'm a fool, as you say--I find I
+can't."
+
+"You can't help yourself," said West. He planted himself squarely in
+front of Archie. "Listen to this!" he said. "You know what I am?"
+
+"They say you are a detective," said Archie.
+
+West nodded.
+
+"Exactly. And, as such, I do whatever suits my purpose without
+explaining why to the rest of the world. If you are fortunate enough to
+glean a little advantage from what I do, take it, and be quiet about it.
+Don't hamper me with your acknowledgments. I assure you I have no more
+concern for your ultimate fate than those fellows below that you've been
+swindling all the evening. One thing I will say, though, for your
+express benefit. You will never make a good, even an indifferently good,
+gambler. And as to card-sharping, you've no talent whatever. Better give
+it up."
+
+His blue eyes looked straight at Archie with a stare that was openly
+supercilious, and Archie stood abashed.
+
+"You--you are awfully good," he stammered at length.
+
+West's brief laugh lived in his memory for long after. It held an
+indescribable sting, almost as if the man resented something. Yet the
+next moment unexpectedly he held out his hand.
+
+"A matter of opinion," he observed drily. "Good-night! Remember what I
+have said to you."
+
+"I shall never forget it," Archie said earnestly.
+
+He wrung the extended hand hard, waited an instant, then, as West turned
+from him with that slight characteristic lift of the shoulders, he moved
+away and went below.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"I'd just like a little talk with you, Mr. West, if I may." Lightly the
+audacious voice arrested him, and, as it were, against his will, West
+stood still.
+
+She was standing behind him in the morning sunshine, her hair blown all
+about her face, her grey eyes wide and daring, full of an alert
+friendliness that could not be ignored. She moved forward with her
+light, free step and stood beside him. West was smoking as usual. His
+expression was decidedly surly. Cynthia glanced at him once or twice
+before she spoke.
+
+"You mustn't mind what I'm going to ask you," she said at length gently.
+"Now, Mr. West, what was it--exactly--that happened in the saloon last
+night? Surely you'll tell me by myself if I promise--honest Injun--not
+to tell again."
+
+"Why should I tell you?" said West, in his brief, unfriendly style.
+
+Cynthia was undaunted. "Because you're a gentleman," she said boldly.
+
+He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what reason I have given you to
+say so."
+
+"No?" She looked at him with a funny little smile. "Well then, I just
+feel it in my bones; and nothing you do or leave undone will make me
+believe the contrary."
+
+"Much obliged to you," said West. His blue eyes were staring straight
+out over the sea to the long, blue sky-line. He seemed too absorbed in
+what he saw to pay much attention to the girl beside him.
+
+But she was not to be shaken off. "Mr. West," she began again, breaking
+in upon his silence, "do you know what they are saying about you
+to-day?"
+
+"Haven't an idea."
+
+"No," she said. "And I don't suppose you care either. But I care. It
+matters a lot to me."
+
+"Don't see how," threw in West.
+
+He turned in his abrupt, disconcerting way, and gave her a piercing
+look. She averted her face instantly, but he had caught her unawares.
+
+"Good heavens!" he said. "What's the matter?"
+
+"Nothing," she returned, with a sort of choked vehemence. "There's
+nothing the matter with me. Only I'm feeling badly about--about what I
+asked you to do yesterday. I'd sooner have lost every dollar I have in
+the world, if I had only known, than--than have you do--what you did."
+
+"Good heavens!" West said again.
+
+He waited a little then, looking down at her as she leaned upon the rail
+with downcast face. At length, as she did not raise her head, he
+addressed her for the first time on his own initiative:
+
+"Miss Mortimer!"
+
+She made a slight movement to indicate that she was listening, but she
+remained gazing down into the green and white of the racing water.
+
+Unconsciously he moved a little nearer to her. "There is no occasion for
+you to feel badly," he said. "I had my own reasons for what I did. It
+doesn't much matter what they were. But let me tell you for your comfort
+that neither socially nor professionally has it done me any harm."
+
+"They are all saying: 'Set a thief to catch a thief,'" she interposed,
+with something like a sob in her voice.
+
+"They can say what they like."
+
+West's tone expressed the most stoical indifference, but she would not
+be comforted.
+
+"If only I hadn't--asked you to!" she murmured.
+
+He made his peculiar, shrugging gesture. "What does it matter? Moreover,
+what you asked of me was something quite apart from this. It had nothing
+whatever to do with it."
+
+She stood up sharply at that, and faced him with burning eyes. "Oh,
+don't tell me that lie!" she exclaimed passionately. "I'm not such a
+child as to be taken in by it. You don't deceive me at all, Mr. West. I
+know as well as you do--better--that the man who did the swindling last
+night was not you. And I'm sick--I'm downright sick--whenever I think of
+it!"
+
+West's expression changed slightly as he looked at her. He seemed to
+regard her as a doctor regards the patient for whom he contemplates a
+change of treatment.
+
+"See here," he abruptly said. "You are distressing yourself all to no
+purpose. If you will promise to keep it secret, I'll tell you the facts
+of the case."
+
+Cynthia's face changed also. She caught eagerly at the suggestion.
+"Yes?" she said. "Yes? I promise, of course. And I'm quite trustworthy."
+
+"I believe you are," he said, with a grim smile. "Well, the fact of the
+matter is this. The man we want is on board this ship, but being only a
+private detective, I don't possess a warrant for his arrest. Therefore
+all I can do is to keep him in sight. And I can only do that by throwing
+him as far as possible off the scent. If he takes me for a card-sharper,
+all the better. For he's as slippery as an eel, and I have to play him
+pretty carefully."
+
+He ceased. Cynthia's eyes were growing wider and wider.
+
+"Nat Verney on board this ship?" she gasped.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Yes. You wanted him to get away, didn't you? But I don't think he will,
+this time. He will probably be arrested directly we reach New York. But,
+meantime, I must watch out."
+
+"Oh!" breathed Cynthia. "Then"--with sudden hope dawning in her
+eyes--"it really was your doing, that trick at the card-table last
+night?"
+
+West uttered his brief, hard laugh.
+
+"What do you take me for?"
+
+She heaved a great sigh of relief.
+
+"And it wasn't Archie, after all? I'm thankful you told me. I thought--I
+thought--But it doesn't matter, does it? Tell me, do tell me, Mr. West,"
+drawing very close to him, "which--which is Mr. Nat Verney?"
+
+West seemed to hesitate.
+
+"Oh, do tell me!" she begged. "I know I'm only a woman, but I always
+keep my word. And it's only two days more to New York."
+
+He looked closely into her eyes and yielded.
+
+"I'm trusting you with my reputation," he said. "It's the stout,
+red-faced man called Rudd."
+
+"Mr. Rudd?" She started back. "You don't say? That man?" There followed
+a short pause while she digested the information. Then, as on the
+previous morning, she suddenly extended her hand. "Well, I hate that
+man, anyway. And I believe you're really clever. If you like, Mr. West,
+I'll help you to watch out."
+
+"Thanks!" said West. He took the little hand into a tight grip, still
+looking straight into her eyes. There was a light in his own that shone
+like a blue flame. "Thanks!" he said again, as he released it. "You're
+very good, Miss Mortimer. But you mustn't be seen with me, you know.
+You've got to remember that I'm a swindler."
+
+The girl laughed aloud. It pleased her to feel that this taciturn man
+had taken her into his confidence at last. "I shall remember," she said
+lightly.
+
+And she went away, not only comforted, but gay of heart.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+During the remainder of the voyage, West was treated with extreme
+coolness by every one. It did not seem to abash him in the least. He
+came and went in the crowd with the utmost _sang-froid_, always
+preoccupied, always self-contained. Cynthia observed him from a distance
+with admiration. The man had taken her fancy. She was keenly interested
+in his methods, as well as in his decidedly unusual personality. She
+observed Rudd also, and noted the obvious suspicion with which he
+regarded West. On the night before their arrival she saw the latter
+alone for a moment, and whispered to him that Mr. Rudd seemed uneasy. At
+which information West merely laughed sardonically. He was holding a
+small parcel, to which, after a moment, he drew her attention.
+
+"I was going to ask you to accept this," he said. "It is nothing very
+important, but I should like you to have it. Don't open it before
+to-morrow."
+
+"What is it?" asked Cynthia, in surprise.
+
+He frowned in his abrupt way.
+
+"It doesn't matter; something connected with my profession. I shouldn't
+give it you, if I didn't know you were to be trusted."
+
+"But--but"--she hesitated a little--"ought I to take it?"
+
+He raised his shoulders.
+
+"I shall give it to the captain for you, if you don't. But I would
+rather give it to you direct."
+
+In face of this, Cynthia yielded, feeling as if he compelled her.
+
+"But mayn't I open it?"
+
+"No." West's eyes held hers for a second. "Not till to-morrow. And, in
+case we don't meet again, I'll say good-bye."
+
+"But we shall meet in New York?" she urged, with a sudden sense of loss.
+"Or perhaps in Boston? My father would really like to meet you."
+
+"Much obliged," said West, with his grim smile. "But I'm not much of a
+society man. And I don't think I shall find myself in Boston at
+present."
+
+"Then--then--I sha'n't see you again--ever?" Cynthia's tone was
+unconsciously tragic. Till that moment she had scarcely realised how
+curiously strong an attraction this man held for her.
+
+West's expression changed. His emotionless blue eyes became suddenly
+more blue, and intense with a vital fire. He leaned towards her as one
+on the verge of vehement speech.
+
+Then abruptly his look went beyond her, and he checked himself.
+
+"Who knows?" he said carelessly. "Good-bye for the present, anyway! It's
+been a pleasant voyage."
+
+He straightened himself with the words, nodded, and turned aside without
+so much as touching her hand.
+
+And Cynthia, glancing round with an instinctive feeling of discomfiture,
+saw Rudd with another man, standing watching them at the end of the
+passage.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the dark of early morning they reached New York. Most of the
+passengers decided to remain on board for breakfast, which was served at
+an early hour in the midst of a hubbub and turmoil indescribable.
+
+Cynthia, with her aunt and Archie, partook of a hurried meal in the
+thick of the ever-shifting crowd. She looked in vain for West, her grey
+eyes searching perpetually.
+
+One friend after another came up to bid them good-bye, stood a little,
+talking, and presently drifted away. The whole ship from end to end
+hummed like a hive of bees.
+
+She was glad when at length she was able to escape from the noisy
+saloon. She had not slept well, and her nerves were on edge. The memory
+of that interrupted conversation with West, of the confidence unspoken,
+went with her continually. She had an almost feverish longing to see him
+once more, even though it were in the heart of the crowd. He had been
+about to tell her something. Of that she was certain. She had an
+intense, an almost passionate desire to know what it was. Surely he
+would not--he could not--go ashore without seeing her again!
+
+She had not intended to open the packet he had given her till she was
+ashore herself, but a palpitating curiosity tugged ever at her
+resolution till at length she could resist it no longer. West was
+nowhere to be seen, and she felt she must know more. It was intolerable
+to be thus left in the dark. Through the scurrying multitude of
+departing passengers, she began to make her way back to her cabin. Her
+progress was of necessity slow, and once in a crowded corner she was
+stopped altogether.
+
+Two men were talking together close to her. Their backs were towards
+her, and in the general confusion they did not observe her futile
+impatience to pass.
+
+"Oh, I knew the fellow was a wrong 'un, all along," were the first words
+that filtered to the girl's consciousness as she stood. "But I didn't
+think he was responsible for that card trick, I must say. Young Bathurst
+looked so abominably hangdog."
+
+It was the Englishman, Norton, who spoke, and the man who stood with him
+was Rudd. Cynthia realised the near presence of the latter with a
+sensation of disgust. His drawling tones grated upon her intolerably.
+
+"Waal," he said, "it was just that card trick that opened my eyes--I
+shouldn't have noticed him, otherwise. I knew that young Bathurst was
+square. He hasn't the brains to be anything else. And when this chap
+butted in with his thick-ribbed impudence, I guessed right then that we
+hadn't got a beginner to deal with. After that I watched for a bit, and
+there were several little things that made me begin to reflect. So the
+next evening I got a wireless message off to my partner in New York, and
+I reckon that did the trick. When we came up alongside this morning, the
+vultures were all ready for him. I took them to his cabin myself. There
+was no fuss at all. He saw it was all up, and gave in without a murmur.
+They were only just in time, though. In another thirty seconds, he would
+have been off. It was a clever piece of work, I flatter myself, to net
+Mr. Nat Verney so neatly."
+
+The Englishman began to laugh, but suddenly broke off short as a girl's
+face, white and quivering, came between them.
+
+"Who is this man?" the high, breathless voice demanded. "Which--which is
+Mr. Nat Verney?"
+
+Rudd looked down at her through narrowed eyes. He was smiling--a small,
+bitter smile.
+
+"Waal, Miss Mortimer," he began, "I reckon you have first right to
+know----"
+
+She turned from him imperiously.
+
+"You tell me," she commanded Norton.
+
+Norton looked genuinely uncomfortable, and, probably in consequence, he
+answered her with a gruffness that sounded brutal.
+
+"It was West. He has been arrested. His own fault entirely. No one would
+have suspected him if he hadn't been a fool, and given his own show
+away."
+
+"He wasn't a fool!" Cynthia flashed back fiercely. "He was my friend!"
+
+"I shouldn't be in too great a hurry to claim that distinction,"
+remarked Rudd. "He's about the best-known rascal in the two
+hemispheres."
+
+But Cynthia did not wait to hear him. She had slipped past, and was
+gone.
+
+In her own cabin at last, she bolted the door and tore open that packet
+connected with his profession which he had given her the night before.
+It contained a roll of notes to the value of a hundred pounds, wrapped
+in a sheet of notepaper on which was scrawled a single line: "With
+apologies from the man who swindled you."
+
+There was no signature of any sort. None was needed! When Cynthia
+finally left her cabin an hour later, her eyes were bright with that
+brightness which comes from the shedding of many tears.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+The Swindler's Handicap
+
+A SEQUEL TO "THE SWINDLER"
+
+_Which I Dedicate to the Friend Who Asked for it._
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+"Yes, but what's the good of it?" said Cynthia Mortimer gently. "I can
+never marry you."
+
+"You might be engaged to me for a bit, anyhow," he urged, "and see how
+you like it."
+
+She made a quaint gesture with her arms, as though she tried to lift
+some heavy weight.
+
+"I am very sorry," she said, in the same gentle voice. "It's very nice
+of you to think of it, Lord Babbacombe. But--you see, I'm quite sure I
+shouldn't like it. So that ends it, doesn't it?"
+
+He stood up to his full height, and regarded her with a faint, rueful
+smile.
+
+"You're a very obstinate girl, Cynthia," he said.
+
+She leaned back in her chair, looking up at him with clear, grey eyes
+that met his with absolute freedom.
+
+"I'm not a girl at all, Jack," she said. "I gave up all my pretensions
+to youth many, many years ago."
+
+He nodded, still faintly smiling.
+
+"You were about nineteen, weren't you?"
+
+"No. I was past twenty-one." A curious note crept into her voice; it
+sounded as if she were speaking of the dead. "It--was just twelve years
+ago," she said.
+
+Babbacombe's eyebrows went up.
+
+"What! Are you past thirty? I had no idea."
+
+She laughed at him--a quick, gay laugh.
+
+"Why, it's eight years since I first met you."
+
+"Is it? Great heavens, how the time goes--wasted time, too, Cynthia! We
+might have been awfully happy together all this time. Well"--with a
+sharp sigh--"we can't get it back again. But anyhow, we needn't squander
+any more of it, if only you will be reasonable."
+
+She shook her head; then, with one of those quick impulses that were a
+part of her charm, she sprang lightly up and gave him both her hands.
+
+"No, Jack," she said. "No--no--no! I'm not reasonable. I'm just a
+drivelling, idiotic fool. But--but I love my foolishness too well ever
+to part with it. Ever, did I say? No, even I am not quite so foolish as
+that. But it's sublime enough to hold me till--till I know for certain
+whether--whether the thing I call love is real or--or--only--a sham."
+
+There was passion in her voice, and her eyes were suddenly full of
+tears; but she kept them upturned to his as though she pleaded with him
+to understand.
+
+He looked down at her very kindly, very steadily, holding her hands
+closely in his own. There was no hint of chagrin on his clean-shaven
+face--only the utmost kindness.
+
+"Don't cry!" he said gently. "Tell me about this sublime foolishness of
+yours--about the thing you call--love. I might help you, perhaps--who
+knows?--to find out if it is the real thing or not."
+
+Her lips were quivering.
+
+"I've never told a soul," she said. "I--am half afraid."
+
+"Nonsense, dear!" he protested.
+
+"But I am," she persisted. "It's such an absurd romance--this
+of mine, so absurd that you'll laugh at it, just at first. And
+then--afterwards--you will--disapprove."
+
+"My dear girl," he said, "you have never entertained the smallest regard
+for my opinion before. Why begin to-day?"
+
+She laughed a little, turning from him to brush away her tears.
+
+"Sit down," she said, "and--and smoke--those horrid strong cigarettes of
+yours. I love the smell. Perhaps I'll try and tell you. But--mind,
+Jack--you're not to look at me. And you're not to say a single word till
+I've done. Just--smoke, that's all."
+
+She settled herself on the low fender-cushion with her face turned from
+him to the fire. Lord Babbacombe sat down as she desired, and took out
+and lighted a cigarette.
+
+As the scent of it reached her she began to speak in the high, American
+voice he had come to love. There was nothing piercing about it; it was a
+clear, sweet treble.
+
+"It happened when I was travelling under Aunt Bathurst's wing. You know,
+it was with her and my cousin Archie that I first did Europe. My! It was
+a long time ago! I've been round the world four times since then--twice
+with poor dear Daddy, once with Mrs. Archie, after he died, and the last
+time--alone. And I didn't like that last time a mite. I was like the man
+in _The Pilgrim's Progress_--I took my hump wherever I went. Still, I
+had to do something. You were big-game shooting. I'd have gone with you
+if you'd have had me unmarried. But I knew you wouldn't, so I just had
+to mess around by myself. Oh, but I was tired--I was tired! But I kept
+saying to myself it was the last journey before--Jack, if you don't
+smoke your cigarette will go out. Where was I? I'm afraid I'm boring
+you. You can go to sleep if you like. Well, it was on the voyage back.
+There was a man on board that every one said was a private detective. It
+was at the time of the great Nat Verney swindles. You remember, of
+course? And somehow we all jumped to the conclusion that he was tracking
+him. I remember seeing him when we first went on board at Liverpool. He
+was standing by the gangway watching the crowd with the bluest eyes on
+earth, and I took him for a detective right away. But--for all
+that--there was something about him--something I kind of liked, that
+made me feel I wanted to know him. He was avoiding everybody, but I made
+him talk to me. You know my way."
+
+She paused for a moment, and leaning forward, gazed into the heart of
+the fire with wide, intent eyes.
+
+The man in the chair behind her smoked on silently with a drawn face.
+
+"He was very horrid to me," she went on, her voice soft and slow as
+though she were describing something seen in a vision, "the only man who
+ever was. But I--do you know, I liked him all the more for that? I
+didn't flirt with him. I didn't try. He wasn't the sort one could flirt
+with. He was hard--hard as iron, clean-shaven, with an immensely
+powerful jaw, and eyes that looked clean through you. He was one of
+those short, broad Englishmen--you know the sort--out of proportion
+everywhere, but so splendidly strong. He just hated me for making
+friends with him. It was very funny."
+
+An odd little note of laughter ran through the words--that laughter
+which is akin to tears.
+
+"But I didn't care for that," she said. "It didn't hurt me in the least.
+He was too big to give offence to an impudent little minx like me.
+Besides, I wanted him to help me, and after a bit I told him so.
+Archie--my cousin, you know; he was only a boy then--was mad on
+card-playing at that time. And I was real worried about him. I knew he
+would get into a hole sooner or later, and I begged my surly Englishman
+to keep an eye on him. Oh, I was a fool! I was a brainless, chattering
+fool! And I'm not much better now, I often think."
+
+Cynthia's hand went up to her eyes. The vision in the fire was all
+blurred and indistinct.
+
+Babbacombe was leaning forward, listening intently. The firelight
+flickered on his face, showing it very grave and still. He did not
+attempt to speak.
+
+Nevertheless, after a moment, Cynthia made a wavering movement with one
+hand in his direction.
+
+"I'm not crying, Jack. Don't be silly! I'm sure your cigarette is out."
+
+It was. He pitched it past her into the fire.
+
+"Light another," she pleaded. "I love them so. They are the kind he
+always smoked. That's nearly the end of the story. You can almost guess
+the rest. That very night Archie did get into a hole, a bad one, and the
+only way my friend could lift him out was by getting down into it
+himself. He saved him, but it was at his own expense; for it made people
+begin to reflect. And in the end--in the end, when we came into harbour,
+they came on board, and--and arrested him early in the morning--before I
+knew. You see, he--he was Nat Verney."
+
+Cynthia's dark head was suddenly bowed upon her hands. She was rocking
+to and fro in the firelight.
+
+"And it was my fault," she sobbed--"all my fault. If--if he hadn't done
+that thing for me, no one would have known--no one would have
+suspected!"
+
+She had broken down completely at last, and the man who heard her
+wondered, with a deep compassion, how often she had wept, in secret and
+uncomforted, as she was weeping now.
+
+He bore it till his humanity could endure no longer. And then, very
+gently, he reached out, touched her, drew her to him, pillowed her head
+on his shoulder.
+
+"Don't cry, Cynthia," he whispered earnestly. "It's heart-breaking work,
+dear, and it doesn't help. There! Let me hold you till you feel better.
+You can't refuse comfort from an old friend like me."
+
+She yielded to him mutely for a little, till her grief had somewhat
+spent itself. Then, with a little quivering smile, she lifted her head
+and looked him straight in the face.
+
+"Thank you, Jack," she said. "You--you've done me good. But it's not
+good for you, is it? I've made you quite damp. You don't think you'll
+catch cold?"--dabbing at his shoulder with her handkerchief.
+
+He took her hand and stayed it.
+
+"There is nothing in this world," he said gravely "that I would so
+gladly do as help you, Cynthia. Will you believe this, and treat me from
+this stand-point only?"
+
+She turned back to the fire, but she left her hand in his.
+
+"My dear," she said, in an odd little choked voice, "it's just like you
+to say so, and I guess I sha'n't forget it. Well, well! There's my
+romance in a nutshell. He didn't care a fig for me till just the last.
+He cared then, but it was too late to come to anything. They shipped him
+back again you know, and he was sentenced to fifteen years' penal
+servitude. He's done nearly twelve, and he's coming out next month on
+ticket-of-leave."
+
+"Oh, Cynthia!"
+
+Babbacombe bent his head suddenly upon her hand, and sat tense and
+silent.
+
+"I know," she said--"I know. It sounds simply monstrous, put into bald
+words. I sometimes wonder myself if it can possibly be true--if I,
+Cynthia Mortimer, can really be such a fool. But I can't possibly tell
+for certain till I see him again. I must see him again somehow. I've
+waited all these years--all these years."
+
+Babbacombe groaned.
+
+"And suppose, when you've seen him, you still care?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"What then, Jack? I don't know; I don't know."
+
+He pulled himself together, and sat up.
+
+"Do you know where he is?"
+
+"Yes. He is at Barren Hill. He has been there for five years now. My
+solicitor knows that I take an interest in him. He calls it
+philanthropy." Cynthia smiled faintly into the fire. "I was one of the
+people he swindled," she said. "But he paid me back."
+
+She rose and went across the room to a bureau in a corner. She unlocked
+a drawer, and took something from it. Returning, she laid a packet of
+notes in Babbacombe's hands.
+
+"I could never part with them," she said. "He gave them to me in a
+sealed parcel the last time I saw him. It's only a hundred pounds. Yes,
+that was the message he wrote. Can you read it? 'With apologies from the
+man who swindled you.' As if I cared for the wretched money!"
+
+Babbacombe frowned over the writing in silence.
+
+"Why don't you say what you think, Jack?" she said. "Why don't you call
+him a thieving scoundrel and me a poor, romantic fool!"
+
+"I am trying to think how I can help you," he answered quietly. "Have
+you any plans?"
+
+"No, nothing definite," she said. "It is difficult to know what to do.
+He knows one thing--that he has a friend who will help him when he comes
+out. He will be horribly poor, you know, and I'm so rich. But, of
+course, I would do it anonymously. And he thinks his friend is a man."
+
+Babbacombe pondered with drawn brows.
+
+"Cynthia," he said slowly, at length, "suppose I take this matter into
+my own hands, suppose I make it possible for you to see this man once
+more, will you be guided entirely by me? Will you promise me solemnly to
+take no rash step of any description; in short, to do nothing without
+consulting me? Will you promise me, Cynthia?"
+
+He spoke very earnestly. The firelight showed her the resolution on his
+face.
+
+"Of course I will promise you, Jack," she said instantly. "I would trust
+myself body and soul in your keeping. But what can you do?"
+
+"I might do this," he said. "I might pose as his unknown friend--another
+philanthropist, Cynthia." He smiled rather grimly. "I might get hold of
+him when he comes out, give him something to do to keep his head above
+water. If he has any manhood in him, he won't mind what he takes. And I
+might--later, if I thought it practicable--I only say 'if,' Cynthia, for
+after many years of prison life a man isn't always fit company for a
+lady--I might arrange that you should see him in some absolutely casual
+fashion. If you consent to this arrangement you must leave that entirely
+to me."
+
+"But you will hate to do it!" she exclaimed.
+
+He rose. "I will do it for your sake," he said. "I shall not hate it if
+it makes you see things--as they are."
+
+"Oh, but you are good," she said tremulously--"you are good!"
+
+"I love a good woman," he answered gravely.
+
+And with that he turned and left her alone in the firelight with her
+romance.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+It was early on a dark November day that the prison gate at Barren Hill
+opened to allow a convict who had just completed twelve years' penal
+servitude to pass out a free man.
+
+A motor car was drawn up at the side of the kerb as he emerged, and a
+man in a long overcoat, with another slung on his arm, was pacing up and
+down.
+
+He wheeled at the closing of the gate, and they stood face to face.
+
+There was a moment's difficult silence; then the man with the motor
+spoke.
+
+"Mr. West, I think?"
+
+The other looked him up and down in a single comprehensive glance that
+was like the flash of a sword blade.
+
+"Certainly," he said curtly, "if you prefer it."
+
+He was a short, thick-set man of past forty, with a face so grimly lined
+as to mask all expression. His eyes alone were vividly alert. They were
+the bluest eyes that Babbacombe had ever seen.
+
+He accepted the curt acknowledgment with grave courtesy, and made a
+motion toward the car.
+
+"Will you get in? My name is Babbacombe. I am here to meet you, as no
+doubt you have been told. You had better wear this"--opening out the
+coat he carried.
+
+But West remained motionless, facing him on the grey, deserted road.
+"Before I come with you," he said, in his brief, clipped style, "there
+is one thing I want to know. Are you patronising me for the sake of
+philanthropy, or for--some other reason?"
+
+As he uttered the question, he fixed Babbacombe with a stare that was
+not without insolence.
+
+Babbacombe did not hesitate in his reply. He was not a man to be lightly
+disconcerted.
+
+"You can put it down to anything you like," he said, "except
+philanthropy."
+
+West considered a moment.
+
+"Very well, sir," he said finally, his aggressive tone slightly
+modified. "In that case I will come with you."
+
+He turned about, and thrust his arms into the coat Babbacombe held for
+him, turned up the collar, and without a backward glance, stepped into
+the waiting motor.
+
+Babbacombe started the engine, and followed him. In another moment they
+had glided away into the dripping mist, and the prison was left behind.
+
+Through mile after mile they sped in silence. West sat with his chin
+buried in his coat, his keen eyes staring straight ahead. Babbacombe, at
+the wheel, never glanced at him once.
+
+Through villages, through towns, through long stretches of open country
+they glided, sometimes slackening, but never stopping. The sun broke
+through at length, revealing a country of hills and woods and silvery
+running streams. They had been travelling for hours. It was nearly noon.
+
+For the first time since their start Babbacombe spoke.
+
+"I hope I haven't kept you going too long. We are just getting in."
+
+"Don't mind me," said West.
+
+Babbacombe was slackening speed.
+
+"It's a fine hunting country," he observed.
+
+"Whose is it?" asked West.
+
+"Mine, most of it." They were running smoothly down a long avenue of
+beech trees, with a glimpse of an open gateway at the end.
+
+"It must take some managing," remarked West.
+
+"It does," Babbacombe answered. "It needs a capable man."
+
+They reached the gateway, passing under an arch of stone. Beyond it lay
+wide stretches of park land. Rabbits scuttled in the sunshine, and under
+the trees here and there they had glimpses of deer.
+
+"Ever ridden to hounds?" asked Babbacombe.
+
+The man beside him turned with a movement half savage.
+
+"Set me on a good horse," he said, "and I will show you what I can do."
+
+Babbacombe nodded, conscious for the first time of a warmth of sympathy
+for the man. Whatever his sins, he must have suffered infernally during
+the past twelve years.
+
+Twelve years! Ye gods! It was half a life-time! It represented the whole
+of his manhood to Babbacombe. Twelve years ago he had been an
+undergraduate at Cambridge.
+
+He drove on through the undulating stretches of Farringdean Park, his
+favourite heritage, trying to realise what effect twelve years in a
+convict prison would have had upon himself, what his outlook would
+ultimately have become, and what in actual fact was the outlook and
+general attitude of the man who had come through this long purgatory.
+
+Sweeping round a rise in the ground, they came into sudden sight of the
+castle. Ancient and splendid it rose before them, its battlements
+shining in the sun--a heritage of which any man might be proud.
+
+Babbacombe waited for some word of admiration from his companion. But he
+waited in vain. West was mute.
+
+"What do you think of it?" he asked at last, determined to wring some
+meed of appreciation from him, even though he stooped to ask for it.
+
+"What--the house?" said West. "It's uncommonly like a primeval sort of
+prison, to my idea. I've no doubt it boasts some very superior
+dungeons."
+
+The sting in the words reached Babbacombe, but without offence. Again,
+more strongly, he was conscious of that glow of sympathy within him,
+kindling to a flame of fellowship.
+
+"It boasts better things than that," he said quietly, "as I hope you
+will allow me to show you."
+
+He was conscious of the piercing gaze of West's eyes, and, after a
+moment, he deliberately turned his own to meet it.
+
+"And if you find--as you probably soon will--that I make but a poor sort
+of host," he said, "just remember, will you, that I like my guests to
+please themselves, and secure your own comfort?"
+
+For a second, West's grim mouth seemed to hesitate on the edge of a
+smile--a smile that never developed.
+
+"I wonder how soon you will tell me to go to the devil?" he said
+cynically.
+
+"Oh, I am a better host than that," said Babbacombe, with quiet humour.
+"If you ever prefer the devil's hospitality to mine, it won't be my
+fault."
+
+West turned from him with a slight shrug of the shoulders, as if he
+deemed himself to be dealing with a harmless lunatic, and dropped back
+into silence.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+Silence had become habitual to him, as Babbacombe soon discovered. He
+could remain silent for hours. Probably he had never been of a very
+expansive nature, and prison discipline had strengthened an inborn
+reticence to a reserve of iron. He was not a disconcerting companion,
+because he was absolutely unobtrusive, but with all the good-will in the
+world Babbacombe found it well-nigh impossible to treat him with that
+ease of manner which came to him so spontaneously in his dealings with
+other men.
+
+Grim, taciturn, cynical, West baffled his every effort to reach the
+inner man. His silence clothed him like armour, and he never really
+emerged from it save when a fiendish sense of humour tempted him. This,
+and this alone, so it seemed to Babbacombe, had any power to draw him
+out. And the instant he had flung his gibe at the object thereof, he
+would retreat again into that impenetrable shell of silence. He never
+once spoke of his past life, never once referred to the future.
+
+He merely accepted Babbacombe's hospitality in absolute silence, without
+question, without gratitude, smoked his cigarettes eternally, drank his
+wines without appreciation, rode his horses without comment.
+
+The only point in his favour that Babbacombe, the kindliest of critics,
+could discover after a fort-night's patient study, was that the animals
+loved him. He conducted himself like a gentleman, but somehow Babbacombe
+had expected this much from the moment of their meeting. He sometimes
+told himself with a wry face that if the fellow had behaved like a beast
+he would have found him easier to cultivate. At least, he would have had
+something to work upon, a creature of flesh and blood, instead of this
+inscrutable statue wrought in iron.
+
+With a sinking heart he recalled Cynthia's description of the man. To a
+certain extent it still fitted him, but he imagined that those twelve
+years had had a hardening effect upon him, making rigid that which had
+always been stubborn, driving the iron deeper and ever deeper into his
+soul, till only iron remained. Many were the nights he spent pondering
+over the romance of the woman he loved. What subtle attraction in this
+hardened sinner had lured her heart away? Was it possible that the
+fellow had ever cared for her? Had he ever possessed even the rudiments
+of a heart?
+
+The message he had read in the firelight--the brief line which this man
+had written--was the only answer he could find to these doubts. It
+seemed to point to something--some pulsing warmth--which could not have
+been kindled from nothing. And again the memory of a woman's tears would
+come upon him, spurring him to fresh effort. Surely the man for whom she
+was breaking her heart could not be wholly evil, nor yet wholly callous!
+Somewhere behind those steely blue eyes, there must dwell some answer to
+the riddle. It might be that Cynthia would find it, though he failed.
+But he shrank, with an aversion inexpressible, from letting her try, so
+deeply rooted had his conviction become that her cherished girlish fancy
+was no more than the misty gold of dreams.
+
+Yet for her sake he persevered--for the sake of those precious tears
+that had so wrung his heart he would do that which he had set out to do,
+notwithstanding the utmost discouragement. An insoluble enigma the man
+might be to him, but he would not for that turn back from the task that
+he had undertaken. West should have his chance in spite of it.
+
+They were riding together over the crisp turf of the park one frosty
+morning in November, when Babbacombe turned quietly to his companion,
+pointing to the chimneys of a house half-hidden by trees, ahead of them.
+
+"I want to go over that place," he said. "It is standing empty, and
+probably needs repairs."
+
+West received the announcement with a brief nod. He never betrayed
+interest in anything.
+
+"Shall I hold your animal?" he suggested, as they reached the gate that
+led into the little garden.
+
+"No. Come in with me, won't you? We can hitch the bridles to the post."
+
+They went in together through a rustling litter of dead leaves. The
+house was low, and thatched--a picturesque dwelling of no great size.
+
+Babbacombe led the way within, and they went from room to room, he with
+note-book in hand, jotting down the various details necessary to make
+the place into a comfortable habitation.
+
+"I daresay you can help me with this if you will," he said presently. "I
+shall turn some workmen on to it next week. Perhaps you will keep an eye
+on them for me, decide on the decorations, and so forth. It is my
+agent's house, you know."
+
+"Where is your agent?" asked West abruptly.
+
+Babbacombe smiled a little. "At the present moment--I have no agent.
+That is what keeps me so busy. I hope to have one before long."
+
+West strolled to a window and opened it, leaning his arms upon the sill.
+
+He seemed about to relapse into one of his interminable silences when
+Babbacombe, standing behind him, said quietly, "I am going to offer the
+post to you."
+
+"To me?" West wheeled suddenly, even with vehemence. "What for?" he
+demanded sharply.
+
+Babbacombe met his look, still faintly smiling. "For our mutual
+benefit," he said. "I am convinced that you have ample ability for this
+sort of work, and if you will accept the post I shall be very pleased."
+
+He stopped at that, determined for once to make the man speak on his own
+initiative. West was looking straight at him, and there was a curious
+glitter in his eyes like the sparkle of ice in the sun.
+
+When he spoke at length his speech, though curt, was not so rigorously
+emotionless as usual.
+
+"Don't you think," he said, "that you have carried this tomfoolery of
+yours far enough?"
+
+Babbacombe raised one eyebrow. "Meaning?" he questioned.
+
+West enlightened him with most unusual vigour.
+
+"Meaning that tomfoolery of this sort never pays. I know. I've done it
+myself in my time. If I were you, I should pull up and try some less
+expensive hobby than that of mending broken men. The pieces are always
+chipped and never stick, and the chances are that you'll cut your
+fingers trying to make 'em. No, sir, I won't be your agent! Find a man
+you can trust, and let me go to the devil!"
+
+The outburst was so unexpected and so forcible that at first Babbacombe
+stared at the man in amazement. Then, with that spontaneous kindness of
+heart that made him what he was, he grabbed and held his opportunity.
+
+"My dear fellow," he said, not pausing for a choice of words, "you are
+talking infernal rot, and I won't listen to you. Do you seriously
+suppose I should be such a tenfold ass as to offer the management of my
+estate to a man I couldn't trust?"
+
+"What reason have you for trusting me?" West thrust back. "Unless you
+think that a dozen years in prison have deprived me of my ancient skill.
+Would you choose a man who has been a drunkard for your butler? No! Then
+don't choose a swindler and an ex-convict for your bailiff."
+
+He swung around with the words and shut the window with a bang.
+
+But again Babbacombe took his cue from that inner prompting to which he
+had trusted all his life. For the first time he liked the man; for the
+first time, so it seemed to him, he caught a glimpse of the soul into
+which the iron had been so deeply driven.
+
+"Look here, West," he said, "I am not going to take that sort of refusal
+from you. We have been together some time now, and it isn't my fault if
+we don't know each other pretty well. I don't care a hang what you have
+been. I am only concerned with what you are, and whatever that may be,
+you are not a weak-kneed fool. You have the power to keep straight if
+you choose, and you are to choose. Understand? I make you this offer
+with a perfectly open mind, and you are to consider it in the same way.
+Would you have said because you had once had a nasty tumble that you
+would never ride again? Of course you wouldn't. You are not such a fool.
+Then don't refuse my offer on those grounds, for it's nothing less than
+contemptible."
+
+"Think so?" said West. He had listened quite impassively to the oration,
+but as Babbacombe ended, his grim mouth relaxed sardonically. "You seem
+mighty anxious to spend your money on damaged goods, Lord Babbacombe.
+It's a tom-fool investment, you know. How many of the honest folk in
+your service will stick to you when they begin to find out what you've
+given them?"
+
+"Why should they find out?" asked Babbacombe.
+
+West shrugged his shoulders. "It's a dead certainty that they will."
+
+"If I can take the risk, so can you," said Babbacombe.
+
+"Oh, of course, I used to be rather good at that game. It is called
+'sand-throwing' in the profession."
+
+Babbacombe made an impatient movement, and West's hard smile became more
+pronounced.
+
+"But you are not at all good at it," he continued. "You are almost
+obtrusively obvious. It is a charm that has its very material
+drawbacks."
+
+Babbacombe wholly lost patience at that. The man's grim irony was not to
+be borne.
+
+"Take it or leave it!" he exclaimed. "But if you leave it, in heaven's
+name let it be for some sounder reason than a faked-up excuse of moral
+weakness!"
+
+West uttered an abrupt laugh. "You seem to have a somewhat exalted
+opinion of my morals," he observed. "Well, since you are determined to
+brave the risk of being let down, I needn't quibble at it any further. I
+accept."
+
+Babbacombe's attitude changed in an instant. He held out his hand.
+
+"You won't let me down, West," he said, with confidence.
+
+West hesitated for a single instant, then took the proffered hand into a
+grip of iron. His blue eyes looked hard and straight into Babbacombe's
+face.
+
+"If I let you down," he said grimly, "I shall be underneath."
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+It was not till the middle of December that the new bailiff moved into
+his own quarters, but he had assumed his duties some weeks before that
+time, and Babbacombe was well satisfied with him. The man's business
+instincts were unusually keen. He had, moreover, a wonderful eye for
+details, and very little escaped him. It soon came home to Babbacombe
+that the management of his estate was in capable hands, and he
+congratulated himself upon having struck ore where he had least expected
+to find it. He supervised the whole of West's work for a time, but he
+soon suffered this vigilance to relax, for the man's shrewdness far
+surpassed his own. He settled to the work with a certain grim relish,
+and it was a perpetual marvel to Babbacombe that he mastered it from the
+outset with such facility.
+
+Keepers and labourers eyed him askance for awhile, but West's
+imperturbability took effect before very long. They accepted him without
+enthusiasm, but also without rancour, as a man who could hold his own.
+
+As soon as he was installed in the bailiff's house, Babbacombe left him
+to his own devices, and departed upon a round of visits. He proposed to
+entertain a house-party himself towards the end of January. He informed
+West of this before departing, and was slightly puzzled by a certain
+humourous gleam that shone in the steely eyes at the news. The matter
+went speedily from his mind. It was not till long after that he recalled
+it.
+
+West wrote to him regularly during his absence, curt, businesslike
+epistles, which always terminated on a grim note of irony: "Your
+faithful steward, N. V. West." He never varied this joke, and Babbacombe
+usually noted it with a faint frown. The fellow was not a bad sort, he
+was convinced, but he would always be more or less of an enigma to him.
+
+He returned to Farringdean in the middle of January with one of his
+married sisters, whom he had secured to act as hostess to his party. He
+invited West to dine with them informally on the night of his return.
+
+His sister, Lady Cottesbrook, a gay and garrulous lady some years his
+senior, received the new agent with considerable condescension. She
+bestowed scant attention upon him during dinner, and West presented his
+most impenetrable demeanour in consequence, refusing steadily to avail
+himself of Babbacombe's courteous efforts to draw him into the
+conversation.
+
+He would have excused himself later from accompanying his host into the
+drawing-room, but Babbacombe insisted upon this so stubbornly that
+finally, with his characteristic lift of the shoulders, he yielded.
+
+As they entered, Lady Cottesbrook raised her glasses, and favoured him
+with a close scrutiny.
+
+"It's very curious," she said, "but I can't help feeling as if I have
+seen you somewhere before. You have the look of some one I knew years
+ago--some one I didn't like--but I can't remember who."
+
+"Just as well, perhaps," said Babbacombe, with a careless laugh, though
+a faint flush of annoyance rose in his face. "Come over here, West. You
+can smoke. My sister likes it."
+
+He seated himself at the piano, indicated a chair near him to his guest,
+and began to play.
+
+West, with his back to the light, sat motionless, listening. Lady
+Cottesbrook took up a book, and ignored him. There was something
+unfathomable about her brother's bailiff to which she strongly objected.
+
+An hour later, when he had gone, she spoke of it.
+
+"That man has the eyes of a criminal, Jack. I am sure he isn't
+trustworthy. He is too brazen. Where in the world did you pick him up?"
+
+To which Babbacombe made composed reply:
+
+"I know all about him, and he is absolutely trustworthy. He was
+recommended to me by a friend. I am sorry you thought it necessary to be
+rude to him. There is nothing offensive about him that I can see."
+
+"My dear boy, you see nothing offensive in a great many people whom I
+positively detest. However, he isn't worth an argument. Only, if you
+must ask the man to dine, for goodness' sake another time have some one
+else for me to talk to. I frankly admit that I have no talent for
+entertaining people of that class. Now tell me the latest about Cynthia
+Mortimer. Of course, she is one of the chosen guests?"
+
+"She has promised to spend a week here," Babbacombe answered somewhat
+reluctantly. "I haven't seen her lately. She has been in Paris."
+
+"What has she been doing there? Buying her trousseau?"
+
+"I really don't know." There was a faint inflection of irritation in his
+voice.
+
+"Doesn't her consenting to come here mean that she will accept you?"
+questioned Lady Cottesbrook. She never hesitated to ask in plainest
+terms for anything she wanted.
+
+"No," Babbacombe said heavily. "It does not."
+
+Lady Cottesbrook was silenced. After a little she turned her attention
+to other matters, to her brother's evident relief.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+It was on a still, frosty evening of many stars that Cynthia came to
+Farringdean Castle. A young moon was low in the sky, and she paused to
+curtsey to it upon descending from the motor that had borne her thither.
+
+She turned to find Babbacombe beside her.
+
+"I hope it will bring you luck, Cynthia," he said.
+
+She flashed a swift look at him, and gave him both her hands.
+
+"Thank you, old friend," she said softly.
+
+Her eyes were shining like the stars above them. She laughed a little
+tremulously.
+
+"I couldn't get to the station to meet you," he said. "I wanted to. Come
+inside. There is no one here whom you don't know."
+
+"Thank you again," she said.
+
+In another moment they were entering the great hall. Before an immense
+open fireplace a group of people were gathered at tea. There was a
+general buzz of greeting as Cynthia entered. She was always popular,
+wherever she went.
+
+She scattered her own greetings broadcast, passing from one to another,
+greeting each in her high, sweet drawl--a gracious, impulsive woman whom
+to know was to love.
+
+Babbacombe watched her with a dumb longing. How often he had pictured
+her as hostess where now she moved as guest! Well, that dream of his was
+shattered, but the glowing fragments yet burned in his secret heart. All
+his life long he would remember her as he saw her that night on his own
+hearth. Her loveliness was like a flower wide open to the sun. He
+thought her lovelier that night than she had ever been before. When she
+flitted away at length, he felt as if she took the warmth and brightness
+of the fireside with her.
+
+There was no agreement between them, but he knew that she would be down
+early, and hastened his own dressing in consequence. He found her
+waiting alone in the drawing-room before a regal fire. She wore a
+splendid star of diamonds in her dark hair. It sparkled in a thousand
+colours as she turned. Her dress was black, unrelieved by any ornament.
+
+"Cynthia," he said, "you are exquisite!"
+
+The words burst from him almost involuntarily. She put out her hand to
+him with a gesture half of acknowledgment, half of protest.
+
+"I may be good to look at," she said, with a little whimsical smile.
+"But--I tell you, Jack--I feel a perfect reptile. It's heads I win,
+tails you lose; and--I just can't bear it."
+
+There was a catch in the high voice that was almost a sob. Babbacombe
+took her hand and held it.
+
+"My dear," he said, "it's nothing of the sort. You have done me the very
+great honour of giving me your full confidence, and I won't have you
+abusing yourself for it."
+
+She shook her head. "I hate myself--there! And--and I'm frightened too.
+Jack, if you want me to marry you--you had better ask me now. I won't
+refuse you."
+
+He looked her closely in the eyes. "No, Cynthia," he said very gravely.
+
+"I am not laughing," she protested.
+
+He smiled a little. "It would be easier for me if you were," he said.
+"No, we will go through with this since we have begun. And you needn't
+be scared. He is hardly a ladies' man, according to my judgment, but he
+is not a bounder. I haven't asked him to meet you to-night. I thought it
+better not. In fact, I----"
+
+He broke off at the sound of a step behind him. With a start Cynthia
+turned.
+
+A short, thick-set man in riding-dress was walking up the room.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said formally, halting a few paces from
+Babbacombe. "I have been waiting for you in the library for the last
+hour. I sent you a message, but I conclude it was not delivered. Can I
+speak to you for a few seconds on a matter of business?"
+
+He spoke with his eyes fixed steadily upon Babbacombe's face, ignoring
+the woman's presence as if he had not even seen her.
+
+Babbacombe was momentarily disconcerted. He glanced at Cynthia before
+replying; and instantly, in her quick, gracious way, she came forward
+with extended hand.
+
+"Why, Mr. West," she said, "don't you know me? I'm Cynthia Mortimer--a
+very old friend of yours. And I'm very glad to meet you again."
+
+There was a quiver as of laughter in her words. The confidence of her
+action compelled some species of response. West took the outstretched
+hand for a single instant; but his eyes, meeting hers, held no
+recognition.
+
+"I am afraid," he said stonily, "that your memory is better than mine."
+
+It was a check that would have disheartened many women; not so Cynthia
+Mortimer.
+
+She opened her eyes wide for a second, the next quite openly she laughed
+at him.
+
+"You are not a bit cleverer than you used to be," she said. "But I
+rather like you for it all the same. Come, Mr. West, I'm sure you will
+make an effort when I tell you that I want to be remembered. You once
+did a big thing for me which I have never forgotten--which I never shall
+forget."
+
+West was frowning. "You have made a mistake," he said briefly.
+
+She laughed again, softly, audaciously. There was a delicate flush on
+her face, and her eyes were very bright.
+
+"No, Mr. Nat Verney West," she said, sinking her voice. "I'm a lot
+cleverer than you think, and I don't make mistakes of that sort."
+
+He shrugged his shoulders, and was silent. She was laughing still.
+
+"Why can't we begin where we left off?" she asked ingenuously. "Back
+numbers are so dull, and we were long past this stage anyway. Lord
+Babbacombe," appealing suddenly to her host, "can't you persuade Mr.
+West to come to the third act? I always prefer to skip the second. And
+we finished the first long ago."
+
+Babbacombe came to her assistance with his courteous smile. "Miss
+Mortimer considers herself in your debt, Mr. West," he said. "I think
+you will hurt her feelings if you try to repudiate her obligation."
+
+"Yes, of course," laughed Cynthia. "It was a mighty big debt, and I have
+been wondering ever since how to get even with you. Oh, you needn't
+scowl. That doesn't hurt me at all. Do you know you haven't altered a
+mite, you funny English bulldog? Come, you know me now?"
+
+"Yes, I know you," West said. "But I think it is a pity that you have
+renewed your acquaintance with me, and the sooner you drop me again the
+better." He spoke briefly and very decidedly, and having thus expressed
+himself he turned to Babbacombe. "I am going to the library. Perhaps you
+will join me there at your convenience."
+
+With an abrupt bow to Cynthia, he turned to go. But instantly the high
+voice arrested him.
+
+"Mr. West!"
+
+He paused.
+
+"Mr. West!" she said again, her voice half-imperious, half-pleading.
+
+Reluctantly he faced round. She was waiting for him with a little smile
+quivering about her mouth. Her grey eyes met his with perfect composure.
+
+"I want to know," she said, in her softest drawl, "if it is for my sake
+or your own that you regret this renewal of acquaintance."
+
+"For yours, Miss Mortimer," he answered grimly.
+
+"That's very kind of you," she rejoined. "And why?"
+
+Again he gave that slight lift of the shoulders that she remembered so
+well.
+
+"You know the proverb about touching pitch?"
+
+"Some people like pitch," said Cynthia.
+
+"Not clean people," threw back West.
+
+"No?" she said. "Well, perhaps not. Anyway, it doesn't apply in this
+case. So I sha'n't drop you, Mr. West, thank you all the same!
+Good-night!"
+
+She offered him her hand with a gesture that was nothing short of regal.
+And he--because he could do no less--took it, gripped it, and went his
+way.
+
+"Isn't he rude?" murmured Cynthia; and she said it as if rudeness were
+the highest virtue a man could display.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+The early winter dusk was falling upon a world veiled in cold, drifting
+rain. Away in the distance where the castle stood, many lights had begun
+to glimmer. It was the cosy hour when sportsmen collect about the
+fireside with noisy talk of the day's achievements.
+
+The man who strode down the long, dark avenue towards the bailiff's
+house smiled bitterly to himself as he marked the growing illumination.
+It was four days since Cynthia Mortimer had extended to him the hand of
+friendship, and he had not seen her since. He was, in fact, studiously
+avoiding her, more studiously than he had ever avoided any one in his
+life before. His daily visits to the castle he now paid early in the
+morning, before Babbacombe himself was dressed, long before any of the
+guests were stirring. And his refusal either to dine at the castle or to
+join the sportsmen during the day was so prompt and so emphatic that
+Babbacombe had refrained from pressing his invitation.
+
+Not a word had passed between them upon the subject of Cynthia's
+recognition. West adhered strictly to business during his brief
+interviews with his chief. The smallest digression on Babbacombe's part
+he invariably ignored as unworthy of his attention, till even
+Babbacombe, with all his courtly consideration for others, began to
+regard him as a mere automaton, and almost to treat him as such.
+
+Had he realised in the faintest degree what West was enduring at that
+time, his heart must have warmed to the man, despite his repellent
+exterior. But he had no means of realising.
+
+The rust of twelve bitter years had corroded the bolts of that closed
+door behind which the swindler hid his lonely soul, and it was not in
+the power of any man to move them.
+
+So grimly he went his silent way, cynical, as only those can be to whom
+the best thing in life has been offered too late; proud, also, after his
+curious, iron-clad fashion, refusing sternly to bear a lance again in
+that field which had witnessed his dishonour.
+
+He knew very well what those twinkling lights denoted. He could almost
+hear the clatter round the tea-table, the witless jests of the
+youngsters, the careless laughter of the women, the trivial, merry
+nonsense that was weaving another hour of happiness into the golden
+skein of happy hours. Contemptible, of course! Vanity of vanities! But
+how infinitely precious is even such vanity as this to those who stand
+outside!
+
+The rain was beginning to patter through the trees. It would be a wet
+night. With his collar turned up to his ears, he trudged forward. He
+cared little for the rain. For twelve long years he had lived an outdoor
+life.
+
+There were no lights visible in his own abode. The old woman who kept
+his house was doubtless gossiping with some crony up at the castle.
+
+With his hand on the garden gate, he looked back at its distant, shining
+front. Then, with a shrug, as if impatient with himself for lingering,
+he turned to walk up the short, flagged pathway that led to his own
+door.
+
+At the same instant a cry of pain--a woman's cry--came sharply through
+the dripping stillness of the trees. He turned back swiftly, banging the
+gate behind him.
+
+A long slope rose, tree-covered, from the other side of the road. He
+judged the sound to have come from that direction, and he hurried
+towards it with swinging strides. Reaching the deep shadow, he paused,
+peering upwards.
+
+At once a voice he knew called to him, but in such accents of agony that
+he hardly recognised it.
+
+"Oh, come and help me! I'm here--caught in a trap! I can't move!"
+
+In a moment he was crashing through the undergrowth with the furious
+recklessness of a wild animal.
+
+"I am coming! Keep still!" he shouted as he went.
+
+He found her crouched in a tiny hollow close to a narrow footpath that
+ran through the wood. She was on her knees, but she turned a deathly
+face up to him as he reached her. She was sobbing like a child.
+
+"They are great iron teeth," she gasped, "fastened in my hand. Can you
+open them?"
+
+"Don't move!" he ordered, as he dropped down beside her.
+
+It was a poacher's trap, fortunately of a species with which he was
+acquainted. Her hand was fairly gripped between the iron jaws. He
+wondered with a set face if those cruel teeth had met in her delicate
+flesh.
+
+She screamed as he forced it open, and fell back shuddering,
+half-fainting, while he lifted her torn hand and examined it in the
+failing light.
+
+It was bleeding freely, but not violently, and he saw with relief that
+the larger veins had escaped. He wrapped his handkerchief round it, and
+spoke:
+
+"Come!" he said. "My house is close by. It had better be bathed at
+once."
+
+"Yes," she assented shakily.
+
+"Don't cry!" he said, with blunt kindliness.
+
+"I can't help it," whispered Cynthia.
+
+He helped her to her feet, but she trembled so much that he put his arm
+about her.
+
+"It's only a stone's throw away," he said.
+
+She went with him without question. She seemed dazed with pain.
+
+Silently he led her down to his dark abode.
+
+"I'm giving you a lot of trouble," she murmured, as they entered.
+
+To which he made gruff reply:
+
+"It's worse for you than for me!"
+
+He put her into an easy chair, lighted a lamp, and departed for a basin
+of water.
+
+When he returned, she had so far mastered herself as to be able to smile
+at him through her tears.
+
+"I know I'm a drivelling idiot to cry!" she said, her voice high and
+tremulous. "But I never felt so sick before!"
+
+"Don't apologise," said West briefly. "I know."
+
+He bathed the injury with the utmost tenderness, while she sat and
+watched his stern face.
+
+"My!" she said suddenly, with a little, shaky laugh. "You are being very
+good to me, but why do you frown like that?"
+
+He glanced at her with those piercing eyes of his.
+
+"How did you do it?"
+
+The colour came into her white face.
+
+"I--was trying to spring the trap," she said, eyeing him doubtfully. "I
+didn't like to think of one of those cute little rabbits getting
+caught."
+
+"Yes, but how did you manage to get your hand in the way?" said West.
+
+She considered this problem for a little.
+
+"I guess I can't explain that mystery to you," she said, at length. "You
+see, I'm only a woman, and women often do things that are very foolish."
+
+West's silence seemed to express tacit agreement with this assertion.
+
+"Anyway," she resumed, making a wry face, "it's done. You are not vexed
+because I made such a fuss?"
+
+There was an odd wistfulness in her tone. West, busy bandaging, did not
+raise his eyes.
+
+"I don't blame you for that," he said. "It must have hurt you
+infernally! If you take my advice, you will show it to a doctor."
+
+She screwed her face up a second time.
+
+"To please you, Mr. West?"
+
+"No," he responded curtly. "As a sensible precaution."
+
+"And if I don't happen to be remarkable for sense?" she suggested.
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Yes, I know," said Cynthia. "You say that to everything. It's getting
+rather monotonous. And I'm sure I'm very patient. You'll grant me that,
+at least?"
+
+He turned his ice-blue eyes upon her.
+
+"I am not good at paying compliments, Miss Mortimer," he said cynically.
+"Twelve years in prison have rusted all my little accomplishments."
+
+She met his look with a smile, though her lips were quivering still.
+
+"My! What a pity!" she said. "Has your heart got rusty, too?"
+
+"Very," said West shortly.
+
+"Can't you rub it off?" she questioned.
+
+He uttered his ironic laugh.
+
+"There wouldn't be anything left if I did."
+
+"No?" she said whimsically. "Well, give it to me, and let me see what I
+can do!"
+
+His eyes fell away from her, and the grim line of his jaw hardened
+perceptibly.
+
+"That would be too hard a job even for you!" he said.
+
+She rose and put out her free hand to him. Her eyes were very soft and
+womanly. A quaint little smile yet hovered about her lips.
+
+"I guess I'll have a try," she said gently.
+
+He did not touch her hand, nor would he again meet her eyes.
+
+"A hopeless task, I am afraid," he said. "And utterly unprofitable to
+all concerned. I am not a deserving object for your charity."
+
+She laughed a trifle breathlessly.
+
+"Say, Mr. West, couldn't you put that into words of one syllable? You
+try, and perhaps then I'll listen to you, and give you my views as
+well."
+
+But West remained rigorously unresponsive. It was as if he were thinking
+of other things.
+
+Cynthia uttered a little sigh and turned to go.
+
+"Good-bye, Mr. West!" she said.
+
+He went with her to the door.
+
+"Shall I walk back with you?" he asked formally.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No. I'm better now, and it's quite light still beyond the trees.
+Good-bye, and--thank you!"
+
+"Good-bye!" he said.
+
+He followed her to the gate, opened it for her, and stood there watching
+till he saw her emerge from the shadow cast by the overarching trees.
+Then--for he knew that the rest of the journey was no more than a few
+minutes' easy walk--he turned back into the house, and shut himself in.
+
+Entering the room he had just quitted, he locked the door, and there he
+remained for a long, long time.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+It was not till she descended to dinner that Cynthia's injured hand was
+noticed.
+
+She resolutely made light of it to all sympathisers but it was plain to
+Babbacombe, at least, that it gave her considerable pain.
+
+"Let me send for a doctor," he whispered, as she finally passed his
+chair.
+
+But she shook her head with a smile.
+
+"No, no. It will be all right in the morning."
+
+But when he saw her in the morning, he knew at once that this prophecy
+had not been fulfilled. She met his anxious scrutiny with a smile
+indeed, but her heavy eyes belied it. He knew that she had spent a
+sleepless night.
+
+"It wasn't my hand that kept me awake," she protested, when he charged
+her with this.
+
+But Babbacombe was dissatisfied.
+
+"Do see a doctor. I am sure it ought to be properly dressed," he urged.
+"I'll take you myself in the motor, if you will."
+
+She yielded at length to his persuasion, though plainly against her
+will, and an hour later they drove off together, leaving the rest of the
+party to follow the hounds.
+
+At the park gate they overtook West, walking swiftly. He raised his hat
+as they went by, but did not so much as look at Cynthia.
+
+A sudden silence fell upon her, and it was not till some minutes had
+passed that she broke it.
+
+"Shall I tell you what kept me awake last night, Jack?" she said then.
+"I think you have a right to know."
+
+He glanced at her, encountering one of those smiles, half-sad,
+half-humorous, that he knew so well. "You will do exactly as you
+please," he said.
+
+"You're generous," she responded. "Well, I'll tell you. I was busy
+burying my poor foolish little romance."
+
+A deep glow showed suddenly upon Babbacombe's face. He was driving
+slowly, but he kept his eyes fixed steadily upon the stretch of muddy
+road ahead.
+
+"Is it dead, then?" he asked, his voice very low.
+
+She made a quaint gesture as of putting something from her.
+
+"Yes, quite; and buried decently without any fuss. The blinds are up
+again, and I don't want any condolences. I'm going out into the sun,
+Jack. I'm going to live."
+
+"And what about me?" said Babbacombe.
+
+She turned in her quick way, and laid her hand upon his knee.
+
+"Yes, I've been thinking about you. I am going back to London to-morrow,
+and the first thing I shall do will be to find you a really good wife."
+
+"Thank you," he said, smiling a little. "But you needn't go to London
+for that."
+
+"Oh, shucks!" said Cynthia, colouring deeply. "There's more than one
+woman in the world, Jack."
+
+"Not for me," he said quietly.
+
+She was silent for a space. Then:
+
+"And if that one woman is such a sublime fool, such an ungrateful little
+beast, as not to be able to--to love you as you deserve to be loved?"
+she suggested, a slight break in her voice.
+
+He turned his head at that, and looked for an instant straight into her
+eyes.
+
+"She is still the one woman, dear," he said, very tenderly. "Always
+remember that."
+
+She shook her head in protest. Her lips were quivering too much for
+speech.
+
+Babbacombe drove slowly on in silence.
+
+At last the hand upon his knee pressed slightly.
+
+"You can have her if you like, Jack," Cynthia murmured. "She's going
+mighty cheap."
+
+He freed his hand for a moment to grasp hers.
+
+"I shall follow her to London," he said, "and woo her there."
+
+She smiled at him gratefully and began to speak of other things.
+
+The doctor was out, to her evident relief. Babbacombe wanted to go in
+search of another, but she would not be persuaded.
+
+"I'm sure it will be all right to-morrow. If not, I shall be in town,
+and I can go to a doctor there. Please don't make a fuss about it. It's
+too absurd."
+
+Reluctantly he abandoned the argument, and they followed the hounds in
+the motor instead.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+Babbacombe's guests departed upon the following day. Cynthia was among
+the first to leave. With a flushed face and sparkling eyes she made her
+farewells, and even Babbacombe, closely as he observed her, detected no
+hint of strain in her demeanour.
+
+Returning from the station in the afternoon after speeding some of his
+guests, he dropped into the local bank to change a cheque. The manager,
+with whom he was intimate, chanced to be present, and led him off to his
+own room.
+
+"By the way," he said, "we were just going to send you notice of an
+overdraft. That last big cheque of yours has left you a deficit."
+
+Babbacombe stared at him. He had barely a fortnight before deposited a
+large sum of money at the bank, and he had not written any large cheque
+since.
+
+"I don't understand," he said. "What cheque?"
+
+The manager looked at him sharply.
+
+"Why, the cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds, which your agent
+presented yesterday," he said. "It bore your signature and was dated the
+previous day. You wrote it, I suppose?"
+
+Babbacombe was still staring blankly, but at the sudden question he
+pulled himself together.
+
+"Oh, that! Yes, to be sure. Careless of me. I gave him a blank cheque
+for the Millsand estate expenses some weeks ago. It must have been
+that."
+
+But though he spoke with a smiling face, his heart had gone suddenly
+cold with doubt. He knew full well that the expenses of which he spoke
+had been paid by West long before.
+
+He refused to linger, and went out again after a few commonplaces,
+feeling as if he had been struck a stunning blow between the eyes.
+
+Driving swiftly back through the park, he recovered somewhat from the
+shock. There must be--surely there would be!--some explanation.
+
+Reaching West's abode he stopped the motor and descended. West was not
+in and he decided to wait for him, chafing at the delay.
+
+Standing at the window, he presently saw the man coming up the path. He
+moved slowly, with a certain heaviness, as though weary.
+
+As he opened the outer door, Babbacombe opened the inner and met him in
+the hall.
+
+"I dropped in to have a word with you," he said.
+
+West paused momentarily before shutting the door. His face was in
+shadow.
+
+"I thought so," he said. "I saw the motor."
+
+Babbacombe turned back into the room. He was grappling with the hardest
+task he had ever had to tackle. West followed him in absolute silence.
+
+With an immense effort, Babbacombe spoke:
+
+"I was at the bank just now. I went to get some cash. I was told that my
+account was overdrawn. I can't understand it. There seems to have been
+some mistake."
+
+He paused, but West said nothing whatever. The light was beginning to
+fail, but his expressionless face was clearly visible. It held neither
+curiosity nor dismay.
+
+"I was told," Babbacombe said again, "that you cashed a cheque of mine
+yesterday for two hundred and fifty pounds. Is that so?"
+
+"It is," said West curtly.
+
+"And yet," Babbacombe proceeded, "I understood from you that the
+Millsand estate business was settled long ago."
+
+"It was," said West.
+
+"Then this cheque--this cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds--where
+did it come from, West?" There was a note of entreaty in Babbacombe's
+voice.
+
+West jerked up his head at the sound. It was a gesture openly
+contemptuous. "Can't you guess?" he said.
+
+Babbacombe stiffened at the callous question. "You refuse to answer me?"
+he asked.
+
+"That is my answer," said West.
+
+"I am to understand then that you have robbed me--that you have forged
+my signature to do so--that you--great heavens, man"--Babbacombe's
+amazement burst forth irresistibly--"it's incredible! Are you mad, I
+wonder? You can't have done it in your sober senses. You would never
+have been so outrageously clumsy."
+
+West shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I am quite sane--only a little out of practice."
+
+His words were like a shower of icy water. Babbacombe contracted
+instantly.
+
+"You wish me to believe that you did this thing in cold blood--that you
+deliberately meant to do it?"
+
+"Certainly I meant to do it," said West.
+
+"Why?" said Babbacombe.
+
+Again he gave the non-committal shrug, no more. There was almost a
+fiendish look in his eyes, as if somewhere in his soul a demon leaped
+and jeered.
+
+"Tell me why," Babbacombe persisted.
+
+"Why should I tell you?" said West.
+
+Babbacombe hesitated for an instant; then gravely, kindly, he made
+reply:
+
+"For the sake of the friendship that has been between us. I had not the
+faintest idea that you were in need of money. Why couldn't you tell me?"
+
+West made a restless movement. For the first time his hard stare shifted
+from Babbacombe's face.
+
+"Why go into these details?" he questioned harshly. "I warned you at the
+outset what to expect. I am a swindler to the backbone. The sooner you
+bundle me back to where I came from, the better. I sha'n't run away this
+time."
+
+"I shall not prosecute," Babbacombe said.
+
+"You will not!" West blazed into sudden ferocity. He had the look of a
+wild animal at bay. "You are to prosecute!" he exclaimed violently. "Do
+you hear? I won't have any more of your damned charity! I'll go down
+into my own limbo and stay there, without let or hindrance from you or
+any other man. If you are fool enough to offer me another chance, as you
+call it, I am not fool enough to take it. The only thing I'll take from
+you is justice. Understand?"
+
+"You wish me to prosecute?" Babbacombe said.
+
+"I do!"
+
+The words came with passionate force. West stood in almost a threatening
+attitude. His eyes shone in the gathering dusk like the eyes of a
+crouching beast--a beast that has been sorely wounded, but that will
+fight to the last.
+
+The man's whole demeanour puzzled Babbacombe--his total lack of shame or
+penitence, his savagery of resentment. There was something behind it
+all--something he could not fathom, that baffled him, however he sought
+to approach it. In days gone by he had wondered if the fellow had a
+heart. That wonder was still in his mind. He himself had utterly failed
+to reach it if it existed. And Cynthia--even Cynthia--had failed. Yet,
+somehow, vaguely, he had a feeling that neither he nor Cynthia had
+understood.
+
+"I don't know what to say to you, West," he said at length.
+
+"Why say anything?" said West.
+
+"Because," Babbacombe said slowly, "I don't believe--I can't
+believe--that simply for the sake of a paltry sum like that you would
+have risked so much. You could have swindled me in a thousand ways
+before now, and done it easily, too, with small chance of being found
+out. But this--this was bound to be discovered sooner or later. You must
+have known that. Then why, why in heaven's name did you do it? Apart
+from every other consideration, it was so infernally foolish. It wasn't
+like you to do a thing like that." He paused, then suddenly clapped an
+urgent hand upon the swindler's shoulder. "West," he said, "I'll swear
+that you never played this game with me for your own advantage. Tell the
+truth, man! Be honest with me in heaven's name! Give me the chance of
+judging you fairly! It isn't much to ask."
+
+West drew back sharply.
+
+"Why should I be honest with you?" he demanded. "You have never been
+honest with me from the very outset. I owe you nothing in that line, at
+all events."
+
+He spoke passionately still, yet not wholly without restraint. He was as
+a man fighting desperate odds, and guarding some precious possession
+while he fought. But these words of his were something of a revelation
+to Babbacombe. He changed his ground to pursue it.
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"You know very well!" West flung the words from between set teeth, and
+with them he abruptly turned his back upon Babbacombe, lodging his arms
+upon the mantelpiece. "I am not going into details on that point or any
+other. But the fact is there, and you know it. You have never been
+absolutely straight in your dealings with me. I knew you weren't. I
+always knew it. But how crooked you were I did not know till lately. If
+you had been any other man, I believe I should have given you a broken
+head for your pains. But you are so damnably courteous, as well as such
+an unutterable fool!" He broke off with a hard laugh and a savage kick
+at the coals in front of him. "I couldn't see myself doing it," he said,
+"humbug as you are."
+
+"And so you took this method of making me suffer?" Babbacombe suggested,
+his voice very quiet and even.
+
+"You may say so if it satisfies you," said West, without turning.
+
+"It does not satisfy me!" There was a note of sternness in the steady
+rejoinder. "It satisfies me so little that I insist upon an explanation.
+Turn round and tell me what you mean."
+
+But West stood motionless and silent, as though hewn in granite.
+
+Babbacombe waited with that in his face which very few had ever seen
+there. At last, as West remained stubborn, he spoke again:
+
+"I suppose you have found out my original reason for giving you a fresh
+start in life, and you resent my having kept it a secret."
+
+"I resent the reason." West tossed the words over his shoulder as though
+he uttered them against his will.
+
+"Are you sure even now that you know what that reason was?" Babbacombe
+asked.
+
+"I am sure of one thing!" West spoke quickly, vehemently, as a man
+shaken by some inner storm. "Had I been in your place--had the woman I
+wanted to marry asked me to bring back into her life some worthless
+scamp to whom she had taken a sentimental fancy when she was scarcely
+out of the schoolroom, I'd have seen him damned first, and myself
+too--had I been in your place. I would have refused pointblank, even if
+it had meant the end of everything."
+
+"I believe you would," Babbacombe said. The sternness had gone out of
+his voice, and a certain weariness had taken its place. "But you haven't
+quite hit the truth of the matter. Since you have guessed so much you
+had better know the whole. I did not do this thing by request. I
+undertook it voluntarily. If I had not done so, some other
+means--possibly some less discreet means--would have been employed to
+gain the same end."
+
+"I see!" West's head was bent. He seemed to be closely examining the
+marble on which his arms rested. "Well," he said abruptly, "you've told
+me the truth. I will do the same to you. This business has got to end. I
+have done my part towards bringing that about. And now you must do
+yours. You will have to prosecute, whether you like it or not. It is the
+only way."
+
+"What?" Babbacombe said sharply.
+
+West turned at last. The glare had gone out of his eyes--they were cold
+and still as an Arctic sky.
+
+"I think we understand one another," he said. "I see you don't like your
+job. But you'll stick to it, for all that. There must be an end--a
+painless end if possible, without regrets. She has got to realise that
+I'm a swindler to the marrow of my bones, that I couldn't turn to and
+lead a decent, honourable life--even for love of her."
+
+The words fell grimly, but there was no mockery in the steely eyes, no
+feeling of any sort. They looked full at Babbacombe with unflickering
+steadiness, that was all.
+
+Babbacombe listened in the silence of a great amazement. Vaguely he had
+groped after the truth, but he had never even dimly imagined this. It
+struck him dumb--this sudden glimpse of a man's heart which till that
+moment had been so strenuously hidden from him.
+
+"My dear fellow," he said at last; "but this is insanity!"
+
+"Perhaps," West returned, unmoved. "They say every man has his mania.
+This is mine, and it is a very harmless one. It won't hurt you to humour
+it."
+
+"But--good heavens!--have you thought of her?" Babbacombe exclaimed.
+
+"I am thinking of her only," West answered quietly. "And I am asking you
+to do the same, both now and after you have married her."
+
+"And send you to perdition to secure her peace of mind? A thousand
+times--no!" Babbacombe turned, and began to pace the room as though his
+feelings were too much for him. But very soon he stopped in front of
+West, and spoke with grave resolution. "Look here," he said, "I think
+you know that her happiness is more to me than anything else in the
+world, except my honour. To you it seems to be even more than that. And
+now listen, for as man to man I tell you the truth. You hold her
+happiness in the hollow of your hand!"
+
+West's face remained as a mask; his eyes never varied.
+
+"You can change all that," he said.
+
+Babbacombe shook his head.
+
+"I am not even sure that I shall try."
+
+"What then?" said West. "Are you suggesting that the woman you love
+should marry an ex-convict--a notorious swindler, a blackguard?"
+
+"I think," Babbacombe answered firmly, "that she ought to be allowed to
+decide that point."
+
+"Allowed to ruin herself without interference," substituted West,
+sneering faintly. "Well, I don't agree with you, and I shall never give
+her the opportunity. You won't move me from that if you argue till
+Doomsday. So, in heaven's name, take what the gods offer, and leave me
+alone. Marry her. Give her all a good woman ever wants--a happy home, a
+husband who worships her, and children for her to worship, and you will
+soon find that I have dropped below the horizon."
+
+He swung round again to the fire, and drove the poker hard into the
+coals.
+
+"And find another agent as soon as possible," he said; "a respectable
+one this time, one who won't let you down when you are not looking, who
+won't call you a fool when you make mistakes--in short, a gentleman.
+There are plenty of them about. But they are not to be found in the
+world's rubbish heap. There's nothing but filth and broken crockery
+there."
+
+He ended with his brief, cynical laugh, and Babbacombe knew that further
+discussion would be vain. For good or ill the swindler had made his
+decision, and he realised that no effort of his would alter it. To
+attempt to do so would be to beat against a stone wall--a struggle in
+which he might possibly hurt himself, but which would make no difference
+whatever to the wall.
+
+Reluctantly he abandoned the argument, and prepared to take his
+departure.
+
+But later, as he drove home, the man's words recurred to him and dwelt
+long in his memory. Their bitterness seemed to cloak something upon
+which no eye had ever looked--a regret unspeakable, a passionate
+repentance that found no place.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+"I have just discovered of whom it is that your very unpleasant agent
+reminds me," observed Lady Cottesbrook at the breakfast-table on the
+following morning. "It flashed upon me suddenly. He is the very image of
+that nasty person, Nat Verney, who swindled such a crowd of people a few
+years ago. I was present at part of his trial, and a more callous,
+thoroughly insolent creature I never saw. I suppose he is still in
+prison. I forget exactly what the sentence was, but I know it was a long
+one. I should think this man must be his twin-brother, Jack. I never saw
+a more remarkable likeness."
+
+Babbacombe barely glanced up from his letter. "You are always finding
+that the people you don't like resemble criminals, Ursula," he said,
+with something less than his usual courtesy. "Did you say you were
+leaving by the eleven-fifty? I think I shall come with you."
+
+"My dear Jack, how you change! I thought you were going to stay down
+here for another week."
+
+"I was," he answered. "But I have had a line from Cynthia to tell me
+that her hand is poisoned from that infernal trap. It may be very
+serious. It probably is, or she would not have written."
+
+That note of Cynthia's had in fact roused his deepest anxiety. He had
+fancied all along that she had deliberately made light of the injury.
+Soon after three o'clock he was in town, and he hastened forthwith to
+Cynthia's flat in Mayfair.
+
+He found her on a couch in her dainty boudoir, lying alone before the
+fire. Her eyes shone like stars in her white face as she greeted him.
+
+"It was just dear of you to come so soon," she said. "I kind of thought
+you would. I'm having a really bad time for once, and I thought you'd
+like to know."
+
+"Tell me about it," he said, sitting down beside her.
+
+Her left hand lay in his for a few moments, but after a little she
+softly drew it away. Her right was in a sling.
+
+"There's hardly anything to tell," she said. "Only my arm is bad right
+up to the shoulder, and the doctor is putting things on the wound so
+that it sha'n't leave off hurting night or day. I dreamt I was Dante
+last night. But no, I won't tell you about that. It was too horrible.
+I've never been really sick before, Jack. It frightens me some. I sent
+for you because I felt I wanted--a friend to talk to. It was
+outrageously selfish of me."
+
+"It was the kindest thing you could do," Babbacombe said.
+
+"Ah, but you mustn't misunderstand." A note of wistfulness sounded in
+the high voice. "You won't misunderstand, will you, Jack? I only want--a
+friend."
+
+"You needn't be afraid, Cynthia," he said. "I shall never attempt to be
+anything else to you without your free consent."
+
+"Thank you," she murmured. "I know I'm very mean. But I had such a bad
+night. I thought that all the devils in hell were jeering at me because
+I had told you my romance was dead. Oh, Jack! it was a great big lie,
+and it's come home to roost. I can't get rid of it. It won't die."
+
+He heard the quiver of tears in her confession, and set his teeth.
+
+"My dear," he said, "don't fret about that. I knew it at the bottom of
+my heart."
+
+She reached out her hand to him again. "I hate myself for treating you
+like this," she whispered. "But I--I'm lonely, and I can't help it.
+You--you shouldn't be so kind."
+
+"Ah, child, don't grudge me your friendship," he said. "It is the
+dearest thing I have."
+
+"It's so hard," wailed Cynthia, "that I can give you so little, when I
+would so gladly give all if I could."
+
+"You are not to blame yourself for that," he answered steadily. "You
+loved each other before I ever met you."
+
+"Loved each other!" she said. "Do you really mean that, Jack?"
+
+He hesitated. He had not intended to say so much.
+
+"Jack," she urged piteously, "then you think he really cares?"
+
+"Don't you know it, Cynthia?" he asked, in a low voice.
+
+"My heart knows it," she said brokenly. "But my mind isn't sure. Do you
+know, Jack, I almost proposed to him because I felt so sure he cared.
+And he--he just looked beyond me, as if--as if he didn't even hear."
+
+"He thinks he isn't good enough for you," Babbacombe said, with an
+effort. "I don't think he will ever be persuaded to act otherwise. He
+seems to consider himself hopelessly handicapped."
+
+"What makes you say that?" whispered Cynthia.
+
+He had not meant to tell her. It was against his will that he did so;
+but he felt impelled to do it. For her peace of mind it seemed
+imperative that she should understand.
+
+And so, in a few words, he told her of West's abortive attempt to plunge
+a second time into the black depths from which he had so recently
+escaped, of the man's absolutely selfless devotion, of his rigid refusal
+to suffer even her love for him to move him from this attitude.
+
+Cynthia listened with her bright eyes fixed unswervingly upon
+Babbacombe's face. She made no comment of any sort when he ended. She
+only pressed his hand.
+
+He remained with her for some time, and when he got up to go at length,
+it was with manifest reluctance. He lingered beside her after he had
+spoken his farewell, as though he still had something to say.
+
+"You will come again soon," said Cynthia.
+
+"To-morrow," he answered. "And--Cynthia, there is just one thing I want
+to say."
+
+She looked up at him questioningly.
+
+"Only this," he said. "You sent for me because you wanted a friend. I
+want you from now onward to treat me and to think of me in that light
+only. As I now see things, I do not think I shall ever be anything more
+to you than just that. Remember it, won't you, and make use of me in any
+way that you wish. I will gladly do anything."
+
+The words went straight from his heart to hers. Cynthia's eyes filled
+with sudden tears. She reached out and clasped his hand very closely.
+
+"Dear Jack," she said softly; "you're just the best friend I have in the
+world, and I sha'n't forget it--ever."
+
+He called early on the following day, and received the information that
+she was keeping her bed by the doctor's orders. Later in the day he went
+again, and found that the doctor was with her. He decided to wait, and
+paced up and down the drawing-room for nearly an hour. Eventually the
+doctor came.
+
+Babbacombe knew him slightly, and was not surprised when, at sight of
+him in the doorway, the doctor turned aside at once, and entered the
+room.
+
+"Miss Mortimer told me I should probably see you," he said, "and if I
+did so, she desired me to tell you everything. I am sorry to say that I
+think very seriously of the injury. I have just been persuading her to
+go into a private nursing-home. This is no place to be ill in, and I
+shall have to perform a slight operation to-morrow which will
+necessitate the use of an anaesthetic."
+
+"An operation!" Babbacombe exclaimed, aghast.
+
+"It is absolutely imperative," the doctor said, "to get at the seat of
+the poison. I am making every effort to prevent the mischief spreading
+any further. Should the operation fail, no power on earth will save her
+hand. It may mean the arm as well."
+
+Babbacombe listened to further explanations, sick at heart.
+
+"When do you propose to move her?" he asked presently.
+
+"At once. I am going now to make arrangements."
+
+"May I go in and see her if she will admit me?"
+
+"I don't advise it to-night. She is excited and overstrung. To-morrow,
+perhaps, if all goes well. Come round to my house at two o'clock, and I
+will let you know."
+
+But Babbacombe did not see her the next day, for it was found advisable
+to keep her absolutely quiet. The doctor was very reticent, but he
+gathered from his manner that he entertained very grave doubts as to the
+success of his treatment.
+
+On the day following he telephoned to Babbacombe to meet him at the home
+in the afternoon.
+
+Babbacombe arrived before the time appointed, and spent half an hour in
+sick suspense, awaiting the doctor's coming.
+
+The latter entered at last, and greeted him with a serious face.
+
+"I am going to let you see Miss Mortimer," he said. "What I feared from
+the outset has taken place. The mischief was neglected too long at the
+beginning. There is nothing for it but amputation of the hand. And it
+must be performed without delay."
+
+Babbacombe said something inarticulate that resolved itself with an
+effort into:
+
+"Have you told her?"
+
+"Yes, I have." The doctor's voice was stern. "And she absolutely refuses
+to consent to it. I have given her till to-morrow morning to make up her
+mind. After that--" He paused a moment, and looked Babbacombe straight
+in the face. "After that," he said, with emphasis, "it will be too
+late."
+
+When Babbacombe entered Cynthia's presence a few minutes later, he
+walked as a man dazed. He found her lying among pillows, with the
+sunlight streaming over her, transforming her brown hair into a mass of
+sparkling gold. The old quick, gracious smile welcomed him as he bent
+over her. There were deep shadows about her eyes, but they were
+wonderfully bright. The hand she gave him was as cold as ice, despite
+the flush upon her cheeks.
+
+"You have been told?" she questioned. "Yes, I see you have. Now, don't
+preach to me, Jack--dear Jack. It's too shocking to talk about. Can you
+believe it? I can't. I've always been so clever with my hands. Have you
+a pencil? I want you to take down a wire for me."
+
+In her bright, imperious way, she dominated him. It was well-nigh
+impossible to realise that she was dangerously ill.
+
+He sat down beside her with pencil and paper.
+
+"Address it to Mr. West," said Cynthia, her eyes following his fingers.
+"Yes. And now put just this: 'I am sick, and wanting you. Will you
+come?--Cynthia.' And write the address. Do you think he'll come, Jack?"
+
+"Let me add 'Urgent,'" he said.
+
+"No, Jack. You are not to. Add nothing. If he doesn't come for that, he
+will never come at all. And I sha'n't wait for him," she added under her
+breath.
+
+She seemed impatient for him to depart and despatch the message, but
+when he took his leave her eyes followed him with a wistful gratitude
+that sent a thrill to his heart. She had taken him at his word, and had
+made him her friend in need.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+"If he doesn't come for that, he will never come at all."
+
+Over and over Cynthia whispered the words to herself as she lay, with
+her wide, shining eyes upon the door, waiting. She was a gambler who had
+staked all on the final throw, and she was watching, weak and ill as she
+was after long suffering, watching restlessly, persistently, for the
+result of that last great venture. Surely he would come--surely--surely!
+
+Once she spoke imperiously to the nurse.
+
+"If a gentleman named West calls, I must see him at once, whatever the
+hour."
+
+The nurse raised no obstacle. Perhaps she realised that it would do more
+harm than good to thwart her patient's caprice.
+
+And so hour after hour Cynthia lay waiting for the answer to her
+message, and hour followed hour in slow, uneventful procession, bringing
+her neither comfort nor repose.
+
+At length the doctor came and offered her morphia, but she refused it,
+with feverish emphasis.
+
+"No, no, no! I don't want to sleep. I am expecting a friend."
+
+"Won't it do in the morning?" he said persuasively.
+
+Her grey eyes flashed eager inquiry up at him.
+
+"He is here?"
+
+The doctor nodded.
+
+"He has been here some time, but I hoped you would settle down. I want
+you to sleep."
+
+Sleep! Cynthia almost laughed. How inexplicably foolish were even the
+cleverest of men!
+
+"I will see him now," she said. "And, please, alone," as the doctor made
+a sign to the nurse.
+
+He moved away reluctantly, and again she almost laughed at his
+imbecility.
+
+But a minute later she had forgotten everything in the world save that
+upon which her eyes rested--a short, broad-shouldered man, clean-shaven,
+with piercing blue eyes that looked straight at her with
+something--something in their expression that made the heart within her
+leap and quiver like the strings of an instrument under a master hand.
+
+He came quietly to the bedside, and stood looking down upon her, not
+uttering a word.
+
+She stretched up her trembling hand.
+
+"I'm very glad to see you," she said weakly. "You got my message?
+It--it--I hope it didn't annoy you."
+
+"It didn't," said West.
+
+His voice was curt and strained. His fingers had closed very tightly
+upon her hand.
+
+"Sit down," murmured Cynthia. "No, don't let go. It helps me
+some to have you hold my hand. Mr. West, I've got to tell you
+something--something that will make you really angry. I'm rather
+frightened, too. It's because I'm sick. You--you must just make
+allowances."
+
+A light kindled in West's eyes that shone like a blue flame, but still
+he held himself rigid, inflexible as a figure hewn in granite.
+
+"Pray don't distress yourself, Miss Mortimer," he said stiffly.
+"Wouldn't it be wiser to wait till you are better before you go any
+further?"
+
+"I never shall be better," Cynthia rejoined, a tremor of passion in her
+voice, "I never shall go any further, unless you hear me out to-night."
+
+West frowned a little, but still that strange light shone in his steady
+eyes.
+
+"I am quite at your service," he said, "either now or at any future
+time. But if this interview should make you worse----"
+
+"Oh, shucks!" said Cynthia, with a ghostly little smile. "Don't talk
+through your hat, Mr. West!"
+
+West became silent. He was still holding her hand in a warm, close grasp
+that never varied.
+
+"Let's get to business," said Cynthia, with an effort to be brisk. "It
+begins with a confession. You know better than any one how I managed to
+hurt my hand so badly. But even you don't know everything. Even you
+never suspected that--that it wasn't an accident at all; that, in fact,
+I did it on purpose."
+
+She broke off for a moment, avoiding his eyes, but clinging tightly to
+his hand.
+
+"I did it," she went on breathlessly--"I did it because I heard you in
+the drive below, and I wanted to attract your attention. I couldn't see
+you, but I knew it was you. I was just going to spring the trap with my
+foot, and then--and then I heard you, and I stooped down--it came to me
+to do it, and I never stopped to think--I stooped down and put my hand
+in the way. I never thought--I never thought it would hurt so
+frightfully, or that it could come to this."
+
+She was crying as she ended, crying piteously; while West sat like a
+stone image, gazing at her.
+
+"Oh, do speak to me!" she sobbed. "Do say something! Do you know what
+they want to do? But I won't let them--I won't let them! It--it's too
+dreadful a thing to happen to a woman. I can't bear it. I won't bear it.
+It will be much easier to die. But you shall know the truth first."
+
+"Cynthia, stop!" It was West's voice at last, but not as she had ever
+heard it. It came from him hoarse and desperate, as though wrung by the
+extreme of torture. He had sunk to his knees by the bed. His face was
+nearer to hers than it had ever been before. "Don't cry!" he begged her
+huskily. "Don't cry! Why do you tell me this if it hurts you to tell
+me?"
+
+"Because I want you to know!" gasped Cynthia. "Wait! Let me finish! I
+wanted--to see--if--if you really cared for me. I thought--if you
+did--you wouldn't be able to go on pretending. But--but--you managed
+to--somehow--after all."
+
+She ended, battling with her tears; and West, the strong, the cold, the
+cynical, bowed his head upon her hand and groaned.
+
+"It was for--your own sake," he muttered brokenly, without looking up.
+
+"I know," whispered back Cynthia. "That was just what made it so
+impossible to bear. Because, you see, I cared, too."
+
+He was silent, breathing heavily.
+
+Cynthia watched his bent head wistfully, but she did not speak again
+till she had mastered her own weakness.
+
+"Mr. West," she said softly at length.
+
+He stirred, pressing her hand more tightly to his eyes.
+
+"I am going to tell you now," proceeded Cynthia, "just why I asked you
+to come to me. I suppose you know all about this trouble of mine--that I
+shall either die very soon, or else have to carry my arm in a sling for
+the rest of my life. Now that's where you come in. Would you--would you
+feel very badly if I died, I wonder?"
+
+He raised his head at that, and she saw his face as she had seen it once
+long ago--alert, vital, full of the passionate intensity of his love for
+her.
+
+"You sha'n't die!" he declared fiercely. "Who says you are going to
+die?"
+
+Cynthia's eyes fell before the sudden fire that blazed at her from his.
+"Unless I consent to be a cripple all my days," she said, with a curious
+timidity wholly unlike her usual dainty confidence.
+
+"Of course you will consent," West said, sweeping down her half-offered
+resistance with sheer, overmastering strength. "You'll face this thing
+like the brave woman you are. Good heavens! As if there were any
+choice!"
+
+"There is," Cynthia whispered, looking at him shyly, through lowered
+lids. "There is a choice. But it rests with you. Mr. West, if you want
+me to do this thing--if you really want me to, and it's a big thing to
+do, even for you--I'll do it. There! I'll do it! I'll go on living like
+a chopped worm for your sake. But--but--you'll have to do something for
+me in return. Now I wonder if you can guess what I'm hinting at?"
+
+West's face changed. The eagerness went out of it. Something of his
+habitual grimness of expression returned.
+
+Yet his voice was full of tenderness when he spoke.
+
+"Cynthia," he said very earnestly, "there is nothing on this earth that
+I will not do for you. But don't ask me to be the means of ruining you
+socially, of depriving you of all your friends, of degrading you to a
+position that would break your heart."
+
+A glimmer of amusement flashed across Cynthia's drawn face.
+
+"Oh!" she said, a little quiver in her voice. "You are funny, you men,
+dull as moles and blind as bats. My dear, there's only one person in
+this little universe who has the power to break my heart, and it isn't
+any fault of his that he didn't do it long ago. No, don't speak. There's
+nothing left for you to say. The petition is dismissed, but not the
+petitioner; so listen to me instead. I've a sentimental fancy to be able
+to have 'Mrs. Nat V. West' written on my tombstone in the event of my
+demise to-morrow. I want you to make arrangements for the same."
+
+"Cynthia!"
+
+The word was almost a cry, but she checked it, her fingers on his lips.
+
+"You great big silly!" she murmured, laughing weakly. "Where's your
+sense of humour? Can't you see I'm not going to die? But I'm going to be
+Mrs. Nat V. West all the same. Now, is that quite understood, I wonder?
+Because I don't want to cry any more--I'm tired."
+
+"You wish to marry me in the morning--before the operation?" West said,
+speaking almost under his breath.
+
+His face was close to hers. She looked him suddenly straight in the
+eyes.
+
+"Yes, just that," she told him softly. "I want--dear--I want to go to
+sleep, holding my husband's hand."
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+"It's a clear case of desertion," declared Cynthia imperturbably, two
+months later. "But never mind that now, Jack. How do you like my sling?
+Isn't it just the cutest thing in creation?"
+
+"You look splendid," Babbacombe said with warmth, but he surveyed her
+with slightly raised brows notwithstanding.
+
+She nodded brightly in response.
+
+"No, I'm not worrying any, I assure you. You don't believe me, I see. So
+here's something for you to read that will set your mind at rest."
+
+Babbacombe read, with a slowly clearing face. The note he held was in
+his agent's handwriting.
+
+     "I am leaving you to-day, for I feel, now you are well again, that
+     you will find it easier in my absence to consider very carefully
+     your position. Your marriage to me was simply an act of impulse. I
+     gave way in the matter because you were in no state to be thwarted.
+     But if, after consideration, you find that that act was a mistake,
+     dictated by weakness, and heaven knows what besides of generosity
+     and pity, something may yet be done to remedy it. It has never been
+     published, and, if you are content to lead a single life, no one
+     who matters need ever know that it took place. I am returning to my
+     work at Farringdean for the present. I am aware that you may find
+     some difficulty in putting your feelings in this matter into words.
+     If so, I shall understand your silence.
+
+     Yours,
+
+     "N. V. WEST."
+
+"Isn't he quaint?" said Cynthia, with a little gay grimace. "Now do you
+know what I'm going to do, Jack? I'm going to get a certain good friend
+of mine to drive me all the way to Farringdean in his motor. It's
+Sunday, you know, and all the fates conspire to make the trains
+impossible."
+
+"How soon do you wish to start?" asked Babbacombe.
+
+"Right away!" laughed Cynthia. "And if we don't get run in for exceeding
+the speed limit, we ought to be there by seven."
+
+It was as a matter of fact barely half-past six when Babbacombe turned
+the motor in at the great gates of Farringdean Park. A sound of
+church-bells came through the evening twilight. The trees of the avenue
+were still bare, but there was a misty suggestion of swelling buds in
+the saplings. The wind that softly rustled through them seemed to
+whisper a special secret to each.
+
+"I like those bells," murmured Cynthia. "They make one feel almost holy.
+Jack, you're not fretting over me?"
+
+"No, dear," said Babbacombe steadily.
+
+She squeezed his arm.
+
+"I'm so glad, for--honest Injun--I'm not worth it. Good-bye, then, dear
+Jack! Just drive straight away directly you've put me down. I shall find
+my own way in."
+
+He took her at her word as he always did, and, having deposited her at
+the gate under the trees that led to his bailiff's abode, he shot
+swiftly away into the gathering dusk without a single glance behind.
+
+West, entering his home a full hour later, heavy-footed, the inevitable
+cigarette between his lips, was surprised to discover, on hanging up his
+cap, a morsel of white pasteboard stuck jauntily into the glass of the
+hatstand. It seemed to fling him an airy challenge. He stooped to look.
+A lady's visiting-card! Mrs. Nat V. West!
+
+A deep flush rose suddenly in his weather-beaten face. He seized the
+card, and crushed it against his lips.
+
+But a few moments later, when he opened his dining-room door, there was
+no hint of emotion in his bearing. He bore himself with the rigidity of
+a man who knows he has a battle before him.
+
+The room was aglow with flickering firelight, and out of the glow a high
+voice came--a cheery, inconsequent voice.
+
+"Oh, here you are at last! Come right in and light the lamp. Did you see
+my card? Ah, I knew you would be sure to look at yourself directly you
+came in. There's nobody at home but me. I suppose your old woman's gone
+to church. I've been waiting for you such a while--twelve years and a
+bit. Just think of it."
+
+She was standing on the hearth waiting for him, but since he moved but
+slowly she stepped forward to meet him, her hand impetuously
+outstretched.
+
+He took it, held it closely, let it go.
+
+"We must talk things over," he said.
+
+"Splendid!" said Cynthia. "Where shall we begin? Never mind the lamp.
+Let's sit by the fire and be cosy."
+
+He moved forward with her--it was impossible to do otherwise--but there
+was no yielding in his action. He held himself as straight and stiff as
+a soldier on parade. He had bitten through his cigarette, and he tossed
+it into the fire.
+
+"Now sit down!" said Cynthia hospitably. "That chair is for you, and I
+am going to curl up on the floor at your feet as becomes a dutiful
+wife."
+
+"Don't, Cynthia!" he said under his breath. But she had her way,
+nevertheless. There were times when she seemed able to attain this with
+scarcely an effort.
+
+She seated herself on the hearthrug with her face to the fire.
+
+"Go on," she said, in a tone of gentle encouragement; "I'm listening."
+
+West's eyes stared beyond her into the flames.
+
+"I haven't much to say," he said quietly at length. "Only this. You are
+acting without counting the cost. There is a price to pay for
+everything, but the price you will have to pay for this is heavier than
+you realise. There should be--there can be--no such thing as equality
+between a woman in your position--a good woman--and a blackguard in
+mine."
+
+Cynthia made a little gesture of impatience without turning her head.
+
+"Oh, you needn't treat me as if I were on a different plane," she said.
+"I'm a sinner, too, in my own humble way. It's unreasonable of you to go
+on like that, unkind as well. I may be only a sprat in your estimation,
+but even a sprat has its little feelings, its little heartaches, too, I
+daresay." She broke off with a sigh and a laugh; then, drawing
+impulsively nearer to him, but still without turning: "Do you remember
+once, ages and ages ago, you were on the verge of saying something to
+me, of--telling me something? And we were interrupted. Mr. West, I've
+been waiting all these years to hear what that something was."
+
+West did not stir an eyelid. His face was stern and hard.
+
+"I forget," he said.
+
+She turned upon him then, raising a finger and pointing straight at him.
+
+"That," she said, with conviction, "is just one of your lies!"
+
+West became silent, still staring fixedly into the fire.
+
+Cynthia drew nearer still. She touched his breast with her outstretched
+finger.
+
+"Mr. West," she said gravely, "I suppose you'll have to leave off being
+a blackguard, and take to being an honest man. That's the only solution
+of the difficulty that I can think of now that you have got a crippled
+wife to look after."
+
+He gripped her wrist, but still he would not look at her.
+
+"This is madness," he said, grinding out the words through clenched
+teeth. "You are making a fatal mistake. I am not fit to be your husband.
+It is not in my power to give you happiness."
+
+She did not shrink from his hold, though it was almost violent. Her eyes
+were shining like stars.
+
+"That," she said, with quaint assurance, "is just another of your lies."
+
+His hand relaxed slowly till her wrist was free.
+
+"Do you know," he said, still with that iron self-suppression, "that
+only a few weeks ago I committed forgery?"
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia. "And I know why you did it, too. It wasn't exactly
+clever, but it was just dear of you all the same."
+
+The swindler's face quivered suddenly, uncontrollably. He tried to
+laugh--the old harsh laugh--but the sound he uttered was akin to
+something very different. He leaned forward sharply, and covered his
+face with his hands.
+
+And in that moment Cynthia knew that the walls of the citadel had fallen
+at last, so that it lay open for her to enter in.
+
+She knelt up quickly. Her arm slipped round his neck. She drew his head
+with soft insistence to her breast.
+
+"My own boy, it's over; forget it all. It wasn't meant to handicap you
+always. We'll have another deal now, please God, and start afresh as
+partners."
+
+There followed a pause--a silence that had in it something sacred. Then
+West raised himself, and took her face between his hands. For a moment
+he looked deep into her eyes, his own alight with a vital fire.
+
+Then, "As lovers, Cynthia," he said, and kissed her on the lips.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                            The Nonentity
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+"It is well known that those fight hardest who fight in vain," remarked
+Lord Ronald Prior complacently. "But I should have thought a woman of
+your intellect would have known better. It's such a rank waste of energy
+to struggle against Fate."
+
+He spoke in the easy drawl habitual to him. His grey eyes held the
+pleasant smile that was seldom absent from them. Not in any fashion a
+striking personality, this; his kindest friend could not have called him
+imposing, nor could the most uncharitable have described him as anything
+worse than dull. Enemies he had none. His invariable good temper was his
+safeguard in this particular. The most offensive remark would not have
+provoked more than momentarily raised eyebrows.
+
+He was positively characterless, so Beryl Denvers told herself a dozen
+times a day. How could she possibly marry any one so neutral? And yet in
+his amiable, exasperatingly placid fashion he had for some time been
+laying siege to her affections. He had shaved off his beard because he
+had heard her say that she objected to hairy men, and he seemed to think
+that this sacrifice on his part entitled him to a larger share of her
+favour than the rest of the world, certainly much more than she was
+disposed to bestow.
+
+He had, in fact, assumed almost an air of proprietorship over her of
+late--a state of affairs which she strongly resented, but was powerless
+to alter. He had a little money, but no prospects to mention, and had
+never done anything worth doing in all his five-and-thirty years. And
+yet he seemed to think himself an eligible _parti_ for one of the most
+popular women in the district. His social position gave him a certain
+precedence among her other admirers, but Beryl herself refused to
+recognise this. She thought him presumptuous, and snubbed him
+accordingly.
+
+But Lord Ronald's courtship seemed to thrive upon snubs. He was never in
+the least disconcerted thereby. He hadn't the brains to take offence,
+she told herself impatiently, and yet somewhere at the back of her mind
+there lurked a vagrant suspicion that he was not always as obtuse as he
+seemed.
+
+She had been rude to him on the present occasion and he had retaliated
+with his smiling speech regarding her intellect which had made her feel
+vaguely uncomfortable. It might have been--it probably was--an effort at
+bluff on his part, but, uttered by any other man, it would have had
+almost a hectoring sound.
+
+"I haven't the smallest notion what you mean," she said, after a decided
+pause.
+
+"Charmed to explain," he murmured.
+
+"Pray don't trouble!" she rejoined severely. "It doesn't signify in the
+least. Explanations always bore me."
+
+Lord Ronald smiled his imperturbable smile and flicked a gnat from his
+sleeve.
+
+"Especially when they are futile, eh, Mrs. Denvers? I'm not fond of 'em
+myself. Haven't much ability for that sort of thing."
+
+"Have you any ability for anything, I wonder?" she said.
+
+He turned his smooth, good-humoured countenance towards her. It wore a
+speculative look, as though he were wondering if by any chance she could
+have meant to be nasty.
+
+"Oh, rather!" he said. "I can do quite a lot of things--and decently,
+too--from boiling potatoes to taming snakes. Never heard me play the
+cornet, have you?"
+
+Beryl remarked somewhat unnecessarily that she detested the cornet. She
+seemed to be thoroughly exasperated with him for some reason, and
+evidently wished that he would take his leave. But this fact had not
+apparently yet penetrated to Lord Ronald's understanding, for he was the
+most obliging of men at all times, and surely would never have dreamed
+of intruding his presence where it was unwelcome.
+
+He sat on his favourite perch, the music-stool, and swung himself gently
+to and fro while he mildly upheld the virtues of the instrument she had
+slighted.
+
+"I was asked to perform at a smoker the other night at the barracks," he
+said. "The men seemed to enjoy it immensely."
+
+"Soldiers like anything noisy," said Beryl Denvers scathingly.
+
+And then--because he had no retort ready--her heart smote her.
+
+"But it was kind of you to go," she said. "I am sure you wouldn't enjoy
+it."
+
+"Oh, but I did," he said, "on the whole. I should have liked it better
+if Fletcher hadn't been in the chair, and so, I think, would they. But
+it passed off very fairly well."
+
+"Why do you object to Major Fletcher?" Beryl's tone was slightly
+aggressive.
+
+Lord Ronald hesitated a little.
+
+"He isn't much liked," he told her vaguely.
+
+She frowned.
+
+"But that is no answer. Are you afraid to answer me?"
+
+He laughed at that, laughed easily and naturally, in the tolerant
+fashion that most exasperated her.
+
+"Oh, no; I'm not afraid. But I don't like hurting people's
+feelings--especially yours."
+
+"I do not see how that is possible," she rejoined, with dignity, "where
+my feelings are not concerned."
+
+"Ah, but that's where it is," he responded. "You like Fletcher well
+enough to be extremely indignant if anyone were to tell you that he is
+not a nice person for you to know."
+
+"I object to unpleasant insinuations regarding any one," she said, with
+slightly heightened colour. "They always appear to me cowardly."
+
+"Yes; but you asked, you know," Lord Ronald reminded her gently.
+
+Her colour deepened. It was not often that he got the better of her; not
+often, indeed, that he exerted himself to do so. She began to wish
+ardently that he would go. Really, he was quite insufferable to-day.
+
+Had he been a man of any perception whatever she would almost have
+thought that he fathomed her desire, for at this point he rose in a
+leisurely fashion as though upon the point of departure.
+
+She rose also from behind the tea-table with a little inward pricking of
+conscience for wishing him gone. She wondered if he deemed her
+inhospitable, but if he did he disguised it very carefully, for his eyes
+held nothing but friendliness as they met her own.
+
+"Has it never occurred to you," he said, "that you lead a very
+unprotected existence here?"
+
+Something in his expression checked her first impulse to resent the
+question. Her lip quivered unexpectedly.
+
+"Now and then," she said.
+
+"Are you a man-hater?" he asked deliberately.
+
+She laughed a little.
+
+"Why do you ask such an absurd question?"
+
+He seemed to hesitate momentarily.
+
+"Because--forgive me--wouldn't you be a good deal happier if you were to
+marry again?"
+
+Again her colour rose hotly. What did the man mean by assuming this
+attitude? Was he about to plead his own cause, or that of another?
+
+"I think it exceedingly doubtful," she replied stiffly, meeting his
+steady eyes with a hint of defiance.
+
+"You have never thought of such a thing perhaps?" he suggested.
+
+She smiled a woman's pitying smile.
+
+"Of course I have thought of it."
+
+"Then you have not yet met the man to whom you would care to entrust
+yourself?" he asked.
+
+She took fire at this. It was an act of presumption not to be borne.
+
+"Even if I had," she said, with burning cheeks, "I do not think I should
+make Lord Ronald Prior my confidant."
+
+"No?" he said. "Yet you might do worse."
+
+Her eyes shot scorn.
+
+"Can a man be worse than inept?" she asked.
+
+"Yes," he answered. "Since you ask me, I think he can--a good deal
+worse."
+
+"I detest colourless people!" she broke in vehemently.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"In fact, you prefer black sheep to grey sheep. A good many women do.
+But it doesn't follow that the preference is a wise one."
+
+The colour faded suddenly from her face. Did he know how ghastly a
+failure her first marriage had been? Most people knew. Could it be to
+this that he was referring? The bare suspicion made her wince.
+
+"That," she said icily, "is no one's affair but my own. I am not wholly
+ignorant of the ways of the world. And I know whom I can trust."
+
+"You trust me, for instance?" said Lord Ronald.
+
+She looked him up and down witheringly.
+
+"I should say you are quite the most harmless man I know."
+
+"And you don't like me in consequence," he drawled, meeting the look
+with eyes so intent that, half-startled, she lowered her own.
+
+She turned away from him with an impatient gesture. He had never managed
+to embarrass her before.
+
+"I should like you better if you weren't so officious," she said.
+
+"But you have no one else to look after you," objected Lord Ronald.
+
+"Well, in any case, it isn't your business," she threw back, almost
+inclined to laugh at his audacity.
+
+"It would be if you married me," he pointed out, as patiently as if he
+were dealing with a fractious child.
+
+"If I----"
+
+She wheeled abruptly, amazed out of her disdain. It was the most prosaic
+proposal she had ever had.
+
+"If you married me," he repeated, keeping his eyes upon her. "You admit
+that I am harmless, so you would have nothing to fear from me. And as a
+watch-dog, I think you would find me useful--and quite easy to manage,"
+he added, with his serene smile.
+
+Beryl was staring at him in wide astonishment. Was the man mad to
+approach her thus?
+
+"No," he said. "I am quite sane; eccentric perhaps, but--as you are kind
+enough to observe--quite harmless. I never proposed to any woman before
+in my life, or so much as wanted to, so that must be my excuse for doing
+it badly. Really, you know, Mrs. Denvers, you might do worse than marry
+me. You might indeed."
+
+But at that her indignation broke bounds. If he were not mad, it made
+him the more intolerable. Did he fancy himself so desirable, then, that
+he had merely to fling her the handkerchief--to find her at his feet?
+His impertinence transcended belief. But she would pay him back in his
+own coin. He should never again imagine himself irresistible.
+
+"Really, Lord Ronald," she said, "if I actually needed a
+protector--which I do not--you are the very last person to whom I should
+turn. And as to a husband----"
+
+She paused a moment, searching for words sufficiently barbed to
+penetrate even his complacency.
+
+"Yes?" he said gently, as if desirous to help her out.
+
+"As to a husband," she said, "if I ever marry again, it will be a man I
+can respect--a man who can hold his own in the world; a man who is
+really a man, and not--not a nonentity!"
+
+Impetuously she flung the words. For all his placidity, he seemed to
+possess the power to infuriate her. She longed intensely to move him to
+anger. She felt insulted by his composure, hating him because he
+remained so courteously attentive.
+
+He made no attempt to parry her thrust, nor did he seem to be
+disconcerted thereby. He merely listened imperturbably till she ceased
+to speak. Then:
+
+"Ah, well," he said good-humouredly, "you mustn't take me too seriously.
+It was only a suggestion, you know." He picked up his hat with the
+words. "A pity you can't see your way to fall in with it, but you know
+best. Good-bye for the present."
+
+Reluctantly, in response to his evident expectation, she gave him her
+hand.
+
+"I wish you to understand, Lord Ronald," she said stiffly as she did so,
+"that my reply is final."
+
+He lifted his eyebrows for a second, and she fancied--could it have been
+mere fancy?--that the grey eyes shone with a certain steely
+determination that was assuredly foreign to his whole nature as he made
+deliberate reply:
+
+"That is quite understood, Mrs. Denvers. It was awfully kind of you to
+be so explicit. As you know, I am not good at taking hints."
+
+And with that he was gone, unruffled to the last, perfectly courteous,
+almost dignified, while she stood and watched his exit with a vague and
+disquieting suspicion that he had somehow managed to get the best of it
+after all.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+When Beryl Denvers first came to Kundaghat to be near her friend Mrs.
+Ellis, the Commissioner's wife, society in general openly opined that
+she had come to the populous Hill station to seek a husband. She was
+young, she was handsome, and she was free. It seemed the only reasonable
+conclusion to draw. But since that date society had had ample occasion
+to change its mind. Beryl Denvers plainly valued her freedom above every
+other consideration, and those who wooed her wooed in vain. She
+discouraged the attentions of all mankind with a rigour that never
+varied, till society began to think that her brief matrimonial
+experience had turned her into a man-hater. And yet this was hard to
+believe, for, though quick-tempered, she was not bitter. She was quite
+willing to be friendly with all men, up to a certain point. But beyond
+this subtle boundary few dared to venture and none remained. There was a
+wonderful fascination about her, a magnetism that few could resist; but
+notwithstanding this she held herself aloof, never wholly forgetting her
+caution even with those who considered themselves her intimates.
+
+Having dismissed Lord Ronald Prior, with whom she was almost
+unreasonably angry, she ordered her rickshaw and went out to cool her
+hot cheeks. The recent interview had disquieted her to the depths. She
+tried to regard his presumption as ludicrous, yet failed to do so. For
+what he had said was to a large extent true. She was unprotected, and
+she was also lonely, though this she never owned. She stifled a sigh as
+she set forth. Hitherto she had always liked Lord Ronald. Why had he
+couched his proposal in such impossible terms?
+
+She went to the polo-ground to watch the practice, and here found
+several friends in whose society she tried to forget her discomfiture.
+But it remained with her notwithstanding, and was still present when she
+returned to prepare for dinner. She was dining with the Ellises that
+night, and she hoped ardently that Lord Ronald would not make one of the
+party.
+
+But she was evidently destined for mortification that day, for the first
+thing she saw upon entering the drawing-room was his trim figure
+standing by her hostess. And, "Lord Ronald will take you in, dear," said
+Nina Ellis, as she greeted her.
+
+Beryl glanced at him, and he bowed in his courtly way. "I hope you don't
+mind," he murmured.
+
+She did mind exceedingly, but it was impossible to say so. She could
+only yield to the inevitable and rest the tips of her fingers upon his
+sleeve.
+
+It was with a decided sense of relief that she found Major Fletcher
+seated on her other side. A handsome, well-mannered cavalier was Major
+Fletcher, by every line of his figure a soldier, by every word of his
+conversation a gentleman. Exceedingly self-possessed at all times, it
+was seldom, if ever, that he laid himself open to a snub. It was
+probably for this very reason that Beryl liked him better than most of
+the men in Kundaghat, was less distant with him, and usually granted the
+very little that he asked of her.
+
+She turned to him at once with a random remark about the polo-players,
+wondering if they would be able to hold their own against a native team
+with whom a match had been arranged for the following week.
+
+"Oh, I think so," he said. "The Farabad men are strong, but our fellows
+are hard to beat. It won't be a walkover for either side."
+
+"Where will the match be played?" she asked, nervously afraid of letting
+the subject drop lest Lord Ronald should claim her attention.
+
+"Here," said Major Fletcher. "It was originally to have been at Farabad,
+but there was some difficulty about the ground. I was over there
+arranging matters only this evening. The whole place is being turned
+upside down for a native fair which is to be held in a few days, when
+the moon is full. You ought to see it. It is an interesting sight--one
+which I believe you would enjoy."
+
+"No doubt I should," she agreed. "But it is rather a long way, isn't
+it?"
+
+"Not more than twelve miles." Fletcher's dark face kindled with a sudden
+idea. "I could drive you down some morning early if you cared for it."
+
+Beryl hesitated. It was not her custom to accept invitations of this
+sort, but for once she felt tempted. She longed to demonstrate her
+independence to Lord Ronald, whose suggestions regarding her inability
+to take care of herself had so sorely hurt her pride. Might she not
+permit herself this one small fling for his benefit? It would be so good
+for him to realise that she was no incompetent girl, but a woman of the
+world and thoroughly well versed in its ways. And at least he would be
+forced to recognise that his proposal had been little short of an
+absurdity. She wanted him to see that, as she wanted nothing else on
+earth.
+
+"You think it would bore you?" asked Fletcher.
+
+"No," she said, flushing slightly; "I think I should like it."
+
+"Well done!" he said, with quiet approval. "You are such a hermit, Mrs.
+Denvers, that it will be quite a novelty for us both."
+
+She met his eyes for an instant, assailed by a sudden memory of Lord
+Ronald's vague remarks concerning him. But they were very level, and
+revealed nothing whatever. She told herself indignantly that there was
+nothing to reveal. The man had simply made her a friendly offer, and she
+determined to accept it in a like spirit.
+
+"It was kind of you to think of it," she said. "I will come with much
+pleasure."
+
+On her other side she heard Lord Ronald's leisurely tones conversing
+with his neighbour, and wondered if aught of the project had reached
+him. She hoped it had, though the serenity of his demeanour made her
+doubtful. But in any case he would surely know sooner or later.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+Major Fletcher was well versed in the ways of natives, and as they drove
+in his high dog-cart to Farabad a few days later, he imparted to his
+companion a good deal of information regarding them of which, till then,
+she had been quite ignorant.
+
+He succeeded in arousing her interest, and the long drive down the
+hillside in the early morning gave her the keenest enjoyment. She had
+been feeling weary and depressed of late, a state of affairs which could
+not fairly be put down to the score of ill-health. She had tried hard to
+ignore it, but it had obtruded itself upon her notwithstanding, and she
+was glad of the diversion which this glimpse of native life afforded
+her. Of Lord Ronald Prior she had seen nothing for over a week. He had
+left Kundaghat on the day following the dinner-party, dropping
+unobtrusively, without farewell, out of her life. She had told herself a
+dozen times, and vehemently, that she was glad of it, but the
+humiliating fact remained that she missed him--missed him at every turn;
+when she rode, when she danced, when she went out in her rickshaw, and
+most of all in her drawing-room.
+
+She had grown so accustomed to the sight of the thick-set, unromantic
+figure swinging lazily to and fro on her sorely tried music-stool,
+watching her with serene grey eyes that generally held a smile. She
+wished she had not been quite so severe. She had not meant to send him
+quite away. As a friend, his attitude of kindly admiration was all that
+could be desired. And he was so safe, too, so satisfactorily solid. She
+had always felt that she could say what she liked to him without being
+misunderstood. Well, he had gone, and as they finally alighted, and went
+forward on foot through the fair, she resolutely dismissed him from her
+mind.
+
+She made one or two purchases under Fletcher's guidance, which meant
+that she told him what she wanted and stood by while he bargained for
+her in Hindustani, an amusing business from her point of view.
+
+Undoubtedly she was beginning to enjoy herself, when he surprised her by
+turning from one of these unintelligible colloquies, and offering for
+her acceptance a beautifully wrought gold filigree bracelet.
+
+She looked at him blankly, not without a vague feeling of dismay.
+
+"Won't you have it?" he said. "Won't you permit me this small favour?"
+
+She felt the colour go out of her face. It was so unexpected, this from
+him--in a fashion, almost staggering. For some reason she had never
+regarded this man as a possible admirer. She felt as if the solid ground
+had suddenly quaked beneath her.
+
+"I would rather not," she said at last, avoiding his eyes instinctively.
+"Please don't think me ungracious. I know you mean to be kind."
+
+"If you really believe that," said Fletcher, smiling faintly, "I don't
+see your objection."
+
+The blood rushed back in a burning wave to her face. She, who prided
+herself upon being a woman of the world, blushed hotly, overwhelmingly,
+like any self-conscious girl.
+
+"I would rather not," she repeated, with her eyes upon the ground.
+
+But Fletcher was not to be turned lightly from his purpose.
+
+"I wouldn't distress you for the world, Mrs. Denvers," he said, "but
+don't you think you are a trifle unreasonable? No one expects a woman in
+your position to be a slave to convention. I would never have bought the
+thing had I dreamed that it could be an offence."
+
+There was a tinge of reproach in his voice, no more, but she felt
+inexplicably ashamed as she heard it. She looked up sharply, and the
+conviction that she was making herself ridiculous swept quickly upon
+her. She held out her hand to him, and mutely suffered him to slip the
+bangle on to her wrist.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+A curious rattling sound made them turn sharply the next moment, and
+even though it proved to be the warning signal of an old snake-charmer,
+Beryl welcomed the diversion. She looked at the man with a good deal of
+interest, notwithstanding her repulsion. He was wrapped in a long, very
+dirty, white _chuddah_, from which his face peered weirdly forth,
+wrinkled and old, almost supernaturally old, she thought to herself. It
+was very strangely adorned with red paint, which imparted to the eyes a
+ghastly pale appearance in the midst of the swarthy skin. A wiry grey
+beard covered the lower part of the face, and into this he was crooning
+a tuneless and wholly unintelligible song, while he squatted on the
+ground in front of a large, covered basket.
+
+"He has got a cobra there," Fletcher said, and took Beryl's arm quietly.
+
+She moved slightly, with a latent wish that he would take his hand away.
+But natives were beginning to crowd and press about them to see the
+show, and she realised that his action was dictated by necessity.
+
+"Shall I take you away before we get hemmed in?" he asked her once.
+
+But she shook her head. A nameless fascination impelled her to remain.
+
+Even when the snake-charmer shot forth a dusky arm and clawed the basket
+open, she showed no sign of fear, though Fletcher's hold upon her
+tightened to a grip. They seemed to be the only Europeans in all that
+throng, but that fact also she had forgotten. She could think of nothing
+but the crouching native before her, and the basket in which some
+living, moving thing lay enshrouded.
+
+Closely she watched the active fingers, alert and sensitive, feeling
+over the dingy cloth they had exposed. Suddenly, with a movement too
+swift to be followed, they rent the covering away, and on the instant,
+rearing upwards, she beheld a huge snake.
+
+A thrill of horror shot through her, so keen that it stabbed every
+pulse, making her whole body tingle. But there was no escape for her
+then, nor did she seek it. She had a most unaccountable feeling that
+this display was for her alone, that in some way it appealed to her
+individually; and she was no longer so much as conscious of Fletcher's
+presence at her side.
+
+The charmer continued his crooning noise, and the great cobra swayed its
+inflated neck to and fro as though to some mysterious rhythm, the native
+with naked hand and arm seeming to direct it.
+
+"Loathsome!" murmured a voice into Beryl's ear, but she did not hear it.
+Her whole intelligence was riveted upon the movements of the serpent and
+its master. It was a hideous spectacle, but it occupied her undivided
+attention. She had no room for panic.
+
+Suddenly the man's crooning ceased, and on the instant the cobra ceased
+to sway. It seemed to gather itself together, was rigid for perhaps five
+seconds, and then--swift as a lightning flash--it struck.
+
+A sharp cry broke from Beryl, but she never knew that she uttered it.
+All she was aware of was the ghastly struggle that ensued in front of
+her, the fierce writhing of the snake, the convulsive movements of the
+old native, and, curiously distinct from everything else, an impression
+of some stringed instrument thrumming somewhere at the back of the
+crowd.
+
+It all ended as unexpectedly as it had begun. The great reptile became
+suddenly inert, a lifeless thing; the monotonous crooning was resumed,
+proceeding as it were out of the chaos of the struggle, and round his
+neck and about his body the snake-charmer wound his vanquished foe.
+
+The moment for _backsheesh_ had arrived, and Beryl, coming suddenly out
+of her absorption, felt for her purse and awoke abruptly to the
+consciousness of a hand that gripped her arm.
+
+She glanced at Fletcher, who at once slackened his hold. "Don't you give
+the fellow anything," he said, with a touch of peremptoriness, "I will."
+
+She yielded, considering the matter too trivial for argument, and
+watched his rupee fall with a tinkle upon the tin plate which the
+snake-charmer extended at the length of his sinewy arm.
+
+Fletcher speedily made a way for her through the now shifting crowd; and
+after a little they found the _saice_, waiting with the mare under a
+tree. The animal was tormented by flies and restless. Certainly in this
+valley district it was very hot.
+
+"We will go back by the hill road," Fletcher said, as he handed her up.
+"It is rather longer, but I think it is worth it. This blaze is too much
+for you."
+
+They left the thronged highroad, and turned up a rutty track leading
+directly into the hills.
+
+Their way lay between great, glaring boulders of naked rock. Here and
+there tufts of grass grew beside the stony track, but they were brown
+and scorched, and served only to emphasise the barrenness of the land.
+
+For a while they drove in silence, mounting steadily the whole time.
+
+Suddenly Fletcher spoke. "We shall come to some shade directly. There is
+a belt of pine trees round the next curve."
+
+The words were hardly uttered when unexpectedly the mare shied, struck
+the ground violently with all four feet together, and bolted.
+
+Beryl heard an exclamation from the native groom, and half-turned to see
+him clinging to the back with a face of terror. She herself was more
+astonished than frightened. She gripped the rail instinctively, for the
+cart was jolting horribly as the mare, stretched out like a greyhound,
+fled at full gallop along the stony way.
+
+She saw Fletcher, with his feet against the board, dragging backwards
+with all his strength. He was quite white, but exceedingly collected,
+and she was instantly quite certain that he knew what he was about.
+
+There followed a few breathless moments of headlong galloping, during
+which they swayed perilously from side to side, and were many times on
+the verge of being overturned. Then, the ground rising steeply, the
+mare's wild pace became modified, developed into a spasmodic canter,
+became a difficult trot, finally slowed to a walk.
+
+Fletcher pulled up altogether, and turned to the silent woman beside
+him. "Mrs. Denvers, you are splendid!" he said simply.
+
+She laughed rather tremulously. The tension over, she was feeling very
+weak.
+
+The _saice_ was already at the mare's head, and Fletcher let the reins
+go. He dismounted without another word and went round to her side. Still
+silent, he held up his hands to her and lifted her down as though she
+had been a child. He was smiling a little, but he was still very pale.
+
+As for Beryl, the moment her feet touched the ground she felt as if the
+whole world had turned to liquid and were swimming around her in a
+gigantic whirlpool of floating impressions.
+
+"Ah, you are faint!" she heard him say.
+
+And she made a desperate and quite futile effort to assure him that she
+was nothing of the sort. But she knew that no more than a blur of sound
+came from her lips, and even while she strove to make herself
+intelligible the floating world became a dream, and darkness fell upon
+her.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+Gradually, very gradually, the mists cleared from Beryl's brain, and she
+opened her eyes dreamily, and stared about her with a feeling that she
+had been asleep for years. She was lying propped upon carriage-cushions
+in the shade of an immense boulder, and as she discovered this fact,
+memory flashed swiftly back upon her. She had fainted, of course, in her
+foolish, weak, womanly fashion. But where was Major Fletcher? The heat
+was intense, so intense that breathing in that prone position seemed
+impossible. Gasping, she raised herself. Surely she was not absolutely
+alone in this arid wilderness!
+
+She was not. In an instant she realised this, and wonder rather than
+fear possessed her.
+
+There, squatting on his haunches, not ten paces from her, was the old
+snake-charmer. His basket was by his side; his _chuddah_ drooped low
+over his face; he sat quite motionless, save for a certain palsied
+quivering, which she had observed before. He looked as if he had been in
+that place and attitude for many years.
+
+Beryl leaned her head upon her hand and closed her eyes. She was feeling
+spent and sick. He did not inspire her with horror, this old man. She
+was conscious of a faint sensation of disgust, that was all.
+
+A few seconds later she looked up again, wondering afresh whither her
+escort could have betaken himself. It seemed to her that the distance
+between herself and the old native had dwindled somewhat, but she did
+not bestow much attention upon him. She merely noted how fiercely the
+sun beat down upon his shrouded head, and wondered how he managed to
+endure it.
+
+The next time she opened her eyes, there were scarcely three yards
+between them. The instant her look fell upon him he began to speak in a
+thin, wiry voice of great humility.
+
+"Let the gracious lady pardon her servant," he said, in perfect English.
+"He would not harm a hair of her head."
+
+She raised herself to an upright position with an effort. Very curiously
+she did not feel in the least afraid. By an abrupt intuition, wholly
+inexplicable, she knew that the man had something to tell her.
+
+"What is it?" she said.
+
+He cringed before her.
+
+"Let my gracious lady have patience. It is no boon that her servant
+would desire of her. He would only speak a word of warning in the
+_mem-sahib's_ ear."
+
+Beryl had begun to give him her full attention. She had a feeling that
+she had seen the man somewhere before, but where and under what
+circumstances she could not recall. It was no moment for retrospection
+and the phantom eluded her.
+
+"What is it?" she said again, studying him with knitted brows.
+
+He bowed himself before her till he appeared to be no more than a bundle
+of dirty linen.
+
+"Let the gracious lady be warned by her servant," he said. "Fletcher
+_sahib_ is a man of evil heart."
+
+Beryl's eyes widened. Assuredly this was the last thing she had expected
+to hear from such a source.
+
+"What do you mean?" she asked.
+
+He grovelled before her, his head almost in the dust.
+
+"_Mem-sahib_ he has gone for water, but he will soon return. And he will
+lie to the gracious lady, and tell her that the shaft of the carriage is
+broken so that he cannot take her back. But it is not so, most gracious.
+The shaft is cracked, indeed, but it is not beyond repair. Moreover, it
+was cracked by the _saice_ at his master's bidding, while the
+_mem-sahib_ was at the fair."
+
+He paused; but Beryl said nothing. She was listening to the whole story
+in speechless, unfeigned astonishment.
+
+"Also," her informant proceeded, "the _sahib's_ mare was frightened, not
+by an accident, but by a trick. It was the _sahib's_ will that she
+should run away. And he chose this road so that he might be far from
+habitation, well knowing that for every mile on the lower road there are
+two miles to be travelled on this. _Mem-sahib_, your servant has spoken,
+and he prays you to beware. There is danger in your path."
+
+"But--but," gasped Beryl, "how do you know all this? What makes you tell
+me? You can't know what you are saying!"
+
+She was thoroughly frightened by this time, and heat and faintness were
+alike forgotten. Incredible as was the story to which she had listened,
+there was about it a vividness that made it terrifying.
+
+"But I don't understand," she said helplessly, as the snake-charmer
+remained silent to her questions. "It is not possible! It could not be!"
+
+He lifted his head a little and, from the depths of the _chuddah_, she
+knew that piercing eyes surveyed her.
+
+"_Mem-sahib_," he said, "your servant knew that this would happen, and
+he came here swiftly by a secret way to warn you. More, he knows that
+when Fletcher _sahib_ returns, he will speak lightly of the accident, so
+that the _mem-sahib_ will have no fear. 'A broken shaft is soon mended,'
+he will say. 'My servant has returned to Farabad--to a man he knows. We
+will rest under the trees but a furlong from this place till he comes
+back.' But, most gracious, he will not come back. There is no place at
+Farabad at this time of the fair where the work could be done. Moreover,
+the _saice_ has his orders, and he will not seek one. He will go back to
+Kundaghat with the mare, but he will walk all the way. It is fifteen
+miles from here by the road. He will not reach it ere nightfall. He will
+not return till after the darkness falls, and then he will miss the
+road. He will not find Fletcher _sahib_ and the gracious lady before the
+sunrise."
+
+Thus, in brief but telling sentences, the old native revealed to the
+white-faced woman before him the whole abominable plot. She listened to
+him in a growing agony of doubt. Could it be? Was it by any means
+possible that Fletcher, desiring to win her, but despairing of lessening
+the distance she maintained between them by any ordinary method, had
+devised this foul scheme of compromising her in the eyes of society in
+order to force her to accept him?
+
+Her cheeks burned furiously at the intolerable suspicion. It made her
+wholly forget that the man before her was an evil-looking native of whom
+she knew nothing whatever.
+
+With sudden impulse she turned and bestowed her full confidence upon
+him, the paint-smeared face and mumbling beard notwithstanding.
+
+"You must help me," she said imperiously. "You have done so much. You
+must do more. Tell me how I am to get back to Kundaghat."
+
+He made a deferential gesture.
+
+"The _mem-sahib_ cannot depart before the major _sahib_ returns," he
+said. "Let her therefore be faint once more, and let him minister to
+her. Let her hear his story, and judge if her servant has spoken truly.
+Then let the gracious lady go with him into the shade of the pine trees
+on the hill. When she is there let her discover that she has left behind
+her some treasure that she values--such as the golden bangle that is on
+the _mem-sahib's_ wrist. Let her show distress, and Fletcher _sahib_
+shall come back to seek it. Then let her listen for the scream of a jay,
+and rise up and follow it. It will lead her by a safe and speedy way to
+Kundaghat. It will be easy for the _mem-sahib_ to say afterwards that
+she began to wander and lost her way, till at last she met an aged man
+who guided her."
+
+Yes, quite easy. She assimilated this subtle suggestion, for the first
+time in her life welcoming craft. Of the extreme risk of the undertaking
+she was too agitated to think. To get away was her one all-possessing
+desire.
+
+While she thus desperately reviewed the situation, the snake-charmer
+began, with much grunting and mowing, to gather himself together for
+departure. She watched him, feeling that she would have gladly detained
+him had that been possible. Slowly, with palsied movements, he at length
+arose and took up his basket, doubled himself up before her with an
+almost ludicrous excess of deference, and finally hobbled away.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+There fell a step upon the parched earth, and with a start Beryl turned
+her head. She had seated herself again, but it was impossible to feign
+limpness with every pulse at the gallop. She looked up at Fletcher with
+a desperate smile.
+
+He wore a knotted handkerchief on his head to protect it from the sun,
+and in his hat, which he balanced with great care in both hands, he
+carried water.
+
+"I am glad to see you looking better," he said as he reached her. "I am
+afraid there isn't much more than a cupful left. I had to go nearly half
+a mile to get it, and it has been running out steadily all the way
+back."
+
+He knelt down before her, deep concern on his sunburnt face.
+Reluctantly, out of sheer gratitude, she dipped her handkerchief in the
+tepid drain, and bathed her face and hands.
+
+"I am so sorry to give you all this trouble," she murmured.
+
+He smiled with raised brows.
+
+"I think I ought to say that. You will never trust yourself to me again
+after this experience."
+
+She looked at him with a guilty sense of duplicity.
+
+"I--scarcely see how you were to blame for it," she said, rather
+faintly.
+
+He surveyed her for a moment in silence. Then, "I hardly know how to
+break it to you," he said. "I am afraid the matter is rather more
+serious than you think."
+
+She forced a smile. This delicate preparation was far more difficult to
+endure than the actual calamity to which it paved the way.
+
+"Please don't treat me like a coward," she said. "I know I was foolish
+enough to faint, but it was not so much from fright as from the heat."
+
+"You behaved splendidly," he returned, his dark eyes still intently
+watching her. "But this is not so much a case for nerve as for
+resignation. Mrs. Denvers, you will never forgive me, I know. That jump
+of the mare's damaged one of the shafts. The wonder is it didn't break
+altogether. I have had to send the _saice_ back to Farabad to try and
+get it patched up, and there is very little chance of our getting back
+to Kundaghat for two or three hours to come."
+
+All the time that he was communicating this tragic news, Beryl's eyes
+were upon his face. She paid no heed to his scrutiny. Simply, with
+absolute steadiness, she returned it.
+
+And she detected nothing--nothing but the most earnest regret, the most
+courteous anxiety regarding her welfare. Could it all be a monstrous
+lie, she asked herself. And yet it was to the smallest detail the story
+she had been warned to expect.
+
+"But surely," she said, at last, "we cannot be so very far from
+Kundaghat?"
+
+"No great distance as the crow flies," said Fletcher, "but a good many
+miles by road. I am afraid there is nothing for it but to wait till the
+mischief is repaired. My only comfort is that you will feel the heat
+less in returning later in the day. There are some pine trees on the
+other side of the rise where you can rest. If I had only brought
+something to eat I should have less cause to blame myself. As it is, do
+you think you will be able to hold out?"
+
+She smiled at that.
+
+"Oh, I am not starving yet," she said, with more assurance; "but I do
+not see the use of sitting still under the circumstances. I am quite
+rested now. Let us walk back to Farabad, and we might start on foot
+along the lower road for Kundaghat, and tell your man to overtake us."
+
+Notwithstanding the resolution she infused into her voice, she made the
+proposal somewhat breathlessly, for she knew--in her heart she
+knew--that it would be instantly negatived.
+
+And so it was. His face expressed sharp surprise for a second,
+developing into prompt remonstrance.
+
+"My dear Mrs. Denvers, in this heat! You have not the least idea of what
+it would mean. You simply have not the strength for such a venture."
+
+But Beryl was growing bolder in the face of emergency. She coolly set
+his assurance aside.
+
+"I do not quite agree with you," she said. "I am a better walker than
+you seem to imagine, and the walk into Farabad certainly would not kill
+me. We might be able to hire some conveyance there--a _tonga_ or even a
+bullock-cart"--she laughed a little--"would be better than nothing."
+
+But Fletcher persistently shook his head.
+
+"I am sorry--horribly sorry, but it would be downright madness to
+attempt it."
+
+"Nevertheless," said Beryl very quietly, "I mean to do so."
+
+She saw his brows meet for a single instant, and she was conscious of a
+sick feeling at her heart that made her physically cold. Doubt was
+emerging into deadly conviction.
+
+Suddenly he leaned towards her, and spoke very earnestly.
+
+"Mrs. Denvers, please believe that I regret this mischance every whit as
+much as you do. But, after all, it is only a mischance, and we may be
+thankful it was no worse. Shall we not treat it as such, and make the
+best of it?"
+
+He was looking her straight in the face as he said it, but, steady as
+was his gaze, she was not reassured. Quick as lightning came the
+thought--it was almost like an inner voice warning her--that he must not
+suspect the fact. Whatever happened she must veil her uneasiness, which
+she feared had been already far too obvious.
+
+Quietly she rose and expressed her willingness to go with him into the
+shade of the trees.
+
+They stood grouped on the side of a hill, a thick belt through which the
+scorching sun-rays slanted obliquely, turning the straight brown trunks
+to ruddiest gold. There was more air here than in the valley, and it was
+a relief to sit down in the shade and rest upon a fallen tree.
+
+Fletcher threw himself down upon the ground. "We can watch the road from
+here," he remarked. "We should see the dog-cart about a mile away."
+
+This was true. Barren, stony, and deserted, the road twisted in and out
+below them, visible from that elevation for a considerable distance.
+Beryl looked over it in silence. Her heart was beating in great
+suffocating throbs, while she strove to summon her resolution. Could she
+do this thing? Dared she? On the other hand, could she face the
+alternative risk? Her face burned fiercely yet again as she thought of
+it.
+
+Furtively she began to study the man stretched out upon the ground close
+to her, and a sudden, surging regret went through her. If only it had
+been Lord Ronald lounging there beside her, how utterly different would
+have been her attitude! Foolish and inept he might be--he was--but, as
+he himself had comfortably remarked, a man might be worse. She trusted
+him implicitly, every one trusted him. It was impossible to do
+otherwise.
+
+Had any one accused him of laying a trap for her, she would have treated
+the suggestion as too contemptible for notice. A sharp sigh escaped her.
+Why had he taken her so promptly at her word? He could never have
+seriously cared for her. Probably it was not in him to care.
+
+"You are not comfortable?" said Fletcher.
+
+She started at the sound of his voice, and with desperate impulse took
+action before her courage could fail her.
+
+"Major Fletcher, I--have lost the bangle you gave me. It slipped off
+down by that big rock when I was feeling ill. And I must have left it
+there. Should you very much mind fetching it for me?"
+
+She felt her face grow crimson as she made the request, and she could
+not look at him, knowing too well what he would think of her confusion.
+She felt, indeed, as if she could never look him in the face again.
+
+Fletcher sat quite still for a few seconds. Then, "But it's of no
+consequence, is it?" he said. "I will fetch it for you, of course, if
+you like, but I could give you fifty more like it. And in any case we
+can find it when Subdul comes with the dog-cart."
+
+He was reluctant to leave her. She saw it instantly, and tingled at the
+discovery. With a great effort she made her final attempt.
+
+"Please," she said, with downcast eyes, "I want it now."
+
+He was on his feet at once, looking down at her. "I will fetch it with
+the greatest pleasure," he said.
+
+And, not waiting for her thanks, he turned and left her.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+For many seconds after his departure Beryl sat quite rigid, watching his
+tall figure pass swiftly downwards through the trees. She did not stir
+till he had reached the road, then, with a sudden deep breath, she rose.
+
+At the same instant there sounded behind her, high up the hillside among
+the pine trees, the piercing scream of a jay.
+
+It startled her, for she had not been listening for it. All her thoughts
+had been concentrated upon the man below her. But this distant cry
+brought her back, and sharply she turned.
+
+Again came the cry, unmusical, insistent. She glanced nervously around,
+but met only the bright eyes of a squirrel on a branch above her.
+
+Again it came, arrogantly this time, almost imperiously. It seemed to
+warn her that there was no time for indecision. She felt as though some
+mysterious power were drawing her, and, gathering her strength, she
+began impetuously to mount the hill that stretched up behind her,
+covered with pine trees as far as she could see. It was slippery with
+pine needles, and she stumbled a good deal, but she faltered no longer
+in her purpose. She had done with indecision.
+
+She had climbed some distance before she heard again the guiding signal.
+It sounded away to her right, and she turned aside at once to follow it.
+In that instant, glancing downwards through the long, straight stems,
+she saw Fletcher far below, just entering the wood. Her heart leapt
+wildly at the sight. She almost stopped in her agitation. But the
+discordant bird-call sounded yet again, louder and more compelling than
+before, and she turned as a needle to a magnet and followed.
+
+The growth of pine trees became denser as she proceeded. It seemed to
+close her in and swallow her. But only once again did fear touch her,
+and that was when she heard Fletcher's voice, very far away but
+unmistakable, calling to her by name.
+
+With infinite relief, still following her unseen guide, at last she
+began to descend. The ground sloped sharply downwards, and creeping
+undergrowth began to make her progress difficult. She pressed on,
+however, and at length, hearing the tinkle of running water, realised
+that she was approaching one of the snow-fed mountain streams that went
+to swell the sacred waters that flowed by the temple at Farabad.
+
+She plunged downwards eagerly, for she was hot and thirsty, coming out
+at last upon the brink of a stream that gurgled over stones between
+great masses of undergrowth.
+
+"Will the _mem-sahib_ deign to drink?" a deferential voice asked behind
+her.
+
+She looked round sharply to see the old snake-charmer, bent nearly
+double with age and humility, meekly offering her a small brass
+drinking-vessel.
+
+His offer surprised her, knowing the Hindu's horror of a stranger's
+polluting touch, but she accepted it without question. Stooping, she
+scooped up a cupful of the clean water and drank.
+
+The draught was cold as ice and refreshed her marvellously. She thanked
+him for it with a smile.
+
+"And now?" she said.
+
+He bowed profoundly, and taking the cup he washed it very carefully in
+the stream. Then, deprecatingly, he spoke.
+
+"_Mem-sahib_, it is here that we cross the water."
+
+She looked at the rushing stream with dismay. It was not very wide but
+she saw at once that it was beyond a leap. She fancied that the swirling
+water in the middle indicated depth.
+
+"Do you mean I must wade?" she asked.
+
+He made a cringing gesture.
+
+"There is another way, most gracious."
+
+She gazed at him blankly.
+
+"Another way?"
+
+Again he bent himself.
+
+"If the _mem-sahib_ will so far trust her servant."
+
+"But--but how?" she asked, somewhat breathlessly. "You don't mean--you
+can't mean----"
+
+"_Mem-sahib_," he said gently, "it will not be the first time that I
+have borne one of your race in my arms. I may seem old to you, most
+gracious, but I have yet the vigour of manhood. The water is swift but
+it is not deep. Let the _mem-sahib_ watch her servant cross with the
+snake-basket, and she will see for herself that he speaks the truth. He
+will return for the _mem-sahib_, with her permission, and will bear her
+in safety to the farther bank, whence it is but an hour's journey on
+foot to Kundaghat."
+
+There was a coaxing touch about all this which was not lost upon Beryl.
+He was horribly ugly, she thought to herself, with that hideous red
+smear across his dusky face; but in spite of this she felt no fear.
+Unprepossessing he might be, but he was in no sense formidable.
+
+As she stood considering him he stooped and, lifting his basket, stepped
+with his sandalled feet into the stream. His long white garment trailed
+unheeded upon the water which rose above his knees as he proceeded.
+
+Reaching the further bank, he deposited his burden and at once turned
+back. Beryl was waiting for him. For some reason unknown even to
+herself, she had made up her mind to trust this old man.
+
+"If the most gracious will deign to rest her arm upon my shoulder," he
+suggested, in his meek quaver.
+
+And without further demur she complied.
+
+The moment he lifted her she knew that his strength was fully equal to
+the venture. His arms were like steel springs. He grunted a little to
+himself as he bore her across, but he neither paused nor faltered till
+he set her upon the bank.
+
+"The _mem-sahib_ will soon see the road to Kundaghat," he observed then.
+"She has but three miles yet to go."
+
+"Only three miles to Kundaghat!" she ejaculated in amazement.
+
+"Only three miles, most gracious." For the first time a hint of pride
+was mingled with the humility in his reedy voice. "The _mem-sahib_ has
+travelled hither by a way that few know."
+
+Beryl was fairly amazed at the news. She had believed herself to be many
+miles away. She began to wonder if her friend in need would consider the
+few rupees she had left adequate reward for his pains. Since she had
+parted with Fletcher's gift, she reflected that she had nothing else of
+value to bestow.
+
+The way now lay uphill, and all undergrowth soon ceased. They came out
+at last through thinning pine trees upon the crest of the rise, and from
+here, a considerable distance below, Beryl discerned the road along
+which she had travelled with Fletcher that morning.
+
+White and glaring it stretched below her, till at last a grove of mango
+trees, which she remembered to be less than a mile from Kundaghat,
+closed about it, hiding it from view.
+
+"The _mem-sahib_ will need her servant no more," said her guide, pausing
+slightly behind her while she studied the landscape at her feet with the
+road that wound through the valley.
+
+She took out her purse quickly, and shook its contents into her hand. He
+had been as good as his word, but she knew she had but little to offer
+him unless he would accompany her all the way to Kundaghat. She stopped
+to count the money before she turned--two rupees and eight annas. It did
+not seem a very adequate reward for the service he had rendered her.
+
+With this thought in her mind she slowly turned.
+
+"This is all I have with me--" she began to say, and broke off with the
+words half-uttered.
+
+She was addressing empty air! The snake-charmer had vanished!
+
+She stood staring blankly. She had not been aware of any movement. It
+was as if the earth had suddenly and silently gaped and swallowed him
+while her back was turned.
+
+In breathless astonishment she moved this way and that, searching for
+him among the trees that seemed to grow too sparsely to afford a screen.
+But she searched in vain. He had clean gone, and had taken his repulsive
+pet with him.
+
+Obviously, then, he had not done this thing for the sake of reward.
+
+A sense of uneasiness began to possess her, and she started at last upon
+her downward way, feeling as if the place were haunted.
+
+With relief she reached the road at length, and commenced the last stage
+of the return journey. The heat was terrific. She was intensely weary,
+and beginning to be footsore. At a turn in the road she paused a moment,
+looking back at the pine-clad hill from which she had come; and as she
+did so, distinct, though far away behind her, there floated through the
+midday silence the curious note of a jay. It sounded to her bewildered
+senses like a cracked, discordant laugh.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+On the following afternoon Major Fletcher called, but he was not
+admitted. Beryl was receiving no one that day, and sent him an
+uncompromising message to that effect. He lingered to inquire after her
+health, and, on being told that she had overtired herself and was
+resting, expressed his polite regret and withdrew.
+
+After that, somewhat to Beryl's surprise, he came no more to the
+bungalow.
+
+She remained in seclusion for several days after her adventure, so that
+fully a week passed before they met.
+
+It was while out riding one morning with Mrs. Ellis that she first
+encountered him. The meeting was unexpected, and, conscious of a sudden
+rush of blood to her cheeks, she bestowed upon him her haughtiest bow.
+His grave acknowledgment thereof was wholly without effrontery, and he
+made no attempt to speak to her.
+
+"Have you quarrelled with the Major?" asked Nina, as they rode on.
+
+"Of course not," Beryl answered, with a hint of impatience.
+
+But she knew that if she wished to appear at her ease she must not be
+too icy. She felt a very decided reluctance to take her friend into her
+confidence with regard to the Farabad episode. There were times when she
+wondered herself if she were altogether justified in condemning Major
+Fletcher unheard, in spite of the evidence against him. But she had no
+intention of giving him an opportunity to vindicate himself if she could
+possibly avoid doing so.
+
+In this, however, circumstances proved too strong for her. They were
+bound to meet sooner or later, and Fate ordained that when this should
+occur she should be more or less at his mercy.
+
+The occasion was an affair of some importance, being a reception at the
+palace of the native prince who dwelt at Farabad. It promised to be a
+function of supreme magnificence; it was, in fact, the chief event of
+the season, and the Anglo-Indian society of Kundaghat attended it in
+force.
+
+Beryl went with the Commissioner and his wife, but in the crowd of
+acquaintances that surrounded her almost from the moment of her arrival
+she very speedily drifted away from them. One after another claimed her
+attention, and almost before she knew it she found herself moving
+unattached through the throng.
+
+She was keenly interested in the brilliant scene about her. Flashing
+jewels and gorgeous costumes made a glittering wonderland, through which
+she moved as one beneath a spell. The magic of the East was everywhere;
+it filled the atmosphere as with a heavy fragrance.
+
+She had withdrawn a little from the stream of guests, and was standing
+slightly apart, watching the gorgeous spectacle in the splendidly
+lighted hall, when a tall figure, dressed in regimentals, came quietly
+up and stood beside her.
+
+With a start she recognised Fletcher. He bent towards her instantly, and
+spoke.
+
+"I trust that you have now quite recovered from your fatigue, Mrs.
+Denvers."
+
+She controlled her flush before it had time to overwhelm her.
+
+"Quite, thank you," she replied, speaking stiffly because she could not
+at the moment bring herself to do otherwise.
+
+He stood beside her for a space in silence, and she wondered greatly
+what was passing in his mind.
+
+At length, "May I take you to have some supper?" he asked. "Or would you
+care to go outside? The gardens are worth a visit."
+
+Beryl hesitated momentarily. To have supper with him meant a prolonged
+_tete-a-tete_, whereas merely to go outside for a few minutes among a
+host of people could not involve her in any serious embarrassment. She
+could leave him at any moment if she desired. She was sure to see some
+of her acquaintances. Moreover, to seem to avoid him would make him
+think she was afraid of him, and her pride would not permit this
+possibility.
+
+"Let us go outside for a little, then," she said.
+
+He offered her his arm, and the next moment was leading her through a
+long, thickly carpeted passage to a flight of marble steps that led
+downwards into the palace-garden.
+
+He did not speak at all; and she, without glancing at him, was aware of
+a very decided constraint in his silence. She would not be disconcerted
+by it. She was determined to maintain a calm attitude; but her heart
+quickened a little in spite of her. She saw that he had chosen an exit
+that would lead them away from the crowd.
+
+Dumbly they descended the steps, Fletcher unhesitatingly drawing her
+forward. The garden was a marvel of many-coloured lights, intricate and
+bewildering as a maze. Its paths were all carpeted, and their feet made
+no sound. It was like a dream-world.
+
+Here and there were nooks and glades of deepest shadow. Through one of
+these, without a pause, Fletcher led her, emerging at length into a
+wonderful fairyland where all was blue--a twilight haunt, where
+countless tiny globes of light nestled like sapphires upon every shrub
+and tree, and a slender fountain rose and fell tinkling in a shallow
+basin of blue stone.
+
+A small arbour, domed and pillared like a temple, stood beside the
+fountain, and as they ascended its marble steps a strong scent of
+sandalwood fell like a haze of incense upon Beryl's senses.
+
+There was no light within the arbour, and on the threshold instinctively
+she stopped short. They were as much alone as if miles instead of yards
+separated them from the buzzing crowds about the palace.
+
+Instantly Fletcher spoke.
+
+"Go in, won't you? It isn't really dark. There is probably a couch with
+rugs and cushions."
+
+There was, and she sat down upon it, sinking so low in downy luxuriance
+that she found herself resting not far from the floor. But, looking out
+through the marble latticework into the blue twilight, she was somewhat
+reassured. Though thick foliage obscured the stars, it was not really
+dark, as he had said.
+
+Fletcher seated himself upon the top step, almost touching her. He
+seemed in no hurry to speak.
+
+The only sound that broke the stillness was the babble of the fountain,
+and from far away the fitful strains of a band of stringed instruments.
+
+Slowly at length he turned his head, just as his silence was becoming
+too oppressive to be borne.
+
+"Mrs. Denvers," he said, his voice very deliberate and even, "I want to
+know what happened that day at Farabad to make you decide that I was not
+a fit escort for you."
+
+It had come, then. He meant to have a reckoning with her. A sharp tingle
+of dismay went through her as she realised it. She made a quick effort
+to avert his suspicion.
+
+"I wandered, and lost my way," she said. "And then I met an old native,
+who showed me a short cut. I ought, perhaps, to have written and
+explained."
+
+"That was not all that happened," Fletcher responded gravely. "Of
+course, you can refuse to tell me any more. I am absolutely at your
+mercy. But I do not think you will refuse. It isn't treating me quite
+fairly, is it, to keep me in the dark?"
+
+She saw at once that to fence with him further was out of the question.
+Quite plainly he meant to bring her to book. But she felt painfully
+unequal to the ordeal before her. She was conscious of an almost
+physical sense of shrinking.
+
+Nevertheless, as he waited, she nerved herself at length to speak.
+
+"What makes you think that something happened?"
+
+"It is fairly obvious, is it not?" he returned quietly. "I could not
+very easily think otherwise. If you will allow me to say so, your device
+was not quite subtle enough to pass muster. Even had you dropped that
+bangle by inadvertence--which you did not--you would not, in the
+ordinary course of things, have sent me off post haste to recover it."
+
+"No?" she questioned, with a faint attempt to laugh.
+
+"No," he rejoined, and this time she heard a note of anger, deep and
+unmistakable, in his voice.
+
+She drew herself together as it reached her. It was to be a battle,
+then, and instinctively she knew that she would need all her strength.
+
+"Well," she said finally, affecting an assurance she was far from
+feeling, "I have no objection to your knowing what happened since you
+have asked. In fact, perhaps,--as you suggest,--it is scarcely fair that
+you should not know."
+
+"Thank you," he responded, with a hint of irony.
+
+But she found it difficult to begin, and she could not hide it from him,
+for he was closely watching her.
+
+He softened a little as he perceived this.
+
+"Pray don't be agitated," he said. "I do not for a moment question that
+your reason for what you did was a good one. I am only asking you to
+tell me what it was."
+
+"I know," she answered. "But it will make you angry, and that is why I
+hesitate."
+
+He leaned towards her slightly.
+
+"Can it matter to you whether I am angry or not?"
+
+She shivered a little.
+
+"I never offend any one if I can help it. I think it is a mistake.
+However, you have asked for it. What happened was this. It was when you
+left me to get some water. An old man, a native, came and spoke to me.
+Perhaps I was foolish to listen, but I could scarcely have done
+otherwise. And he told me--he told me that the accident to the dog-cart
+was not--not--" She paused, searching for a word.
+
+"Genuine," suggested Fletcher very quietly.
+
+She accepted the word. The narration was making her very nervous.
+
+"Yes, genuine. He told me that the _saice_ had cracked the shaft
+beforehand, that there was no possibility of getting it repaired at
+Farabad, that he would have to return to Kundaghat and might not,
+probably would not, come back for us before the following morning."
+
+Haltingly, rather breathlessly, the story came from her lips. It sounded
+monstrous as she uttered it. She could not look at Fletcher, but she
+knew that he was angry; something in the intense stillness of his
+attitude told her this.
+
+"Please go on," he said, as she paused. "You undertook to tell me the
+whole truth, remember."
+
+With difficulty she continued.
+
+"He told me that the mare was frightened by a trick, that you chose the
+hill-road because it was lonely and difficult. He told me exactly what
+you would say when you came back. And--and you said it."
+
+"And that decided you to play a trick upon me and escape?" questioned
+Fletcher. "Your friend's suggestion, I presume?"
+
+His words fell with cold precision; they sounded as if they came through
+his teeth.
+
+She assented almost inaudibly. He made her feel contemptible.
+
+"And afterwards?" he asked relentlessly.
+
+She made a final effort; there was that in his manner that frightened
+her.
+
+"Afterwards, he gave a signal--it was the cry of a jay--for me to
+follow. And he led me over the hill to a stream where he waited for me.
+We crossed it together, and very soon after he pointed out the
+valley-road below us, and left me."
+
+"You rewarded him?" demanded Fletcher swiftly.
+
+"No; I--I was prepared to do so, but he disappeared."
+
+"What was he like?"
+
+She hesitated.
+
+"Mrs. Denvers!" His tone was peremptory.
+
+"I do not feel bound to tell you that," she said, in a low voice.
+
+"I have a right to know it," he responded firmly.
+
+And after a moment she gave in. The man was probably far away by this
+time. She knew that the fair was over.
+
+"It was--the old snake-charmer."
+
+"The man we saw at Farabad?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Fletcher received the information in silence, and several seconds
+dragged away while he digested it. She even began to wonder if he meant
+to say anything further, almost expecting him to get up and stalk away,
+too furious for speech.
+
+But at length, very unexpectedly and very quietly, he spoke.
+
+"Would it be of any use for me to protest my innocence?"
+
+She did not know how to answer him.
+
+He proceeded with scarcely a pause:
+
+"It seems to me that my guilt has been taken for granted in such a
+fashion that any attempt on my part to clear myself would be so much
+wasted effort. It simply remains for you to pass sentence."
+
+She lifted her head for the first time, startled out of all composure.
+His cool treatment of the matter was more disconcerting than any
+vehement protestations. It was almost as though he acknowledged the
+offence and swept it aside with the same breath as of no account. Yet it
+was incredible, this view of the case. There must be some explanation.
+He would never dare to insult her thus.
+
+Impulsively she rose, inaction becoming unendurable. He stood up
+instantly, and they faced one another in the weird blue twilight.
+
+"I think I have misunderstood you!" she said breathlessly, and there
+stopped dead, for something--something in his face arrested her.
+
+The words froze upon her lips. She drew back with a swift, instinctive
+movement. In one flashing second of revelation unmistakable she knew
+that she had done him no injustice. Her eyes had met his, and had sunk
+dismayed before the fierce passion that had flamed back at her.
+
+In the pause that followed she heard her own heartbeats, quick and hard,
+like the flying feet of a hunted animal. Then--for she was a woman, and
+instinct guided her--she covered up her sudden fear, and faced him with
+stately courage.
+
+"Let us go back," she said.
+
+"You have nothing to say to me?" he asked.
+
+She shook her head in silence, and made as if to depart.
+
+But he stood before her, hemming her in. He did not appear to notice her
+gesture.
+
+"But I have something to say to you!" he said. And in his voice, for all
+its quietness, was a note that made her tremble. "Something to which I
+claim it as my right that you should listen."
+
+She faced him proudly, though she was white to the lips.
+
+"I thought you had refused to plead your innocence," she said.
+
+"I have," he returned. "I do. But yet----"
+
+"Then I will not hear another word," she broke in. "Let me pass!"
+
+She was splendid as she stood there confronting him, perhaps more
+splendid than she had ever been before. She had reached the ripe beauty
+of her womanhood. She would never be more magnificent than she was at
+that moment. The magic of her went to the man's head like wine. Till
+that instant he had to a great extent controlled himself, but that was
+the turning-point. She dazzled him, she intoxicated him, she maddened
+him.
+
+The savagery in him flared into a red blaze of passion. Without another
+word he caught her suddenly to him, and before she could begin to
+realise his intention he had kissed her fiercely upon the lips.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+The moments that followed were like a ghastly nightmare to Beryl, for,
+struggle as she might, she knew herself to be helpless. Having once
+passed the bounds of civilisation, he gave full rein to his savagery.
+And again and yet again, holding her crushed to him, he kissed her
+shrinking face. He was as a man possessed, and once he laughed--a
+devilish laugh--at the weakness of her resistance.
+
+And then quite suddenly she felt his grip relax. He let her go abruptly,
+so that she tottered and almost fell, only saving herself by one of the
+pillars of the arbour.
+
+A great surging was in her brain, a surging that nearly deafened her.
+She was too spent, too near to swooning, to realise what it was that had
+wrought her deliverance. She could only cling gasping and quivering to
+her support while the tumult within her gradually subsided.
+
+It was several seconds later that she began to be aware of something
+happening, of some commotion very near to her, of trampling to and fro,
+and now and again of a voice that cursed. These things quickly goaded
+her to a fuller consciousness. Exhausted though she was, she managed to
+collect her senses and look down upon the spectacle below her.
+
+There, on the edge of the fountain, two figures swayed and fought. One
+of them she saw at a glance was Fletcher. She had a glimpse of his face
+in the uncanny gloom, and it was set and devilish, bestial in its
+cruelty. The other--the other--she stared and gasped and stared
+again--the other, beyond all possibility of doubt, was the ancient
+snake-charmer of Farabad.
+
+Yet it was he who cursed--and cursed in excellent English--with a
+fluency that none but English lips could possibly have achieved. And the
+reason for his eloquence was not far to seek. For he was being thrashed,
+thrashed scientifically, mercilessly, and absolutely thoroughly--by the
+man whom he had dared to thwart.
+
+He was draped as before in his long native garment--and this, though it
+hung in tatters, hampered his movements, and must have placed him at a
+hopeless disadvantage even had he not been completely outmatched in the
+first place.
+
+Standing on the steps above them, Beryl took in the whole situation, and
+in a trice her own weakness was a thing of the past. Amazed,
+incredulous, bewildered as she was, the urgent need for action drove all
+questioning from her mind. There was no time for that. With a cry, she
+sprang downwards.
+
+And in that instant Fletcher delivered a smashing blow with the whole of
+his strength, and struck his opponent down.
+
+He fell with a thud, striking his head against the marble of the
+fountain, and to Beryl's horror he did not rise again. He simply lay as
+he had fallen, with arms flung wide and face upturned, motionless,
+inanimate as a thing of stone.
+
+In an agony she dropped upon her knees beside him.
+
+"You brute!" she cried to Fletcher. "Oh, you brute!"
+
+She heard him laugh in answer, a fierce and cruel laugh, but she paid no
+further heed to him. She was trying to raise the fallen man, dabbing the
+blood that ran from a cut on his temple, lifting his head to lie in the
+hollow of her arm. Her incredulity had wholly passed. She knew him now
+beyond all question. He would never manage to deceive her again.
+
+"Speak to me! Oh, do speak to me!" she entreated. "Ronald, open your
+eyes! Please open your eyes!"
+
+"He is only stunned." It was Fletcher's voice above her. "Leave him
+alone. He will soon come to his senses. Serves him right for acting the
+clown in this get-up."
+
+She looked up sharply at that and a perfect tempest of indignation took
+possession of her, banishing all fear.
+
+"What he did," she said, in a voice that shook uncontrollably, "was for
+my sake alone, that he might be able to protect me from cads and
+blackguards. I refuse to leave him like this, but the sooner you go, the
+better. I will never--never as long as I live--speak to you again!"
+
+Her blazing eyes, and the positive fury of her voice, must have carried
+conviction to the most obtuse, and this Fletcher certainly was not. He
+stood a moment, looking down at her with an insolence that might have
+frightened her a little earlier, but which now she met with a new
+strength that he felt himself powerless to dominate. She was not
+thinking of herself at all just then, and perhaps that was the secret of
+her ascendancy. His own brute force crumbled to nothing before it, and
+he knew that he was beaten.
+
+Without a word he bowed to her, smiling ironically, and turned upon his
+heel.
+
+She drew a great breath of relief as she saw him go. She felt as though
+a horrible oppression had passed out of the atmosphere. That fairy haunt
+with its bubbling fountain and sapphire lamps was no longer an evil
+place.
+
+She bent again over her senseless companion.
+
+"Ronald!" she whispered. "My dear, my dear, can't you hear me? Oh, if
+only you would open your eyes!"
+
+She soaked her handkerchief in the water and held it to the wound upon
+his forehead. Even as she did it, she felt him stir, and the next moment
+his eyes were open, gazing straight up into her own.
+
+"Damn the brute!" said Lord Ronald faintly.
+
+"You are better?" she whispered thankfully.
+
+His hand came upwards gropingly, and took the soaked handkerchief from
+her. He dabbed his face with it, and slowly, with her assistance, sat
+up.
+
+"Where is he?" he asked.
+
+"He has gone," she told him. "I--ordered him to go."
+
+"Better late than never," said Lord Ronald thoughtfully.
+
+He leaned upon the edge of the fountain, still mopping the blood from
+his face, till, suddenly feeling his beard, he stripped it off with a
+gesture of impatience.
+
+"Afraid I must have given you a nasty shock," he said. "I didn't expect
+to be mauled like this."
+
+"Please--please don't apologise," she begged him, with a sound that was
+meant for a laugh, but was in effect more like a sob.
+
+He turned towards her in his slow way.
+
+"I'm not apologising. Only--you know--I've taken something of a liberty,
+though, on my honour, it was well meant. If you can overlook that----"
+
+"I shall never overlook it," she said tremulously.
+
+He put the _chuddah_ back from his head and regarded her gravely. His
+face was swollen and discoloured, but this fact did not in the smallest
+degree lessen the quaint self-assurance of his demeanour.
+
+"Yes, but you mustn't cry about it," he said gently. "And you mustn't
+blame yourself either. I knew the fellow, remember; you didn't."
+
+"I didn't know you, either," she said, sitting down on the edge of the
+fountain. "I--I've been a perfect fool!"
+
+Silence followed this statement. She did not know quite whether she
+expected Lord Ronald to agree with her or to protest against the
+severity of her self-arraignment, but she found his silence peculiarly
+hard to bear.
+
+She had almost begun to resent it, when suddenly, very softly, he spoke:
+
+"It's never too late to mend, is it?"
+
+"I don't know," she answered. "I almost think it is--at my age."
+
+He dipped her handkerchief again in the fountain, and dabbed his face
+afresh. Then:
+
+"Don't you think you might try?" he suggested, in his speculative drawl.
+
+She shook her head rather drearily.
+
+"I suppose I shall have to resign myself, and get a companion. I shall
+hate it, and so will the companion, but----"
+
+"Think so?" said Lord Ronald. He laid his hand quietly on her knee.
+"Mrs. Denvers," he said, "I am afraid you thought me awfully impertinent
+when I suggested your marrying me the other day. It wasn't very
+ingenious of me, I admit. But what can you expect from a nonentity? Not
+brains, surely! I am not going to repeat the blunder. I know very well
+that I am no bigger than a peppercorn in your estimation, and we will
+leave it at that. But, you know, you are too young, you really are too
+young, to live alone. Now listen a moment. You trust me. You said so.
+You'll stick to that?"
+
+"Of course," she said, wondering greatly what was coming.
+
+"Then will you," he proceeded very quietly, "have me for a watch-dog
+until you marry again? I could make you an excellent Sikh servant, and I
+could go with you practically everywhere. Don't begin to laugh at the
+suggestion until you have thoroughly considered it. It could be done in
+such a way that no one would suspect. It matters nothing to any one how
+I pass my time, and I may as well do something useful for once. I know
+at first sight it seems impossible, but it is nothing of the sort in
+reality. It isn't the first time I have faked as a native. I am Indian
+born, and I have spent the greater part of my life knocking about the
+Empire. The snake-taming business I picked up from an old bearer of
+mine--a very old man he's now and in the trade himself. I got him to
+lend me his most docile cobra. The thing was harmless, of course. But
+all this is beside the point. The point is, will you put up with me as a
+retainer, no more, until you find some one more worthy of the high
+honour of guarding you? I shall never, believe me, take advantage of
+your kindness. And on the day you marry again I shall resign my post."
+
+She had listened to the amazing suggestion in unbroken silence, and even
+when he paused she did not at once speak. Her head was bent, almost as
+though she did not wish him to see her face--he, the peppercorn, the
+nonentity, whose opinion mattered so little!
+
+Yet as he waited, still with that quiet hand upon her as though to
+assure her of his solidity, his trustworthiness, she spoke at last, in a
+voice so small that it sounded almost humble.
+
+"But, Lord Ronald, I--I may never marry again. My late marriage was--was
+such a grievous mistake. I was so young at the time, and--and----"
+
+"Don't tell me," he said gently.
+
+"But--but--if I never marry again?" she persisted.
+
+"Then--unless, of course, you dismiss me--I shall be with you for all
+time," he said.
+
+She made a slight, involuntary movement, and he took his hand away.
+
+"Will you think it over before you decide?" he said. "I will come to
+you, as soon as I am presentable, for your answer. For the present,
+would you not be wise to go back to your friends? I am too disreputable
+to escort you, but I will watch you to the palace steps."
+
+He got to his feet as he spoke. He was still absently mopping his face
+with the scrap of lace he had taken from her.
+
+Beryl stood up also. She wanted to be gracious to him, but she was
+unaccountably shy. No words would come.
+
+He waited courteously.
+
+At last:
+
+"Lord Ronald," she said with difficulty, "I know you are in earnest. But
+do you--do you really wish to be taken at your word?"
+
+He raised his eyebrows as if the question slightly surprised him.
+
+"Certainly," he said.
+
+Still she stood hesitating.
+
+"I wish you would tell me why," she said, almost under her breath.
+
+"Why?" he repeated uncomprehendingly.
+
+"Yes, why you wish to safeguard me in this fashion," she explained, in
+evident embarrassment.
+
+"Oh, that!" he said slowly. "I suppose it is because I happen to care
+for your safety."
+
+"Yes?" she murmured, still pausing.
+
+He looked at her with his straight grey eyes that were so perfectly true
+and kind.
+
+"That's all," he said, and smiled upon her reassuringly.
+
+Beryl uttered a sharp sigh and let the matter drop. Nonentity though he
+might be, she would have given much for a glimpse of his inner soul just
+then.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+For three days after the reception at Farabad Beryl Denvers returned to
+her seclusion, and during those three days she devoted the whole of her
+attention to the plan that Lord Ronald Prior had laid before her. It
+worried her a good deal. There were so many obstacles to its
+satisfactory fulfilment. She wished he had not been so pleasantly vague
+regarding his own feelings in the matter. Of course, it was a
+feather-brained scheme from start to finish, and yet in a fashion it
+attracted her. He was so splendidly safe, so absolutely reliable; she
+needed just such a protector. And yet--and yet--there were so many
+obstacles.
+
+On the fourth day Lord Ronald's card was brought to her. He did not call
+at the conventional hour, and the reason for this was not hard to
+fathom. He had come for her final decision, and he desired to see her
+alone.
+
+She did not know how to meet him or what to say, but it was useless to
+shirk the interview. She entered her drawing-room with decidedly
+heightened colour, even while telling herself that it was absurd to feel
+any embarrassment in his presence.
+
+He was waiting for her on his favourite perch, the music-stool, swinging
+idly to and fro, with his customary serenity of demeanour. He moved to
+meet her with a quiet smile of welcome. A piece of strapping-plaster
+across his left temple was all that remained of his recent
+disfigurement.
+
+"I hope my visit is not premature," he remarked as he shook hands.
+
+"Oh, no!" she answered somewhat nervously. "I expected you. Please sit
+down."
+
+He subsided again upon the music-stool, and there followed a silence
+which she found peculiarly disconcerting.
+
+"You have been thinking over my suggestion?" he drawled at length.
+
+"Yes," she said. "Yes, I have." She paused a moment, then, "I--am afraid
+it wouldn't answer," she said, with an effort, "though I am very
+grateful to you for thinking of it. You see, there are so many
+obstacles."
+
+"But not insurmountable, any of them," smiled Lord Ronald.
+
+"I am afraid so," she said.
+
+He looked at her.
+
+"May I not hear what they are?"
+
+She hesitated.
+
+"For one thing, you know," she said, "one pays one's servants."
+
+"Well, but you can pay me," he said simply. "I shall not ask very high
+wages. I am easily satisfied. I shouldn't call that an obstacle."
+
+She laughed a little.
+
+"But that isn't all. There is the danger of being found out. It--it
+would make it rather awkward, wouldn't it? People would talk."
+
+"No one ever talks scandal of me," said Lord Ronald comfortably. "I am
+considered eccentric, but quite incapable of anything serious. I don't
+think you need be afraid. There really isn't the smallest danger of my
+being discovered, and even if I were, I could tell the truth, you know.
+People always believe what I say."
+
+She smiled involuntarily at his simplicity, but she shook her head.
+
+"It really wouldn't do," she said.
+
+"What! More obstacles?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, one--the greatest of all, in my opinion." She got up and moved
+across the room, he pivoting slowly round to watch her.
+
+She came to a stand by her writing-table, and began to turn over a
+packet of letters that lay there. She did it mechanically, with hands
+that shook a little. Her face was turned away from him.
+
+He waited for a few seconds; then, as she still remained silent, he
+spoke.
+
+"What is this last obstacle, Mrs. Denvers?"
+
+She answered him with her head bent, her fingers still fluttering the
+papers before her.
+
+"You," she said, in a low voice. "You yourself."
+
+"Me!" said Lord Ronald, in evident astonishment.
+
+She nodded without speaking.
+
+"But--I'm sorry," he said pathetically, "I'm afraid I don't quite follow
+you. I am not famed for my wits, as you know."
+
+She laughed at that, unexpectedly and quite involuntarily; and though
+she was instantly serious again the laugh served to clear away some of
+her embarrassment.
+
+"Oh, but you are absurd," she said, "to talk like that. No dull-witted
+person could ever have done what you have been doing lately. Major
+Fletcher himself told me that day we went to Farabad that it needed
+sharp wits to pose as a native among natives. He also said--" She paused
+suddenly.
+
+"Yes?" said Lord Ronald.
+
+She glanced round at him momentarily.
+
+"I don't know why I should repeat it. It is quite beside the point. He
+also said that it entailed a risk that no one would care to take
+unless--unless there was something substantial to be gained by it."
+
+"Well, but there was," said Lord Ronald vaguely.
+
+"Meaning my safety?" she questioned.
+
+"Exactly," he said.
+
+She became silent; but she fidgeted no longer with her papers. She was
+making up her mind to take a bold step.
+
+"Lord Ronald," she said at last, "I am going to ask you a very direct--a
+horribly direct--question. Will you answer me quite directly too?
+And--and--tell me the truth, even if it sounds rather brutal?"
+
+There was an unmistakable appeal in her voice. With an effort she
+wheeled in her chair, and fully faced him. But she was so plainly
+distressed that even he could not fail to notice it.
+
+"What is it?" he said kindly. "I will tell you the truth, of course. I
+always do."
+
+"You promise?" she said, very earnestly.
+
+"Certainly I promise," he said.
+
+"Then--you must forgive my asking, but I must know, and I can't find out
+in any other way--Lord Ronald, are you--are you in love with me?"
+
+She saw the grey eyes widen in astonishment, and was conscious of a
+moment of overwhelming embarrassment; and then, slow and emphatic, his
+answer came, banishing all misgiving.
+
+"But of course I am," he said. "I thought you knew."
+
+She summoned to her aid an indignation she was far from feeling; she had
+to cloak her confusion somehow. "How could I possibly know?" she said.
+"You never told me."
+
+"I asked you to marry me," he protested. "I thought you would take the
+other thing for granted."
+
+She stood up abruptly, turning from him. It was impossible to keep up
+her indignation. It simply declined to carry her through.
+
+"You--you are a perfect idiot!" she said shakily. And on the words she
+tried to laugh, but only succeeded in partially smothering a sob.
+
+"Oh, I say!" said Lord Ronald. He got up awkwardly, and stood behind
+her. "Please don't take it to heart," he urged. "I shouldn't have told
+you, only--you know--you asked. And it wouldn't make any difference, on
+my honour it wouldn't. Won't you take my word for it, and give me a
+trial?"
+
+"No," she said.
+
+"Why not?" he persisted. "Don't you think you are rather hard on me? I
+shall never take a single inch more than you care to allow."
+
+She turned upon him suddenly. Her cheeks were burning and her eyes were
+wet, but she no longer cared about his seeing these details.
+
+"What did you mean?" she demanded unexpectedly, "by saying to me that
+those fight hardest who fight in vain?"
+
+He was not in the least disconcerted.
+
+"I meant that though you might send me about my business you would not
+quite manage to shake me off altogether."
+
+"Meaning that you would refuse to go?" she asked, with a quiver that
+might have been anger in her voice.
+
+"Meaning," he responded quietly, "that though you might deny me
+yourself, it might not be in your power to deny me the pleasure of
+serving you."
+
+"And is it not in my power?" she asked swiftly.
+
+He was looking at her very intently.
+
+"No," he said in his most deliberate drawl. "I don't think it is."
+
+"But it is," she asserted, meeting his look with blazing eyes. "You
+cannot possibly enter my service without my consent. And--and--I am not
+going to consent to that mad scheme of yours."
+
+"No?" he said.
+
+"No," she repeated with emphasis. "You yourself are the obstacle, as I
+said before. If--if you had not been in love with me, I might have
+considered it. But--now--it is out of the question. Moreover," her eyes
+shot suddenly downwards, as though to hide their fire, "I shall not want
+that sort of protector now."
+
+"No?" he said again, very softly this time. He was standing straight
+before her, still closely watching her with that in his eyes that he had
+never permitted there before.
+
+"No!" she repeated once more, and again brokenly she laughed; then
+suddenly raised her eyes to his, and gave him both her hands
+impetuously, confidingly, yet with a certain shyness notwithstanding.
+"I--I am going to marry again after all," she said, "if--if you will
+have me."
+
+"My dear," said Lord Ronald, very tenderly, "I always meant to!"
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                                 Her Hero
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE AMERICAN COUSIN
+
+
+"My dear child, it's absurd to be romantic over such a serious matter as
+marriage--the greatest mistake, I assure you. Nothing could be more
+suitable than an alliance with this very eligible young man. He plainly
+thinks so himself. If you are so unreasonable as to throw away this
+magnificent chance, I shall really feel inclined to give you up in
+despair."
+
+The soft, drawling accents fell with a gentle sigh through the perfumed
+silence of the speaker's boudoir. She was an elderly woman, beautiful,
+with that delicate, china-like beauty that never fades from youth to
+age. Not even Lady Raffold's enemies had ever disputed the fact of her
+beauty, not even her stepdaughter, firmly though she despised her.
+
+She sat behind the tea-table, this stepdaughter, dark and inscrutable, a
+grave, unresponsive listener. Her grey eyes never varied as Lady
+Raffold's protest came lispingly through the quiet room. She might have
+been turning over some altogether irrelevant problem at the back of her
+mind. It was this girl's way to hide herself behind a shield of apparent
+preoccupation when anything jarred upon her.
+
+"I need scarcely tell you what it would mean to your father," went on
+the soft voice. "Ever since poor Mortimer's death it has fretted him
+terribly to think that the estates must pass out of the direct line.
+Indeed, he hardly feels that the present heir belongs to the family at
+all. The American branch has always seemed so remote. But now that the
+young man is actually coming over to see his inheritance, it does seem
+such a Heaven-sent chance for you. You know, dear, it's your sixth
+season. You really ought to think seriously of getting settled. I am
+sure it would be a great weight off my mind to see you suitably married.
+And this young Cochrane is sure to take a reasonable view of the matter.
+Americans are so admirably practical. And, of course, if your father
+could leave all his money to the estates, as this marriage would enable
+him to do, it would be a very excellent arrangement for all concerned."
+
+The girl at the tea-table made a slight--a very slight--movement that
+scarcely amounted to a gesture of impatience. The gentle drone of her
+stepmother's voice was becoming monotonous. But she said nothing
+whatever, and her expression did not change.
+
+A faintly fretful note crept into Lady Raffold's tone when she spoke
+again.
+
+"You're so unreasonable, Priscilla. I really haven't a notion what you
+actually want. You might have been a duchess by this time, as all the
+world knows, if you had only been reasonable. How is it--why is it--that
+you are so hard to please?"
+
+Lady Priscilla raised her eyelids momentarily.
+
+"I don't think you would understand, Charlotte, if I were to tell you,"
+she said, in a voice of such deep music that it seemed incapable of
+bitterness.
+
+"Some ridiculous sentimentality, no doubt," said Lady Raffold.
+
+"I am sure you would call it so."
+
+A faint flush rose in the girl's dark face. She looked at her stepmother
+no longer, but began very quietly and steadily to make the tea.
+
+Lady Raffold waited a few seconds for her confidence, but she waited in
+vain. Lady Priscilla had retired completely behind her shield, and it
+was quite obvious that she had no intention of exposing herself any
+further to stray shots.
+
+Her stepmother was exasperated, but she found it difficult to say
+anything more upon the subject in face of this impenetrability. She
+could only solace herself with the reflection that the American cousin,
+who had become heir to the earldom and estates of Raffold, would almost
+certainly take a more common-sense view of the matter, and, if that were
+so, a little pressure from the girl's father, whom she idolised, would
+probably be sufficient to settle it according to her desires.
+
+It was so plainly Priscilla's duty to marry the young man. The whole
+thing seemed to be planned and cut out by Providence. And it was but
+natural that Ralph Cochrane should see it in the same light. For it was
+understood that he was not rich, and it would be greatly to his interest
+to marry Earl Raffold's only surviving child.
+
+So Lady Raffold reasoned to herself as Priscilla poured out the tea in
+serious silence, and she gradually soothed her own annoyance by the
+process.
+
+"Come," she said at length, breaking a long silence, "I should think
+Ralph Cochrane will be in England in ten days at the latest. We must not
+be too formal with him as he is a relation. Shall we ask him to luncheon
+on the Sunday after next?"
+
+Priscilla did not at once reply. When at length she looked up, it was
+with the air of one coming out of a reverie.
+
+"Oh, yes, if you like, Charlotte," she said, in her deep, quiet voice.
+"No doubt he will amuse you. I know you always enjoy Americans."
+
+"And you, my dear?" said Lady Raffold, with just a hint of sharpness in
+her tone.
+
+"I?" Again her stepdaughter paused a little, as if collecting her
+thoughts. "I shall not be here," she said finally. "I have decided to go
+down to Raffold for midsummer week, and I don't suppose I shall hurry
+back. It won't matter, will it? I often think that you entertain best
+alone. And I am so tired of London heat and dust."
+
+There was an unconscious note of wistfulness in the beautiful voice, but
+its dominant virtue was determination.
+
+Lady Raffold realised at once to her unspeakable indignation that
+protest was useless.
+
+"Really, Priscilla," was all she found to say, "I am amazed--yes,
+amazed--at your total lack of consideration."
+
+But Priscilla was quite unimpressed.
+
+"You won't have time to miss me," she said. "I don't think any one will,
+except, perhaps, Dad; and he always knows where to find me."
+
+"Your father will certainly not leave town before the end of the
+season," said Lady Raffold, raising her voice slightly.
+
+"Poor dear Dad!" murmured Priscilla.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE ROMANCE OF HER LIFE
+
+
+"And so I escaped. Her ladyship didn't like it, but it was worth a
+tussle."
+
+Priscilla leaned back luxuriously in the housekeeper's room at Raffold
+Abbey, and laughed upon a deep note of satisfaction. She had discarded
+all things fashionable with her departure from London in the height of
+the season. The crumpled linen hat she wore was designed for comfort and
+not for elegance. Her gown of brown holland was simplicity itself. She
+sat carelessly with her arm round the neck of an immense mastiff who had
+followed her in.
+
+"I've cut everything, Froggy," she declared, "including the terrible
+American cousin. In fact, it was almost more on his account than any
+other that I did it. For I can't and won't marry him, not even for the
+sake of the dear old Abbey! Are you very shocked, I wonder?"
+
+Froggy the housekeeper--so named by young Lord Mortimer in his schoolboy
+days--looked up from her work and across at Priscilla, her brown,
+prominent eyes, to which she owed her _sobriquet_, shining lovingly
+behind her spectacles. Her real name was Mrs. Burrowes, but Priscilla
+could not remember a time when she had ever called her anything but
+Froggy. The old familiar name had become doubly dear to both of them now
+that Mortimer was dead.
+
+"I should be very shocked, indeed, darling, if it were otherwise," was
+Froggy's answer.
+
+And Priscilla breathed a long sigh of contentment. She knew that there
+was no need to explain herself to this, her oldest friend.
+
+She laid her cheek comfortably against the great dog's ear.
+
+"No, Romeo," she murmured. "Your missis isn't going to be thrown at any
+man's head if she knows it. But it's a difficult world, old boy; almost
+an impossible world, I sometimes think. Froggy, I know you can be
+sentimental when you try. What should you do if you fell in love with a
+total stranger without ever knowing his name? Should you have the
+fidelity to live in single blessedness all your life for the sake of
+your hero?"
+
+Froggy looked a little startled at the question, lightly as it was put.
+She felt that it was scarcely a problem that could be settled offhand.
+And yet something in Priscilla's manner seemed to indicate that she
+wanted a prompt reply.
+
+"It is a little difficult to say, dear," she said, after brief
+reflection. "I can understand that one might be strongly attracted
+towards a stranger, but I should think it scarcely possible that one
+could go so far as to fall in love."
+
+Priscilla uttered a faint, rueful laugh.
+
+"Perhaps you couldn't, Froggy," she admitted. "But you know there is
+such a thing as loving at first sight. Some people go so far as to say
+that all true love begins that way."
+
+She rose quietly and went to her friend's side.
+
+"Oh, Froggy, it's very difficult to be true to your inner self when you
+stand quite alone," she said, "and every one else is thinking what a
+fool you are!" The words had an unwonted ring of passion in them, and,
+having uttered them, she knelt down by Froggy's side, and hid her face
+against the ample shoulder. "And I sometimes think I'm a fool myself,"
+she ended, in muffled accents.
+
+Froggy's arms closed instantly and protectingly around her.
+
+"My darling, who is it, then?" whispered her motherly voice.
+
+Priscilla did not at once reply. It was a difficult confidence to make.
+At last, haltingly, words came:
+
+"It was years ago--that summer we went to New York, Dad and I. He was
+from the South, so I heard afterwards. He stayed at the same hotel with
+us, one of those quiet, unobtrusive, big men--not big physically,
+but--you understand. I might not have noticed him--I don't know--but one
+day a man in the street threw down a flaming match just as I was coming
+out of the hotel. I had on a muslin dress, and it caught fire. Of
+course, it blazed in a moment, and I was terrified. Dad wasn't there.
+But the man was in the balcony just overhead, and he swung himself down,
+I never saw how, and caught me in his arms. He had nothing to put it out
+with. He simply threw me down and flung himself on the top, beating out
+the flames in all directions with his hands. I was dreadfully upset, of
+course, but I wasn't much hurt. He was--horribly. One of his hands was
+all charred.
+
+"He carried me back into the hotel and told me not to be frightened. And
+he stayed with me till I felt better, because somehow I wanted him to.
+He was so strong, Froggy, and so kind. He had a voice like a woman's.
+I've thought since that he must have thought me very foolish and
+uncontrolled. But he seemed to understand just how I felt. And--do you
+know--I never saw him again! He went right away that very afternoon, and
+we never found out who he was. And I never thanked him even for saving
+my life. I don't think he wanted to be thanked.
+
+"But I have never forgotten him. He was the sort of man you never could
+forget. I've never seen any one in the least like him. He was somehow so
+much greater than all the other men I know. Am I a fool, Froggy? I
+suppose I am. They say every woman will meet her mate if she waits long
+enough, but it can't be true. I suppose I might as well marry the Yankee
+heir, only I can't--I can't!"
+
+The low voice ceased, and there fell a silence. Froggy's arms were
+folded very closely about the kneeling girl, but she had no words of
+comfort or counsel to offer. She was, in fact, out of her depth, though
+not for worlds would she have had Priscilla know it.
+
+"You must just follow your own heart, dearest," she said at last. "And I
+think you will find happiness some day. God grant it!"
+
+Priscilla lifted her head and kissed her. She knew quite well that she
+had led whither Froggy could not follow. But the knowledge did not hurt
+her.
+
+She called Romeo, and went out into the summer sunshine, with a smile
+half tender and half humorous at the corners of her mouth. Poor Froggy!
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE PICNIC IN THE GLEN
+
+
+"I think we will go for a picnic, Romeo," said Priscilla.
+
+It was a Saturday afternoon, warm and slumbrous, and Saturday was the
+day on which Raffold Abbey was open to the public when the family were
+away. Priscilla's presence was, as it were, unofficial, but though she
+was quite content to have it so, she was determined to escape from sight
+and hearing of the hot and dusty crowd that thronged the place on a fine
+day from three o'clock till six.
+
+Half a mile or more from the Abbey, a brown stream ran gurgling through
+a miniature glen, to join the river below the park gates. This stream
+had been Priscilla's great delight for longer than she could remember.
+As children, she and her brother Mortimer had spent hours upon its mossy
+banks, and since those days she had dreamed many dreams, aye, and shed
+many tears, within sound of its rushing waters. She loved the place. It
+was her haven of solitude. No one ever disturbed her there.
+
+The walk across the park made them both hot, and it was a relief to sit
+down on her favourite tree-root above the stream and yield herself to
+the luxury of summer idleness. A robin was chirping far overhead, and
+from the grass at her feet there came the whir of a grasshopper.
+Otherwise, save for the music of the stream, all was still. An
+exquisite, filmy drowsiness crept over her, and she slept.
+
+A deep growl from her bodyguard roused her nearly an hour later, and she
+awoke with a start.
+
+Romeo was sitting very upright, watching something on the farther side
+of the stream. He growled again as Priscilla sat up.
+
+She looked across in the same direction, and laid a hasty hand upon his
+collar.
+
+What she saw surprised her considerably. A man was lying face downwards
+on the brink of the stream, fishing about in the water, with one arm
+bared to the shoulder. He must have heard Romeo's warning growl, but he
+paid not the slightest attention to it. Priscilla watched him with keen
+interest. She could not see his face.
+
+Suddenly he clutched at something in the clear water, and immediately
+straightened himself, withdrawing his arm. Then, quite calmly, he looked
+across at her, and spoke in a peculiar, soft drawl like a woman's.
+
+"You'll forgive me for disturbing you, I know," he said, "when I tell
+you that all my worldly goods were at the bottom of this ditch."
+
+He displayed his recovered property as if to verify his words--a brown
+leather pocketbook with a silver clasp. Priscilla gazed from it to its
+owner in startled silence. Her heart was beating almost to suffocation.
+She knew this man.
+
+The water babbled on between them, singing a little tinkling song all
+its own. But the girl neither saw nor heard aught of her surroundings.
+She was back in the heat and whirl of a crowded New York thoroughfare,
+back in the fierce grip of this man's arms, hearing his quiet voice
+above her head, bidding her not to be frightened.
+
+Gradually the vision passed. The wild tumult at her heart died down. She
+became aware that he was waiting for her to speak, and she did so as one
+in a dream.
+
+"I am glad you got it back," she said.
+
+His brown, clean-shaven face smiled at her, but there was no hint of
+recognition in his eyes. He had totally forgotten her, of course, as she
+had always told herself he would. Did not men always forget? And
+yet--and yet--was he not still her hero--the man for whose sake all
+other men were less than naught to her?
+
+Again Romeo growled deeply, and she tightened her hold upon him. The
+stranger, however, appeared quite unimpressed. He stood up and
+contemplated the stream that divided them with a measuring eye.
+
+"Have I your permission to come across?" he asked her finally, in his
+soft Southern drawl.
+
+She laughed a little nervously. He was not without audacity,
+notwithstanding his quiet manner.
+
+"You can cross if you like," she said. "But it's all private property."
+
+He paused, looking at her intently.
+
+"It belongs to Earl Raffold, I have been told?"
+
+She bent her head, and her answer leapt out with an ease that astonished
+her. She felt it to be an inspiration.
+
+"It does. But the family are in town for the season. I am staying with
+the housekeeper. She is allowed to have her friends when the family are
+away."
+
+It was rather breathlessly spoken, but he did not seem to notice.
+
+"I see," he said. "Then one more or less can't make much difference."
+
+With the words he took a single stride forward and bounded into the air.
+He landed lightly almost at her feet, and Romeo sprang up with an
+outraged snarl. It choked in his throat almost instantly, however, for
+the stranger laid a restraining hand upon him, and spoke with soothing
+self-assurance.
+
+"It's an evil brute that kills a friend, eh, old fellow? You couldn't do
+it if you tried."
+
+Romeo's countenance changed magically. He turned his hostility into an
+ardent welcome, and the girl at his side laughed again rather
+tremulously.
+
+"It's a good thing you weren't afraid. I couldn't have held him."
+
+"I saw that," said the Southerner, speaking softly, his face on a level
+with the great head he was caressing. "But I knew it would be all right.
+You see, I--kind of like dogs."
+
+He turned to her after a moment, a faintly quizzical expression about
+his eyes.
+
+"I won't intrude upon you," he said. "I can go and trespass elsewhere,
+you know."
+
+Priscilla was not as a rule reckless. A long training in her
+stepmother's school had made her cautious and far-seeing in all things
+social. She knew exactly the risk that lay in unconventionality. But,
+then, had she not fled from town to lead a free life? Why should she
+submit to the old, galling chain here in this golden world where its
+restraint was not known? Her whole being rose up in revolt at the bare
+idea, and suddenly, passionately, she decided to break free. Even the
+flowers had their day of riotous, splendid life. She would have hers,
+wherever its enjoyment might lead her, whatever it might cost!
+
+And so she answered him with a lack of reserve at which her London
+friends would have marvelled.
+
+"You don't intrude at all. If you have come to see the Abbey, I should
+advise you to wait till after six o'clock."
+
+"When it will be closed to the public?" he questioned, still looking
+quizzical.
+
+She looked up at him, for the first time deliberately meeting his eyes.
+Yes it was plain that he did not know her; but on the whole she was
+glad, it made things easier. She had been so foolish and hysterical upon
+that far-off day when he had saved her life.
+
+"I will take you over it myself, if you care to accept my guidance," she
+said, "after the crowd have gone."
+
+He glanced at his watch.
+
+"And you are prepared to tolerate my society till six?" he said. "That
+is very generous of you."
+
+She smiled, with a touch of wistfulness.
+
+"Perhaps I don't find my own very inspiring."
+
+He raised his eyebrows, but made no comment.
+
+"Perhaps I had better tell you my name," he said, after a pause. "I am
+in a fashion connected with this place--a sort of friend of the family,
+if it isn't presumption to put it that way. My name is Julian Carfax,
+and Ralph Cochrane, the next-of-kin, is a pal of mine, a very great pal.
+He was coming over to England. Perhaps you heard. But he's a very shy
+fellow, and almost at the last moment he decided not to face it at
+present. I was coming over, so I undertook to explain. I spoke to Lady
+Raffold in town over the telephone, and told her. She seemed to be
+rather affronted, for some reason. Possibly it was my fault. I'm not
+much of a diplomatist, anyway."
+
+He seated himself on a mossy stone below her with this reflection, and
+began to cast pebbles into the brown water.
+
+Priscilla watched him gravely. What he had told her interested her
+considerably, but she had no intention of giving herself away by
+betraying it.
+
+There was a decided pause before she made up her mind how to pursue the
+subject.
+
+"I had no idea that an American could be shy," she said then.
+
+Carfax turned with his pleasant smile.
+
+"No? We're a pushing race, I suppose. But I think Cochrane had some
+excuse for his timidity this time."
+
+"Yes?" said Priscilla.
+
+He began to laugh quietly.
+
+"You see, it turned out that he was expected to marry the old maid of
+the family--Lady Priscilla. Naturally he kicked at that."
+
+Priscilla bent sharply over Romeo, and began to examine one of his huge
+paws. Her face was a vivid scarlet.
+
+"It wasn't surprising, was it?" said Carfax, tossing another pebble into
+the stream. "It was more than enough, in my opinion, to make any fellow
+feel shy."
+
+Priscilla did not answer. The colour was slow to fade from her face.
+
+"I wonder if you have ever seen the lady?" Carfax pursued. "She was out
+of town when I was there."
+
+"Yes; I have seen her."
+
+Priscilla spoke with her head bent.
+
+"You have? What is she like?"
+
+He glanced round with an expression of amused interest. Priscilla looked
+up deliberately.
+
+"She is quite old and ugly. But I don't think Mr. Ralph Cochrane need be
+afraid. She doesn't like men. I am rather sorry for her myself."
+
+"Sorry for her? Why?"
+
+Carfax became serious.
+
+"I think she is rather lonely," the girl said, in a low voice.
+
+"You know her well?"
+
+"Can any one say that they really know any one? No. But I think that she
+feels very deeply, and that her life has always been more or less of a
+failure. At least, that is the sort of feeling I have about her."
+
+Again, but more gradually, the colour rose in her face. She took up her
+basket, and began to unpack it.
+
+Carfax turned fully round.
+
+"You go in for character-study," he said.
+
+"A little," she owned. "I can't help it. Now let me give you some tea. I
+have enough for two."
+
+"I shall be delighted," he said courteously. "Let me help you to
+unpack."
+
+Priscilla could never recall afterwards how they spent the golden hours
+till six o'clock. She was as one in a dream, to which she clung closely,
+passionately, fearing to awake. For in her dream she was standing on the
+threshold of her paradise, waiting for the opening of the gates.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+ON THE THRESHOLD
+
+
+Raffold Abbey was huge and rambling, girt with many memories. They spent
+nearly two hours wandering through the house and the old, crumbling
+chapel.
+
+"There is a crypt below," Priscilla said, "but we can't go down without
+a lantern. Another day, if you cared----"
+
+"Of course I should, above all things," declared Carfax. "I was just
+going to ask when I might come again."
+
+Their intimacy had progressed wonderfully during those hours of
+companionship. The total absence of conventionality had destroyed all
+strangeness between them. They were as children on a holiday, enjoying
+the present to the full, and wholly careless of the future.
+
+Not till Carfax had at length taken his leave did Priscilla ask herself
+what had brought him there. Merely to view his friend's inheritance
+seemed a paltry reason. Perhaps he was a journalist, or a writer of
+guide-books. But she soon dismissed the matter, to ask herself a more
+personal question. Was it possible that he knew her? Had he found out
+her name after the New York episode, and come at last to seek her? She
+could not honestly believe this, though her heart leapt at the thought.
+That affair had taken place four long years before. Of course, he had
+forgotten it. It could have made no more than a passing impression upon
+him. Had it been otherwise, would he not have claimed her at once as an
+old acquaintance?
+
+Yes, it was plain that her first conviction must be correct. He did not
+know her. The whole incident had passed completely from his memory,
+crowded out, no doubt, and that speedily, by more absorbing interests.
+She had flashed across his life, attaining to no more importance than a
+bird upon the wing. He had saved her life at a frightful risk, and then
+forgotten her very existence. She had always realised it must be so,
+but, strangely, she had never resented it. In spite of it, with a
+woman's queer, inexplicable faithfulness, she yet loved her hero, yet
+cherished closely, fondly, the memory that she doubted not had faded
+utterly from his mind.
+
+She went to the village church with Froggy on the following day, though
+fully alive to the risk she ran of being pointed out to the ignorant as
+Lady Priscilla from the Abbey. She knew by some deep-hidden instinct
+that he would be there, and she was not disappointed. He came in late,
+and stood quite still just inside the little building, searching it up
+and down with keen, quiet eyes that never faltered in their progress
+till they lighted upon her. She fancied there was a faintly humorous
+expression about his mouth. His look did not dwell upon her. He stepped
+aside to a vacant chair close to the door, and Priscilla, in her great,
+square pew near the pulpit, saw him no more. When she left the church at
+the end of the service he had already disappeared.
+
+Froggy went out to tea that afternoon with much solicitous regret, which
+Priscilla treated in a spirit of levity. She packed her tea-basket again
+as soon as she was alone, selecting her provisions with care. And soon
+after three, accompanied by Romeo, she started for the glen, not
+sauntering idly, but stepping briskly through the golden sunshine, as
+one with a purpose. She felt as if she were going to a trysting-place,
+though no word of a tryst had passed between them.
+
+He was there before her, bareheaded and alert, quite obviously awaiting
+her. He did not express his pleasure in words as he took her hand in
+his. Only there was an indescribable look in his brown eyes that made
+her very glad that she had come. He had brought an enormous basket of
+strawberries, which he presented with that drawling ease of manner which
+she had come to regard as peculiarly his own, and they settled down to
+the afternoon's enjoyment in a harmony as complete as the summer peace
+about them.
+
+No spoken confidences passed between them. Their intimacy was such as to
+make words seem superfluous. Both seemed to feel that the present was
+all-sufficing.
+
+Only once did Priscilla challenge Carfax's memory. The impulse was
+irresistible at the moment, though she regretted it later. He was
+holding out to her the biggest strawberry he could find. It lay on a
+leaf on the palm of his hand, and as she took it she suddenly saw a
+long, terrible scar extending upwards from his wrist till his sleeve hid
+it from view.
+
+"Why," she exclaimed, with a start; then, seeing his questioning look,
+"surely that's a burn?"
+
+"It is," said Carfax.
+
+He turned his hand over to hide it. His manner seemed to indicate that
+he did not wish to pursue the subject. But Priscilla, suddenly reckless,
+ignored the hint.
+
+"But how did you do it?" she asked.
+
+Carfax hesitated for a second, then:
+
+"It was years ago," he said, rather unwillingly. "A lady's dress caught
+fire. It fell to me to put it out."
+
+"How brave!" murmured Priscilla. Her eyes were shining. Had he looked up
+then he must have read her secret.
+
+But he did not look up. For the first time he seemed to be labouring
+under some spell of embarrassment.
+
+"It wasn't brave at all," he said, after a moment. "I could have done no
+less."
+
+There was almost a vexed note in his voice. Yet she persisted.
+
+"What was she like? Wasn't she very grateful?"
+
+"I don't know at all. I don't suppose she enjoyed the situation any more
+than I did."
+
+He plucked a tuft of moss and tossed it from him, as if therewith
+dismissing the subject. And Priscilla felt a little hurt, though not for
+worlds would she have suffered him to see it.
+
+It fell to him to break the silence a few seconds later, and he did so
+without a hint of difficulty.
+
+"When am I going to see the crypt?"
+
+Priscilla laughed a little.
+
+"Are you writing a book about the place?"
+
+He laughed back at her quite openly.
+
+"Not at present. When I do, it will be a romance, with you for heroine."
+
+"Oh, no; not me!" she protested. "I am a mere nobody. Lady Priscilla
+ought to be your heroine."
+
+He raised his eyebrows. She had begun to associate that look of his with
+protest rather than surprise.
+
+"I have yet to be introduced to Lady Priscilla," he said. "And as she
+doesn't like men, I almost think I shall forego the pleasure and keep
+out of her way."
+
+"Perhaps I have given you a wrong impression about her," Priscilla said,
+speaking with a slight effort. "It is only the idle, foppish men about
+town she has no use for."
+
+"She is fastidious, apparently," he returned, lying down abruptly at her
+feet.
+
+"Don't you like women to be fastidious?" Priscilla demanded boldly.
+
+He lay quite motionless for several seconds, then turned in a leisurely
+fashion upon his side to survey her.
+
+"You are fastidious?" he asked.
+
+"Of course I am!" Priscilla's words came rather breathlessly. "Don't you
+think me so?"
+
+Again he was silent for seconds. Then, in a baffling drawl, his answer
+came:
+
+"If you will allow me to say so, I think you are just the sweetest woman
+I ever met."
+
+Priscilla met his eyes for a single instant, and looked away. She was
+burning and throbbing from head to foot. She could find naught to say in
+answer; no word wherewith to turn his deliberate sentence into a jest.
+Perhaps in her secret heart she did not desire to do so, for a voice
+within her, a voice long stifled, cried out that she had met her mate.
+And, since surrender was inevitable, why should she seek to delay it?
+
+But Carfax said no more. Possibly he thought he had said too much. At
+least, after a long, quiet pause, he looked away from her; and the spell
+that bound her passed.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THE OPENING GATES
+
+
+That evening Priscilla found a letter from her stepmother awaiting
+her--a briefly worded, urgent summons.
+
+"Your cousin has not arrived, after all," it said. "Your father and I
+are greatly disappointed. Would it not be as well for you to return to
+town? You can scarcely, I fear, afford to waste your time in this
+fashion. Young Lord Harfield was asking for you most solicitously only
+yesterday. Such a charming man, I have always thought!"
+
+"That--chicken!" said Priscilla, and tossed her letter aside.
+
+Later, she went up to the top of the Abbey, and out on to a part of the
+roof that had been battlemented, to dream her dream again under the
+stars and to view her paradise yet more closely from before the opening
+gates.
+
+It was very late when she returned lightfooted to Froggy's sitting-room,
+and, kneeling by her friend's side, interposed her dark head between the
+kind, bulging eyes and the open Bible that lay upon the table.
+
+"Froggy," she whispered softly, "I'm so happy, dear--so happy!"
+
+And so kneeling, she told Froggy in short, halting sentences of the
+sudden splendour that had glorified her life.
+
+Froggy was greatly astonished, and even startled. She was also anxious,
+and showed it. But Priscilla hastened to smooth this away.
+
+"Yes, I know it's sudden. But sometimes, you know, love is like that.
+Don't be anxious, Froggy. I am much more cautious--but what a ridiculous
+word!--than you think. He doesn't know who I am yet. I pretended to him
+that I was a relation of yours. And he isn't to know at present. You
+will keep that in mind, won't you? And in a day or two I shall bring him
+in here to tea, and you will be able to judge of him for yourself. No,
+dear, no; of course he hasn't spoken. It is much too soon. You forget
+that though I have known him so long, he has only known me for two days.
+Oh, Froggy, isn't it wonderful to think of--that he should have come at
+last like this? It is almost as if--as if my love had drawn him."
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+WITHIN HER PARADISE
+
+
+Priscilla's reply to her stepmother's summons, written several days
+later, was a highly unsatisfactory epistle indeed, in the opinion of its
+recipient. She found it quite impossible to tear herself away from the
+country while the fine weather lasted, she wrote. She was enjoying
+herself immensely, and did not feel that she could ever endure the whole
+of a London season in one dose again.
+
+It was not a well-thought-out letter, being written in a haste that made
+itself obvious between the lines. Carfax had hired a motor-car, and was
+waiting for her. They went miles that day, and when they stopped at last
+they were in a country that she scarcely knew--a country of barren downs
+and great sunlit spaces, lonely, immense.
+
+"This is the place," said Carfax quietly, as he helped her to alight.
+
+Priscilla walked a few paces and stood still. She knew exactly why he
+had chosen it. Her heart was beating wildly. It seemed to dominate all
+her other faculties. She felt it to be almost more than she could bear.
+
+Those moments of unacknowledged waiting were terrible to her. She knew
+she had taken an irrevocable step, and her free instinct clamoured
+loudly against it. It amounted almost to a panic within her.
+
+There came a quiet step on the turf behind her. She did not turn, but
+the suspense became suddenly unendurable. With a convulsive movement,
+she made as if she would go on. At the same instant an arm encircled
+her, checked her, held her closely.
+
+"So, sweetheart!" said Julian Carfax, his voice soothing, womanly, but
+possessing withal a note of vitality, of purpose, that she had never
+heard in it before.
+
+She suffered his hold with a faint but desperate cry.
+
+"You don't know me," she said, with a gasping effort. "You don't--" The
+words failed. He was pressing her to him ever more closely, and she felt
+his fingers gently fumbling at her veil. With a sudden passionate
+movement she put up both hands, and threw it back.
+
+"There!" she said, with a sound, half laugh, half sob, and turned
+herself wholly to him.
+
+The next instant, as his lips pressed hers, all the anguish of doubt
+that had come upon her was gone like an evil spirit from her soul. She
+knew only that they stood alone together in a vast space that was filled
+to the brim with the noonday sunshine. All her heart was flooded with
+rejoicing. The gates had opened wide for her, and she had entered in.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+BACK TO EARTH
+
+
+Priscilla never quite realised afterwards how it was that the whole of
+that long summer day slipped by and her confession remained still
+unspoken. She did make one or two attempts to lead round to the subject,
+but each seemed to be foredoomed to failure, and at last she abandoned
+the idea--for that day, at least. It seemed, after all, but a paltry
+thing in face of her great happiness.
+
+They sped homeward at length in the light of a cloudless sunset,
+smoothly and swiftly as if they swooped through air.
+
+"I will take you to the edge of the park," Carfax said; and when they
+reached it he took her in his arms, holding her fast, as if he could not
+bear to let her go.
+
+They parted at last almost in silence, but with the tacit understanding
+that they would meet in the glen on the following day.
+
+Priscilla walked home through the lengthening shadows with a sense of
+wonderment and unreality at her heart. He had asked for no pledge, yet
+she knew that the bond between them was such as might stretch to the
+world's end and never break. They belonged to each other irrevocably
+now, whatever might intervene.
+
+She reached the Abbey, walking as in a maze of happiness, with no
+thought for material things.
+
+Romeo came to greet her with effusion, and an air of having something to
+tell her. She fondled him, and went on with him into the house. They
+entered by a conservatory, and so through the shrouded drawing-room into
+the great hall.
+
+The girl's eyes were dazzled by the sudden gloom she found there. She
+expected to meet no one, and so it was with a violent start that she saw
+a man's figure detach itself from the shadows and come towards her.
+
+"Who is it?" she asked sharply; and then in astonishment: "Why, Dad!"
+
+Her father's voice answered her, but not with the gruff kindliness to
+which she was accustomed. It came to her grim and stern, and she knew
+instinctively that he hated the errand that had brought him.
+
+"I have come down to fetch you," he said. "I do not approve of your
+being here alone. It is unusual and quite unnecessary. You are quite
+well?"
+
+"Yes, I am well," Priscilla said. "But why should you object to my being
+here?"
+
+She stood still, facing him. She knew who had inspired this
+interference, and from the bottom of her soul she resented it. Her
+father did not answer. Thinking it over calmly later, she knew that he
+was ashamed.
+
+"Be ready to start from here in half an hour," he said. "We shall catch
+the nine-thirty."
+
+Priscilla made no further protest. Her father had never addressed that
+tone to her before, and it cut her to the heart.
+
+"Very well," she said; and turned to go.
+
+Her deep voice held no anger, and only Romeo, pressed close against her,
+knew that the hand that had just caressed him was clenched and
+quivering.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+HER SIMPLE DUTY
+
+
+Priscilla left a hastily scribbled note for Carfax in Froggy's keeping.
+In it she explained that she was obliged to go to town, but that she
+would meet him there any day before noon at any place that he would
+appoint. Froggy was to be the medium of his communication also.
+
+She made no mention of Carfax to her father. He had hurt her far too
+deeply for any confidence to be possible. Moreover, it seemed to her
+that she had no right to speak until Carfax himself gave her leave.
+
+She did not see her stepmother till the following day. The greeting
+between them was of the coolest, though Lady Raffold, being triumphant,
+sought to infuse a little sentiment into hers.
+
+"I am really worn out, Priscilla," she said. "It is my turn now to have
+a little rest. I am going to leave all the hard work to you. It will be
+such a relief."
+
+Three days later, however, she relinquished this attitude. Priscilla was
+summoned to her room, where she was breakfasting, and found her in great
+excitement.
+
+"My dear child, he has arrived. He has actually arrived, and is staying
+at the Ritz. He must come and dine with us to-morrow night. It will be
+quite an informal affair--only thirty--so it can easily be managed. He
+must take you in, Priscilla; and, oh, my dear, do remember that it is
+the great opportunity of your life, and it mustn't be thrown away,
+whatever happens! Your father has set his heart upon it."
+
+"Are you talking about Mr. Cochrane?" asked Priscilla.
+
+"To be sure. Who else? Now don't put on that far-away look, pray! You
+know what is, after all, your simple duty, and I trust you mean to do
+it. You can't be going to disappoint your father in this matter. And you
+really must marry soon Priscilla. It is getting serious. In fact, it
+worries me perpetually. By the way, here is a letter for you from
+Raffold. It must have got among mine by mistake. Mrs. Burrowes's
+handwriting, I imagine."
+
+She was right. It was directed by Froggy, but Priscilla paled suddenly
+as she took it, realising that it contained an answer to her own urgent
+note.
+
+Alone in her own room she opened it. The message was even briefer than
+hers had been: "Sweetheart,--At 11 A.M., on Thursday, under the
+dome of St. Paul's Cathedral.--I am thine, J. C."
+
+Priscilla stood for long seconds with the note in her hand. It had
+reached her too late. The appointment had been for the day before. She
+turned to the envelope, and saw that it must have been lying among her
+stepmother's correspondence for two days. Doubtless he had waited for
+her at the trysting-place, and waited in vain.
+
+Only one thing remained to be done, and that was to telegraph to Froggy
+for Carfax's address. But Froggy's answer, when it came, was only
+another disappointment:
+
+"Address not known. Did you not receive letter I forwarded?"
+
+Reluctantly Priscilla realised that there was nothing for it but
+patience. Carfax would almost certainly write again through Froggy.
+
+That he had not her address she knew, for Froggy was under a solemn vow
+to reveal nothing, but she would not believe that he would regard her
+failure to keep tryst as a deliberate effort to snub him, though the
+fear that he might do so haunted and grew upon her all through the day.
+
+She went to a theatre that night, and later to a dance, but neither
+entertainment served to lift the deadening weight from her spirits. She
+was miserable, and the four hours she subsequently spent in bed brought
+her no relief.
+
+She rose at last in sheer desperation, and went for an early ride in the
+Park. She met a few acquaintances, but she shook them off. She wanted to
+be alone.
+
+When she was returning, however, her youthful admirer, Lord Harfield,
+attached himself to her, refusing to be discouraged.
+
+"I met your cousin at the Club yesterday," he told her.
+
+"What is he like?" Priscilla asked, without much interest.
+
+"Oh, haven't you seen him yet? A very queer fish, with a twang you could
+cut with a knife. Don't think you'll like him," said Lord Harfield, who
+was jealous of every man who so much as bowed to Priscilla.
+
+Priscilla smiled faintly.
+
+"I don't think so, either," she said. "You are coming to dine with us
+to-night, aren't you? He will be there too."
+
+"Will he? I say, what a bore for you! Yes, I'm coming. I'll do my best
+to help you," the boy assured her eagerly.
+
+And again Priscilla smiled. She was quite sure that she would be bored,
+whatever happened, though she was too kind-hearted to say so.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+THE COMING OF HER HERO
+
+
+"I wonder why Priscilla has put on that severely plain attire? It makes
+her look almost ugly," sighed Lady Raffold. "And how dreadfully pale she
+is to-night! Really, I have never seen her look more unattractive."
+
+She turned with her most dazzling smile to receive the American
+Ambassador, and no one could have guessed that under her smile was real
+anger, because her stepdaughter was gracing the occasion in a robe of
+sombre black.
+
+All the guests had arrived with the exception of Ralph Cochrane, the
+heir-apparent, as Priscilla styled him, and Lady Raffold chatted with
+one eye on the door. It was too bad of the young man to be late.
+
+She was just giving him up in despair, and preparing to proceed to the
+dining-room without him, when his name was announced. Lord Raffold went
+forward to meet him. Priscilla, sitting on a lounge with Lord Harfield's
+mother, caught the sound of a soft, leisurely voice apologising; and
+something tightened suddenly at her heart, and held its beating. It was
+a voice she knew.
+
+As through a mist, she looked across the great room, with its many
+lights, its buzz of careless voices. And suddenly, it seemed to her, she
+was back in the little village church at Raffold, furtively watching a
+stranger who stood in the entrance, and searched with level scrutiny
+quite deliberately and frankly till he found her.
+
+Their eyes met, and her heart thrilled responsively as an instrument
+thrills to the hand of a skilled player.
+
+Almost involuntarily she rose. There was some mistake. She knew there
+must be some mistake. She felt that in some fashion it rested with her
+to explain and to justify his presence there.
+
+But in that instant his eyes left her, and the magnetism that compelled
+her died swiftly down. She saw him shake hands with Lady Raffold, and
+bow to the Ambassador.
+
+Then came her stepmother's quick, beckoning glance, and she moved
+forward in response to it. She was quivering from head to foot,
+bewildered, in some subtle fashion afraid.
+
+"My dear, your cousin. He will take you in. Ralph, this is Priscilla."
+
+It was sublimely informal. Lady Raffold had rehearsed that introduction
+several times. It was half the battle that the young man should feel
+himself one of the family from the outset.
+
+Priscilla grabbed at her self-control, and managed to bow. But the next
+instant his hand, strong, warm, reassuring, grasped hers.
+
+"Curious, isn't it?" the quiet voice asked. "We can't be strangers, you
+and I."
+
+The grip of his fingers was close and intimate. It was as if he appealed
+for her support.
+
+With an effort she forced herself to respond:
+
+"Of course not. It must be quite five years since our first meeting."
+
+He looked at her oddly, quizzically, as he offered his arm.
+
+"Why, yes," he drawled, as they began to move towards the door. "Should
+auld acquaintance be forgot? It is exactly five years ago to-day."
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE STORY OF A FRAUD
+
+
+"Funny, wasn't it, sweetheart?"
+
+The soft voice reached her through a buzz of other louder voices.
+Priscilla moved slightly, but she did not turn her head.
+
+"You will have to explain," she said. "I don't understand anything yet."
+
+"Nor I," came the quiet retort. "It's the woman's privilege to explain
+first, isn't it?"
+
+Against her will, the blood rose in her face. She threw him a quick
+glance.
+
+"I can't possibly explain anything here," she said.
+
+He met her look with steady eyes.
+
+"Let me tell you the story of a fraud," he said; and proceeded without
+further preliminary. "There was once a man--a second son, without
+prospects and without fame--who had the good fortune to do a service to
+a woman. He went away immediately afterwards lest he should make a fool
+of himself, for she was miles above his head, anyway. But he never
+forgot her. The mischief was done, so far as he was concerned."
+
+He broke off, and raised his champagne to his lips as if he drank to a
+memory.
+
+Priscilla was listening, but her eyes were downcast. She wore the old,
+absent look that her stepmother always deprecated. The soft drawl at her
+side continued, every syllable distinct and measured.
+
+"Years passed, and things changed. The man had belonged to a cadet
+branch of an aristocratic British family. But one heir after another
+died, till only he was left to inherit. The woman belonged to the older
+branch of the family, but, being a woman, she was passed over. A time
+came when he was invited by the head of the house to go and see his
+inheritance. He would have gone at once and gladly, but for a hint at
+the end of the letter to the effect that, if he would do his part, what
+the French shamelessly call a _mariage de convenance_ might be arranged
+between his cousin and himself--an arrangement advantageous to them both
+from a certain point of view. He didn't set up for a paragon of
+morality. Perhaps even, had things been a little different, he might
+have been willing. As it was, he didn't like the notion, and he jibbed."
+He paused. "But for all that," he said, his voice yet quieter and more
+deliberate, "he wanted the woman, if he could make her care for him.
+That was his difficulty. He had a feeling all along that the thing must
+be an even greater offence to her than it was to him. He worried it all
+through, and at last he worked out a scheme for them both. He called
+himself by an old school _alias_, and came to her as a stranger----
+
+"You're not eating anything, sweetheart. Wouldn't it be as well, just
+for decency's sake? There's a comic ending to this story, so you mustn't
+be sad. Who's that boy scowling at me on the other side of the table?
+What's the matter with the child?"
+
+"Never mind," murmured Priscilla hastily. "He doesn't mean anything.
+Please go on."
+
+He began to laugh at her with gentle ridicule.
+
+"Impatient for the third act? Well, the scheme worked all right. But
+it so chanced that the woman decided to be subtle, too. She knew him
+for an old friend the instant she saw him. But he pretended to have
+forgotten that old affair in New York. He didn't want her to feel in
+any way under an obligation. So he played the humble stranger, and
+she--sweetheart--she played the simple, country maiden, and she did it
+to perfection. I think, you know, that she was a little afraid her name
+and title would frighten him away."
+
+"And so he humoured her?" said Priscilla, a slight quiver in her deep
+voice.
+
+"They humoured each other, sweetheart. That was where it began to be
+funny. Now I am going to get you to tell me the rest of the story."
+
+She turned towards him again, her face very pale.
+
+"Yes; it's very funny, no doubt--funny for the man, I mean; for the
+woman, I am not so sure. How does she know that he really cared for her
+from the beginning; that he was always quite honest in his motive? How
+can she possibly know this?"
+
+Again for a moment their eyes met. There was no hint of dismay in the
+man's brown face.
+
+"She does know it, sweetheart," he answered, with confidence. "I can't
+tell you how. Probably she couldn't, either. He was going to explain
+everything, you know, under the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. But for
+some reason it didn't come off. He spent three solid hours waiting for
+her, but she didn't come. She had found him out, perhaps? And was
+angry?"
+
+"Perhaps," said Priscilla, her voice very low.
+
+Again he raised his glass to his lips.
+
+"We will have the end of the story presently," he said; and deliberately
+turned to his left-hand neighbour.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+THE END OF THE STORY
+
+
+A musical _soiree_ was to follow that interminable dinner, and for a
+time Priscilla was occupied in helping Lady Raffold to receive the
+after-dinner guests. She longed to escape before the contingent from the
+dining-room arrived upstairs, but she soon realised the impossibility of
+this. Her stepmother seemed to want her at every turn, and when at
+length she found herself free, young Lord Harfield appeared at her
+elbow.
+
+It was intolerable. She turned upon him without pity.
+
+"Oh, please," she said, "I've dropped my fan in the dining-room or on
+the stairs. Would you be so kind----"
+
+He departed, not suspecting her of treachery; and she slipped forthwith
+into a tiny conservatory behind the piano. It was her only refuge. She
+could but hope that no one had seen her retire thither. Her need for
+solitude just then was intense. She felt herself physically incapable of
+facing the crowd in the music-room any longer. The first crashing chords
+of the piano covered her retreat. She shut herself softly in, and sank
+into the only chair the little place contained.
+
+Her mind was a chaos of conflicting emotions. Anger, disappointment, and
+an almost insane exultation fought together for the mastery. She longed
+to be rational, to think the matter out quietly and impartially, and
+decide how to treat it. But her most determined efforts were vain. The
+music disturbed her. She felt as if the chords were hammering upon her
+brain. Yet when it suddenly ceased, the unexpected silence was almost
+harder to bear.
+
+In the buzz of applause that ensued, the door behind her opened, and a
+man entered.
+
+She heard the click of the key in the lock, and turned sharply to
+protest. But the words died on her lips, for there was that in his
+brown, resolute face that silenced her. She became suddenly breathless
+and quivering before him, as she had been that day on the down when he
+had taken her into his arms.
+
+He withdrew the key, and dropped it into her lap.
+
+"Open if you will," he said, in the quiet voice, half tender, half
+humorous, that she had come to know so well. "I am closely followed by
+the infant with the scowl."
+
+Priscilla sat silent in her chair. What could she say to him?
+
+"Well?" he said, after a moment. "The end of the story--is it written
+yet?"
+
+She shook her head dumbly. Curiously, the throbbing anger had left her
+heart at the mere sound of his voice.
+
+He waited for about three seconds, then knelt quietly down beside her.
+
+"Say," he drawled, "I kind of like Raffold Abbey, sweetheart. Wouldn't
+it be nice to spend our honeymoon there? Do you think they would let
+us?" He laid his hand upon both of hers. "Wouldn't it be good?" he said
+softly. "I should think there would be room for two, eh, sweetheart?"
+
+With an effort she sought to withstand him before he wholly dominated
+her.
+
+"And every one will call it a _mariage de convenance_!"
+
+"Let them!" he answered, with suppressed indifference. "I reckon we
+shall have the laugh. But it isn't so unusual, you know. Americans
+always fall in love at first sight."
+
+He was unanswerable. He was sublime. She marvelled that she could have
+ever even attempted to resist him.
+
+With a sudden, tremulous laugh, she caught his hand to her, holding it
+fast.
+
+"Not Americans only!" she said. And swiftly, passionately, she bent and
+pressed her lips to the red, seared scar upon her hero's wrist.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                               The Example
+
+
+
+
+"And the fourth angel poured out his vial upon the sun; and power was
+given unto him to scorch men with fire. And men were scorched with great
+heat, and blasphemed the name of God, which hath power over these
+plagues; and they repented not to give Him glory."
+
+The droning voice quivered and fell silent. Within the hospital tent,
+only the buzz of flies innumerable was audible. Without, there sounded
+near at hand the squeak of a sentry's boots, and in the distance the
+clatter of the camp.
+
+The man who lay dying was in a remote and quite detached sense aware of
+these things, but his fevered imagination had carried him beyond. He
+watched, as it were, the glowing pictures that came and went in his
+furnace of pain. These little details were to him but the distant
+humming of the spinning-wheel of time from which he was drawing ever
+farther and farther away. They did not touch that inner consciousness
+with which he saw his visions.
+
+Now and then he turned his head sharply on the pillow, as an alien might
+turn at the sound of a familiar voice, but always, after listening
+intently, it came back to its old position, and the man's restless eyes
+returned to the crack high up in the tent canvas through which the sun
+shone upon him like a piercing eye.
+
+The occupant of the bed next to him watched him furtively, fascinated
+but uneasy. He was a young soldier of the simple country type, and the
+wild words that came now and again from the fevered lips startled him
+uncomfortably. He wished the dying man would cease his mutterings and
+let him sleep. But every time the prolonged silence seemed to indicate a
+final cessation of the nuisance, the droning voice took up the tale once
+more.
+
+"And men were scorched with great heat--and they repented not--repented
+not."
+
+A soft-stepping native orderly moved to the bedside and paused.
+Instantly the wandering words were hushed.
+
+"Bring me some water, Sammy," the same voice said huskily. "If you can't
+take the sun out of the sky, you can give me a drink."
+
+The native shook his head.
+
+"The doctor will come soon," he said soothingly. "Have patience."
+
+Patience! The word had no meaning for him in that inferno of suffering.
+He moved his head, that searching spot of sunlight dancing in his eyes,
+and cursed deep in his throat the man who kept him waiting.
+
+Barely a minute later the doctor came--a quiet, bronzed man, level-eyed
+and strong. He bent over the stricken figure on the bed, and drew the
+tumbled covering up a little higher. He had just written "mortally
+wounded" of this man on his hospital report, but there was nothing in
+his manner to indicate that he had no hope for him.
+
+"Get another pillow," he said to the native orderly. And to the dying
+man: "That will take the sun out of your eyes. I see it is bothering
+you."
+
+"Curse the sun!" the parched lips gasped. "Can't you give me a drink?"
+
+The eyes of the young soldier in the next bed scanned the doctor's face
+anxiously. He, too, wanted a drink. He thirsted from the depths of his
+soul. But he knew there was no water to be had. The supply had been cut
+off hours before.
+
+"No," the doctor said gravely. "I can't give it you yet. By-and-bye,
+perhaps----"
+
+"By-and-bye!" There was a dreadful sound like laughter in the husky
+voice.
+
+The doctor laid a restraining hand on the man's chest.
+
+"Hush!" he said, in a lower tone. "It's this sort of thing that shows
+what a fellow is made of. All these other poor chaps are children. But
+you, Ford, you are grown up, so to speak. I look to you to help me,--to
+set the example."
+
+"Example! Man alive!" A queer light danced like a mocking spirit in
+Private Ford's eyes, and again he laughed--an exceeding bitter laugh.
+"I've been made an example of all my life," he said. "I've sometimes
+thought it was what I was created for. Ah, thanks!" he added in a
+different tone, as the doctor raised him on the extra pillow. "You're a
+brick, sir! Sit down a minute, will you? I want to talk to you."
+
+The doctor complied, his hand on the wounded man's wrist.
+
+"That's better," Ford said. "Keep it there. And stop me if I rave. It's
+a queer little world, isn't it? I remember you well, but you wouldn't
+know me. You were one of the highfliers, and I was always more or less
+of an earthworm. But you'll remember Rotherby, the captain of the first
+eleven? A fine chap--that. He's dead now, eh?"
+
+"Yes," the doctor said, "Rotherby's dead."
+
+He was looking with an intent scrutiny at the scarred and bandaged face
+on the pillow. He had felt from the first that this man was no ordinary
+ranker. Yet till that moment it had never occurred to him that they
+might have met before.
+
+"I always liked Rotherby," the husky voice went on. "He was a big swell,
+and he didn't think much of small fry. But you--you and he were friends,
+weren't you?"
+
+"For a time," the doctor said. "It didn't last."
+
+There was regret in his voice--the keen regret of a man who has lost a
+thing he valued.
+
+"No; it didn't last," Ford agreed. "I remember when you chucked him. Or
+was it the other way round? I saw a good deal of him in those days. I
+thought him a jolly good fellow, till I found out what a scoundrel he
+was. And I had a soft feeling for him even then. You knew he was a
+scoundrel, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes, I knew."
+
+The doctor spoke reluctantly. The hospital tent, the silent row of
+wounded men, the stifling atmosphere, the flies, all were gone from his
+inner vision. He was looking with grave, compassionate eyes at the
+picture that absorbed the man at his side.
+
+"He was good company, eh?" the restless voice went on. "But he had his
+black moments. I didn't know him so well in the days when you and he
+were friends."
+
+"Nor I," the doctor said. "But--why do you want to talk of him?"
+
+Again he was searching the face at his side with grave intensity. It did
+not seem to him that this man could ever have been of the sort that his
+friend Rotherby would have cared to admit to terms of intimacy.
+Rotherby--notwithstanding his sins--had been fastidious in many ways.
+
+The answer seemed to make the matter more comprehensible.
+
+"I was with him when he died," the man said. "It was in just such an
+inferno as this. We were alone together, looking for gold in the
+Australian desert. We didn't find it, though it was there, mountains of
+it. The water gave out. We tossed for the last drain--and I won. That
+was how Rotherby came to die. He hadn't much to live for, and he was
+going to die, anyhow. A queer chap, he was. He and his wife never lived
+together after the smash came, and he had to leave the country. Perhaps
+you knew?"
+
+"Yes," the doctor said again, "I knew."
+
+Ford moved his head restlessly.
+
+"The thought of her used to worry him in the night," he said. "I've
+known him lie for hours not sleeping, just staring up at the stars, and
+thinking, thinking. I've sometimes thought that the worst torture on
+earth can't equal that. You know, after he was dead, they found her
+miniature on him--a thing in a gold case, with their names engraved
+inside. He used to wear it round his neck like a charm. It was by that
+they identified him--that and his signet-ring, and one or two letters.
+Scamp though I was, I had the grace not to rob the dead. They sent the
+things to his wife. I've often wondered what she did with them."
+
+"I can tell you that," said the doctor quietly. "She keeps them among
+her greatest treasures."
+
+Ford turned sharply on his pillows, and stifled an exclamation of pain.
+
+"You know her still, then?" he said.
+
+"She is my wife," the doctor answered.
+
+A long silence followed his words. The wounded soldier lay with closed
+eyes and drawn brows. He seemed to be unconscious of everything save
+physical pain.
+
+Suddenly he seemed to recover himself, and looked up.
+
+"You," he said slowly, "you are Montagu Durant, the fellow she was
+engaged to before she married Rotherby."
+
+The doctor bent his head.
+
+"Yes," he said. "I am Montagu Durant."
+
+"Rotherby's friend," Ford went on. "The chap who stuck to him through
+thick and thin--to be betrayed in the end. I know all about you, you
+see, though you haven't placed me yet."
+
+"No, I can't place you," Durant said. "I don't think we ever knew each
+other very well. You will have to tell me who you are."
+
+"Later--later," said Ford. "No, you never knew me very well. It was
+always you and Rotherby, you and Rotherby. You never looked at any one
+else, till that row at the 'Varsity when he got kicked out. Yes," with a
+sudden, sharp sigh, "I was a 'Varsity man too. I admired Leonard
+Rotherby in those days. Poor old Leo! He knew how to hit a boundary as
+well as any fellow! You never forgave him, I suppose, for marrying your
+girl?"
+
+There was a pause, and the fevered eyes sought Durant's face. The answer
+came at length very slowly.
+
+"I could have forgiven him," Durant said, "if he had stuck to her and
+made her happy."
+
+"Ah! There came the rub. But did Rotherby ever stick to anything? It was
+a jolly good thing he died--for all concerned. Yet, you know, he cared
+for her to the last. Blackguard as he was, he carried her in his heart
+right up to his death. I tell you I was with him, and I know."
+
+There was strong insistence in the man's words. Durant could feel the
+racing pulse leap and quiver under his hand. He leaned forward a little,
+looking closely into the drawn face.
+
+"I think you have talked enough," he said. "Try to get some rest."
+
+"I haven't raved," said Ford, with confidence. "It has done me good to
+talk. I can't help thinking of Leo Rotherby. My brain runs on him. He
+wanted to see you--horribly--before he died. I believe he'd have asked
+your forgiveness. But you wouldn't have given it to him, I suppose? You
+will never forgive him in your heart?"
+
+Again the answer did not come at once. Durant was frowning a little--the
+frown of a man who tries to fathom his own secret impulses.
+
+"I think," he said at last, "that if I had seen him and he had asked for
+it, I should not have refused my forgiveness."
+
+"No one ever refused Rotherby anything," said the dying man, with a
+curious, half-humorous twist of his mouth under its dark moustache.
+
+"Except yourself," Durant reminded him, almost involuntarily.
+
+Again the wandering, uneasy eyes sought his. "You mean--that drain of
+water," Ford said, with a total lack of shame or remorse. "Yes, it's
+true Rotherby didn't have that. But it didn't make any difference, you
+know. He was going to die. And the living come before the dead, eh,
+doctor?"
+
+Durant did not quite understand his tone, but he suffered the words to
+go unchallenged. He was not there to discuss the higher morality with a
+dying man. Moreover, he knew that the bare mention of water was a fiery
+torture to him, disguise it as he might.
+
+He sat a little longer, then rose to go. He fancied that there was a
+shade less of restlessness about this man, whom he knew to be suffering
+what no other man in the tent could have endured in silence.
+
+In response to a sign he stooped to catch a few, low-spoken words.
+
+"By-and-bye," said Private Ford, with husky self-assurance, "when it's
+dark--or only moonlight--a man will creep out between the lines and
+crawl down to the river, to get some water for--the children."
+
+He was wandering again, Durant saw; and his pity mounted high.
+
+"Perhaps, poor fellow; perhaps," he answered gently.
+
+As he went away he heard again the droning, unconscious voice:
+
+"And power was given unto him to scorch men with fire. And men were
+scorched--with great heat. Eh, Sammy? Is that water you have there?
+Quick! Give me--what? There is none? Then why the--why the--" There came
+an abrupt pause; then a brief, dry chuckle that was like the crackling
+of flame through dead twigs. "Ah, I forgot. I mustn't curse. I've got to
+set the example to these children. But, O God, the heat and the flies!"
+
+Durant wondered if after all it had been a kindness to call back the
+passing spirit that had begun to forget.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Slowly the scorching day wore away, till evening descended in a blaze of
+gorgeous colouring upon the desolate African wilderness and the band of
+men that had been surrounded and cut off by a wily enemy.
+
+They were expecting relief. Hourly they expected it, but, being hampered
+by a score of wounded, it was not possible for them to break through the
+thickly populated scrub unassisted. And they had no water.
+
+A stream flowed, brown and sluggish, not more than a hundred yards below
+the camp. But that same stream was flanked on the farther side by a
+long, black line of thicket that poured forth fire upon any man who
+ventured out from behind the great rocks that protected the camp.
+
+It had been attempted again and again, for the needs of the wounded were
+desperate. But each effort had been disastrous, and at last an order had
+gone forth that no man was to expose himself again to this deadly risk.
+
+So, silent behind their entrenchments, with the hospital tent in their
+midst, the British force had to endure the situation, waiting with a
+dogged patience for the coming of their comrades who could not be far
+away.
+
+Regal to the last, the sun sank away in orange and gold; and night,
+burning, majestic, shimmering, spread over a cloudless sky. A full moon
+floated up behind dense forest trees, and shed a glimmering radiance
+everywhere. The heat did not seem to vary by a breath.
+
+A great restlessness spread like a wave through the hospital tent. Men
+waked from troubled slumber, crying aloud like children, piteously,
+unreasoningly, for water.
+
+The doctor went from one to another, restraining, soothing, reassuring.
+His influence made itself felt, and quiet returned; but it was a quiet
+that held no peace; it was the silent gripping of an agony that was
+bound to overcome.
+
+Again and again through the crawling hours the bitter protest broke out
+afresh, like the crying of souls in torment. One or two became delirious
+and had to be forcibly restrained from struggling forth in search of
+that which alone could still their torture.
+
+Durant was too fully occupied with these raving patients of his to spare
+any attention for the bed in the far corner on which they had laid the
+one man whose injuries were mortal. If he thought of the man at all, it
+was to reflect that he was probably dead.
+
+But at last a young officer entered the seething tent, and touched him
+on the shoulder.
+
+"Can you come outside a moment? You're wanted," he said.
+
+Durant turned from a man who was lying exhausted and barely conscious,
+took up his case, and followed him out. He did just glance at the bed in
+the corner as he went, but he saw no movement there.
+
+His summoner turned upon him abruptly as they emerged.
+
+"Look here," he said. "There's a water-bag quite full, waiting for those
+poor beggars in there. Better send one of the orderlies for it."
+
+"Water!" said Durant sharply, as if the news were difficult to believe.
+Then, recovering himself: "Tell the sentry, will you? I can't spare an
+orderly."
+
+The young officer complied, and hurried him on.
+
+"The poor chap is breathing his last," he said. "You can't do him any
+good, but he wants you."
+
+"Who is it?" asked the doctor.
+
+"The man who fetched the water--Ford. He was badly wounded when he
+started. He crawled every inch of the way on his stomach, and back
+again, dragging the bag with him. Heaven knows how he did it! It's taken
+him hours."
+
+"Ford?" the doctor said incredulously. "Ford? Impossible! How did he get
+away?"
+
+"Oh, he crawled through somehow; Heaven only knows how! But he's done
+now, poor beggar--pegging out fast. We got him into shelter, but we
+couldn't do more, he was in such agony."
+
+The speaker stopped, for Durant had broken into a run. The moonlight
+showed him a group of men gathered about a prone figure. They separated
+and stood aside as he reached them; and he, kneeling, found in the prone
+figure the man who had talked with him in the afternoon of the friend
+who had played him false.
+
+He was very far gone, lying in a dreadful twisted heap, his head, with
+its bloodstained bandages, resting on his arm. Yet Durant saw that he
+still lived, and tried with gentle hands to ease the strain of his
+position.
+
+With a sharp gasp, Ford opened his eyes.
+
+"Hullo!" he said. "It's you, is it? Did they get the water?"
+
+"They have got it by now," the doctor answered.
+
+"Ah!" The man's lips twisted in a difficult smile. He struggled bravely
+to keep the mortal agony out of his face. "Gave you the slip that time,"
+he gasped. "Disobeyed orders, too. But it didn't matter--except for
+example. You must tell them, eh? Dying men have privileges."
+
+"Tell him he'd have had the V. C. for it," whispered the officer in
+command, over the doctor's shoulder.
+
+Durant complied, and caught the quick gleam that shot up in the dying
+eyes at his words.
+
+"The gods were always behind time--with me," came the husky whisper. "I
+used to think I'd scale Olympus, but--they kicked me down. If--if
+there's any water to spare, when it's gone round, I--I----"
+
+He broke off with a rending cough. Some one put a tin cup into the
+doctor's hand, and he held it to the parched lips. Ford drank in great
+gulps, and, as he drank, the worst agony passed. His limbs relaxed after
+the draught, and he lay quite still, his face to the sky.
+
+After the passage of minutes he spoke again suddenly. His voice was no
+longer husky, but clear and strong. His eyes were the eyes of a man who
+sees a vision.
+
+"Jove!" he said. "What a princely gathering to see me carry out my bat!
+Don't grin, you fellows. I know it was a fluke--a dashed fine fluke,
+too. But it's what I always meant, after all. There's good old Monty,
+yelling himself hoarse in the pavilion. And his girl--waving. Sweet
+girl, too--the best in the world. I might cut him out there. But I
+won't, I won't! I'm not such a hound as that, though she's the only
+woman in the world, bless her, bless her!"
+
+He stopped. Durant was bending over him, listening eagerly, as one might
+listen to the voice of an old, familiar friend, heard again after many
+years.
+
+He did not speak. He seemed afraid to dispel the other's dream. But
+after a moment, the man in his arms made a sudden, impulsive movement
+towards him. It was almost like a gesture of affection. And their eyes
+met.
+
+There followed a brief silence that had in it something of strain. Then
+Ford uttered a shaky laugh. The vision had passed.
+
+"So--you see--he had to die--anyhow," he said. "My love to--your wife,
+dear old Monty! Tell her--I'm--awfully--pleased!"
+
+His voice ceased, yet for a moment his lips still seemed to form words.
+
+Durant stooped lower over him, and spoke at last with a sort of urgent
+tenderness.
+
+"Leo!" he said. "Leo, old chap!"
+
+But there came no answer save a faint, still smile. The man he called
+had passed beyond his reach.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Relief came to the beleaguered force at daybreak, and the worst incident
+of the campaign ended without disaster. A casualty list, published in
+the London papers a few days later, contained an announcement, which
+concerned nobody who read it, to the effect that Private Ford, of a West
+African Regiment, had succumbed to his wounds.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                       The Friend Who Stood By
+
+
+
+
+"And you will come back, Jim? Promise! Promise!"
+
+"Of course, darling--of course! There! Don't cry! Can't you see it's a
+chance in a thousand? I've never had such a chance before."
+
+The sound of a woman's low sobbing was audible in the silence that
+followed; and a man who was leaning on the sea-wall above, started and
+peered downwards.
+
+He could dimly discern two figures standing in the shadow of a great
+breakwater below him. More than that he could not distinguish, for it
+was a dark night; but he knew that the man's arms were about the girl,
+and that her face was hidden against him.
+
+Realising himself to be an intruder, he stood up and began to walk away.
+
+He had not gone a dozen yards before the sound of flying feet caught his
+attention, and he turned his head. A woman's light figure was running
+behind him along the deserted parade. He waited for her under a
+gas-lamp.
+
+She overtook him and fled past him without a pause. He caught a glimpse
+of a pale face and fair hair in wild disorder.
+
+Then she was gone again into the night, running swiftly. The darkness
+closed about her, and hid her from view.
+
+The man on the parade paused for several seconds, then walked back to
+his original resting-place by the sea-wall.
+
+The band on the pier was playing a jaunty selection from a comic opera.
+It came in gusts of gaiety. The wash of the sea, as it crept up the
+beach, was very mysterious and remote.
+
+Below, on the piled shingle, a man stood alone, staring out over the
+darkness, motionless and absorbed.
+
+The watcher above him struck a match at length and kindled a cigarette.
+His face was lit up during the operation. It was the face of a man who
+had seen a good deal of the world and had not found the experience
+particularly refreshing. Yet, as he looked down upon the silent figure
+below him, there was more of compassion than cynicism in his eyes. There
+was a glint of humour also, like the shrewd half-melancholy humour of a
+monkey that possesses the wisdom of all the ages, and can impart none of
+it.
+
+Suddenly there was a movement on the shingle. The lonely figure had
+turned and flung itself face downwards among the tumbling stones. The
+abandonment of the action was very young, and perhaps it was that very
+fact that made it so indescribably pathetic. To Lester Cheveril, leaning
+on the sea-wall, it appealed as strongly as the crying of a child. He
+glanced over his shoulder. The place was deserted. Then he deliberately
+dropped his cigarette-case over the wall and exclaimed: "Confound it!"
+
+The prone figure on the shingle rolled over and sat up.
+
+"Hullo!" said Cheveril.
+
+There was a distinct pause before a voice replied: "Hullo! What's the
+matter?"
+
+"I've dropped my cigarette-case," said Cheveril. "Beastly careless of
+me!"
+
+Again there was a pause. Then the man below him stumbled to his feet.
+
+"I've got a match," he said. "I'll see if I can find it."
+
+"Don't trouble," said Cheveril politely. "The steps are close by."
+
+He walked away at an easy pace and descended to the beach. The flicker
+of a match guided him to the searcher. As he drew near, the light went
+out, and the young man turned to meet him.
+
+"Here it is," he said gruffly.
+
+"Many thanks!" said Cheveril. "It's so confoundedly dark to-night. I
+scarcely expected to see it again."
+
+The other muttered an acknowledgment, and stood prepared to depart.
+
+Cheveril, however, paused in a conversational attitude. He had not
+risked his property for nothing.
+
+"A pretty little place, this," he said. "I suppose you are a visitor
+here like myself?"
+
+"I'm leaving to-morrow," was the somewhat grudging rejoinder.
+
+"I only came this afternoon," said Cheveril. "Is there anything to see
+here?"
+
+"There's the sea and the lighthouse," his companion told him
+curtly--"nothing else."
+
+Cheveril smiled faintly to himself in the darkness.
+
+"Try one of these cigarettes," he said sociably. "I don't enjoy smoking
+alone."
+
+He was aware, as his unknown friend accepted the offer, that he would
+have infinitely preferred to refuse.
+
+"Been here long?" he asked him, as they plunged through the shingle
+towards the sand.
+
+"I've lived here nearly all my life," was the reply. And, after a
+moment, as if the confidence would not be repressed: "I'm leaving
+now--for good."
+
+"Ah!" said Cheveril sympathetically. "It's pretty beastly when you come
+to turn out. I've done it, and I know."
+
+"It's infernal," said the other gloomily, and relapsed into silence.
+
+"Going abroad?" Cheveril ventured presently.
+
+"Yes. Going to the other side of the world." Surliness had given place
+to depression in the boy's voice. Sympathy, albeit from an unknown
+quarter, moved him to confidence. "But it isn't that I mind," he said, a
+moment later. "I should be ready enough to clear out if it weren't
+for--some one else!"
+
+"A woman, I suppose?" Cheveril said.
+
+He was aware that his companion glanced at him sharply through the
+gloom, and knew that he was momentarily suspected of eavesdropping.
+
+Then, with impulsive candour, the answer came:
+
+"Yes; the girl I'm engaged to. She has got to stay behind and
+marry--some one else."
+
+Cheveril's teeth closed silently upon his lower lip. This, also, was one
+of the things he knew.
+
+"You can't trust her, then?" he said, after a pause.
+
+"Oh, she cares for me--of course!" the boy answered. "But there isn't a
+chance for us. They are all dead against me, and the other fellow will
+be on the spot. He hasn't asked her yet, but he means to. And her people
+will simply force her to accept him when he does. Of course they will!
+He is Cheveril, the millionaire. You must have heard of him. Every one
+has."
+
+"I know him well," said Cheveril.
+
+"So do I--by sight," the boy plunged on recklessly--"an undersized
+little animal with a squint."
+
+"I didn't know he squinted," Cheveril remarked into the darkness. "But,
+anyhow, they can't make her marry against her will."
+
+"Can't they?" returned the other fiercely. "I don't know what you call
+it, then. They can make her life so positively unbearable that she will
+have to give in, if it is only to get away from them. It's perfectly
+fiendish; but they will do it. I know they will do it. She hasn't a
+single friend to stand by her."
+
+"Except you," said Cheveril.
+
+They had nearly reached the water. The rush and splash of the waves held
+something solemn in their harmonies, like the chords of a splendid
+symphony. Cheveril heard the quick, indignant voice at his side like a
+cry of unrest breaking through.
+
+"What can I do?" it said. "I have never had a chance till now. I have
+just had a berth in India offered to me; but I can't possibly hope to
+support a wife for two years at least. And meanwhile--meanwhile----"
+
+It stopped there; and a long wave broke with a roar, and rushed up in
+gleaming foam almost to their feet. The younger man stepped back; but
+Cheveril remained motionless, his face to the swirling water.
+
+Quite suddenly at length he turned, as a man whose mind is made up, and
+began to walk back to the dimly lighted parade. He marched straight up
+the shingle, as if with a definite purpose in view, and mounted the
+rickety iron ladder to the pavement.
+
+His companion followed, too absorbed by his trouble to feel any
+curiosity regarding the stranger to whom he had poured it out.
+
+Under a flaring gas-lamp, Cheveril stood still.
+
+"Do you mind telling me your name?" he said abruptly.
+
+That roused the boy slightly. "My name is Willowby," he answered--"James
+Willowby."
+
+He looked at Cheveril with a dawning wonder, and the latter uttered a
+short, grim laugh. The light streamed full upon his face.
+
+"You know me well, don't you," he said, "by sight?"
+
+Young Willowby gave a great start and turned crimson. He offered neither
+apology nor excuse.
+
+"I like you for that," Cheveril said, after a moment. "Can you bring
+yourself to shake hands?"
+
+There was unmistakable friendliness in his tone, and Willowby responded
+to it promptly. He was a sportsman at heart, however he might rail at
+circumstance.
+
+As their hands met, he looked up with a queer, mirthless smile.
+
+"I hope you are going to be good to her," he said.
+
+"I am going to be good to you both," said Lester Cheveril quietly.
+
+In the silence that followed his words, the band on the pier became
+audible on a sudden gust of wind. It was gaily jigging out the tune of
+"The Girl I Left Behind Me."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"What a secluded corner, Miss Harford! May I join you?"
+
+Evelyn Harford looked up with a start of dismay. He was the last person
+in the world with whom she desired a _tete-a-tete_; but he was dining at
+her father's house, and she could not well refuse. Reluctantly she laid
+aside the paper on her knee.
+
+"I thought you were playing bridge," she said, in a chilly tone.
+
+"I cried off," said Cheveril.
+
+He stood looking down at her with shrewd, kindly eyes. But the girl was
+too intent upon making her escape to notice his expression.
+
+"Won't you go to the billiard-room?" she said. "They are playing pool."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I came here expressly to talk to you," he said.
+
+"Oh!" said Evelyn.
+
+She leaned back in her chair, and tried to appear at her ease; but her
+heart was thumping tumultuously. The man was going to propose, she
+knew--she knew; and she was not ready for him. She felt that she would
+break down ignominiously if he pressed his suit just then.
+
+Cheveril, however, seemed in no hurry. He sat down facing her, and there
+followed a pause, during which she felt that he was studying her
+attentively.
+
+Growing desperate at length, she looked him in the face, and spoke.
+
+"I am not a very lively companion to-night, Mr. Cheveril," she said.
+"That is why I came away from the rest."
+
+There was more of appeal in her voice than she intended; and, realising
+it, she coloured deeply, and looked away again. He was just the sort of
+man to avail himself of a moment's weakness, she told herself, with
+rising agitation. Those shrewd eyes of his missed nothing.
+
+But Cheveril gave no sign of having observed her distress. He maintained
+his silence for some seconds longer. Then, somewhat abruptly, he broke
+it.
+
+"I didn't follow you in order to be amused, Miss Harford," he said. "The
+fact is, I have a confession to make to you, and a favour to ask. And I
+want you to be good enough to hear me out before you try to answer. May
+I count on this?"
+
+The dry query did more to quiet her perturbation than any solicitude.
+She was quite convinced that he meant to propose to her, but his absence
+of ardour was an immense relief. If he would only be businesslike and
+not sentimental, she felt that she could bear it.
+
+"Yes, I will listen," she said, facing him with more self-possession
+than she had been able to muster till that moment. "But I shall want a
+fair hearing, too--afterwards."
+
+A faint smile flickered across Cheveril's face.
+
+"I shall want to listen to you," he said. "The confession is this: Last
+night I went down to the parade to smoke. It was very dark. I don't know
+exactly what attracted me. I came upon two people saying good-bye on the
+beach. One of them--a woman--was crying."
+
+He paused momentarily. The girl's face had frozen into set lines of
+composure. It looked like a marble mask. Her eyes met his with an
+assumption of indifference that scarcely veiled the desperate defiance
+behind.
+
+"When does the confession begin?" she asked him, with a faint laugh that
+sounded tragic in spite of her.
+
+He leaned forward, scrutinising her with a wisdom that seemed to pierce
+every barrier of conventionality and search her very soul.
+
+"It begins now," he said. "She came up on to the parade immediately
+after, and I waited under a lamp to get a glimpse of her. I saw her
+face, Miss Harford. I knew her instantly." The girl's eyes flickered a
+little, and she bit her lip. She was about to speak, but he stopped her
+with sudden authority. "No, don't answer!" he said. "Hear me out. I
+waited till she was gone, and then I joined the young fellow on the
+beach. He was in the mood for a sympathetic listener, and I drew him
+out. He told me practically everything--how he himself was going to
+India and had to leave the girl behind, how her people disapproved of
+him, and how she was being worked upon by means little short of
+persecution to induce her to marry an outsider on the wrong side of
+forty, with nothing to recommend him but the size of his banking
+account. He added that she had not a single friend to stand by and make
+things easier for her. It was that, Miss Harford, that decided me to
+take this step. I can't see a woman driven against her will; anything in
+the world sooner than that. And here comes my request. You want a friend
+to help you. Let me be that friend. There is a way out of this
+difficulty if you will but take it. Since I got you into it, it is only
+fair that I should be the one to help you out. This is not a proposal of
+marriage, though it may sound like one."
+
+He ended with a smile that was perfectly friendly and kind.
+
+The rigid look had completely passed from the girl's face. She was
+listening with a curious blend of eagerness and reluctance. Her cheeks
+were burning; her eyes like stars.
+
+"I am so thankful to hear you say that," she said, drawing a deep
+breath.
+
+"Shall I go on?" said Cheveril.
+
+She hesitated; and very quietly he held out his hand to her.
+
+"In the capacity of a friend," he said gravely.
+
+And Evelyn Harford put her hand into his with the confidence of a child.
+It was strange to feel her prejudice against this man evaporate at a
+touch. It made her oddly unsure of herself. He was the last person in
+the world to whom she would have voluntarily turned for help.
+
+"Don't be startled by what I am going to say," Cheveril said. "It may
+strike you as an eccentric suggestion, but there is nothing in it to
+alarm you. Young Willowby tells me that it will take him two years to
+make a home for you, and meanwhile your life is to be made a martyrdom
+on my account. Will you put your freedom in my hands for that two years?
+In other words, will you consider yourself engaged to me for just so
+long as his absence lasts? It will save you endless trouble and
+discomfort, and harm no one. When Willowby comes back, I shall hand you
+over to him, and your happiness will be secured. Think it over, and
+don't be scared. You will find me quite easy to manage. In any case, I
+am a friend you can trust, remember, even though I have got the face of
+a baboon."
+
+So, with absolute quietness, he made his proposal; and Evelyn, amazed
+and incredulous, heard him out in silence. At his last words she gave a
+quick laugh that sounded almost hysterical.
+
+"Oh, don't," she said--"don't! You make me feel so ashamed."
+
+Cheveril's face was suddenly quizzical.
+
+"There is nothing to be ashamed of," he said. "I take all the
+responsibility, and it would give me very great pleasure to help you."
+
+"But I couldn't do such a thing!" she protested. "I couldn't!"
+
+"Listen!" said Cheveril. "I am off for a yachting trip in the Pacific in
+a week, and I give you my word of honour not to return for nine months,
+at least. Will that make it easier for you?"
+
+"I am not thinking of myself," she told him, with vehemence. "Of course,
+it would make everything right for me, so long as Jim knew. But I must
+think of you, too. I must----"
+
+"You needn't," Cheveril said gently; "you needn't. I have asked to be
+allowed to stand by you, to have the great privilege of calling myself
+your friend in need. I am romantic enough to like to see a love affair
+go the right way. It is for my pleasure, if you care to regard it from
+that point of view." He paused, and into his eyes there came a queer,
+watchful expression--the look of a man who hazards much, yet holds
+himself in check. Then he smiled at her with baffling humour.
+
+"Don't refuse me my opportunity, Miss Harford," he said. "I know I am
+eccentric, but I assure you I can be a staunch friend to those I like."
+
+Evelyn had risen, and as he ended he also got to his feet. He knew that
+she was studying him with all her woman's keenness of perception. But
+the game was in his hands, and he realised it. He was no longer afraid
+of the issue.
+
+"You offer me this out of friendship?" she said at last.
+
+He watched her fingers nervously playing with a bracelet on her wrist.
+
+"Exactly," he said.
+
+Her eyes met his resolutely.
+
+"Mr. Cheveril," she said (and though she spoke quietly, it was with an
+effort), "I want you, please, to answer just one question. You have been
+shown all the cards; but there must--there shall be--fair play, in spite
+of it."
+
+Her voice rang a little. The bracelet suddenly slipped from her hand and
+fell to the floor. Cheveril stooped and picked it up. He held it as he
+made reply.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I like fair play, too."
+
+"Then you will tell me the truth?" she said, holding out her hand for
+her property. "I want to know if--if you were really going to ask me to
+marry you before this happened?"
+
+He looked at her with raised eyebrows. Then he took the extended hand.
+
+"Of course I was!" he said simply. She drew back a little, but Cheveril
+showed no discomfiture. "You see, I'm getting on in life," he said, in a
+patriarchal tone. "No doubt it was rank presumption on my part to
+imagine myself in any way suited to you; but I thought it would be nice
+to have a young wife to look after me. And you know the proverb about
+'an old man's darling.' I believe I rather counted on that."
+
+Again he looked quizzical; but the girl was not satisfied.
+
+"That's ridiculous!" she said. "You talk as if you were fifty years
+older than you are. It may be funny, but it isn't strictly honest."
+
+Cheveril laughed.
+
+"I know what you mean," he said. "But really I'm not being funny. And I
+am telling you the simple truth when I say that all sentimental nonsense
+was knocked out of me long ago, when the girl I cared for ran away with
+a good-looking beast in the Army. Also, I am quite honest when I assure
+you that I would rather be your trusted friend and accomplice than your
+rejected suitor. By Jove, I seem to be asking a good deal of you!"
+
+"No, don't laugh," she said quickly, almost as if something in his
+careless speech had pained her. "We must look at the matter from every
+stand-point before--before we take any action. Suppose you really did
+want to marry some one? Suppose you fell in love again? What then?"
+
+"What then?" said Cheveril. And, though he was obligingly serious, she
+felt that somehow, somewhere, he was tricking her. "I should have to ask
+you to release me in that event. But I don't think it's very likely that
+will happen. I'm not so impressionable as I was."
+
+She looked at him doubtfully. Obviously he was not in love with her, yet
+she was uneasy. She had a curious sense of loss, of disappointment,
+which even Jim's departure had not created in her.
+
+"I don't feel that I am doing right," she said finally.
+
+"I am quite unscrupulous," said Cheveril lightly. "Moreover, there is no
+harm to any one in the transaction. Your life is your own. No one else
+has the right to order it for you. It seems to me that in this matter
+you need to consider yourself alone."
+
+"And you," she said, in a troubled tone.
+
+He surprised her an instant later by thrusting a friendly hand through
+her arm.
+
+"Come!" he said, smiling down at her. "Let us go and announce the good
+news!"
+
+And so she yielded to him, and went.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The news of Evelyn Harford's engagement to Lester Cheveril was no great
+surprise to any one. It leaked out through private sources, it being
+understood that no public announcement was to be made till the marriage
+should be imminent. And as Cheveril had departed in his yacht to the
+Pacific very shortly after his proposal, there seemed small likelihood
+of the union taking place that year.
+
+Meanwhile, her long battle over, Evelyn prepared herself to enjoy her
+hard-earned peace. Her father no longer poured hurricanes of wrath upon
+her for her obduracy. Her mother's bitter reproaches had wholly ceased.
+The home atmosphere had become suddenly calm and sunny. The eldest
+daughter of the house had done her obvious duty, and the family was no
+longer shaken and upset by internal tumult.
+
+But the peace was only on the surface so far as Evelyn was concerned.
+Privately, she was less at peace than she had ever been, and that not on
+her own account or on Jim Willowby's. Every letter she received from the
+man who had taken her part against himself stirred afresh in her a keen
+self-reproach and sense of shame. He wrote to her from every port he
+touched, brief, friendly epistles that she might have shown to all the
+world, but which she locked away secretly, and read only in solitude.
+Her letters to him were even briefer, and she never guessed how Cheveril
+cherished those scanty favours.
+
+So through all that summer they kept up the farce. In the autumn Evelyn
+went to pay a round of visits at various country-houses, and it was
+while staying from home that a letter from Jim Willowby reached her.
+
+He wrote in apparently excellent spirits. He had had an extraordinary
+piece of luck, he said, and had been offered a very good post in Burmah.
+If she would consent to go out to him, they could be married at once.
+
+That letter Evelyn read during a solitary ramble over a wide Yorkshire
+moor, and when she looked up from the boy's signature her expression was
+hunted, even tragic.
+
+Jim had carefully considered ways and means. The thing she had longed
+for was within her grasp. All she had ever asked for herself was flung
+to her without stint.
+
+But--what had happened to her? she wondered vaguely--she realised it all
+fully, completely, yet with no thrill of gladness. Something subtly
+potent seemed wound about her heart, holding her back; something that
+was stronger far than the thought of Jim was calling to her, crying
+aloud across the barren deserts of her soul. And in that moment she knew
+that her marriage with Jim had become a final impossibility, and that it
+was imperative upon her to write at once and tell him so.
+
+She walked miles that day, and returned at length utterly wearied in
+body and mind. She was facing the hardest problem of her life.
+
+Not till after midnight was her letter to Jim finished, and even then
+she could not rest. Had she utterly ruined the boy's life? she wondered,
+as she sealed and directed her crude, piteous appeal for freedom.
+
+When the morning light came grey through her window she was still poring
+above a blank sheet of notepaper.
+
+This eventually carried but one sentence, addressed to the friend who
+had stood by her in trouble; and later in the day she sent it by cable
+to the other side of the world. The message ran: "Please cancel
+engagement.--Evelyn." His answering cable was brought to her at the
+dinner-table. Two words only--"Delighted.--Lester."
+
+Out of a mist of floating uncertainty she saw her host bend towards her.
+
+"All well, I trust?" he said kindly.
+
+And she made a desperate effort to control her weakness and reply
+naturally.
+
+"Oh, quite, quite," she said. "It is exactly what I expected."
+Nevertheless, she was trembling from head to foot, as if she had been
+dealt a stunning blow.
+
+Had she altogether expected so prompt and obliging a reply?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Some weeks later, on an afternoon of bleak, early spring, Evelyn
+wandered alone on the shore where she had bidden Jim Willowby farewell.
+It was raining, and the sea was grey and desolate. The tide was coming
+in with a fierce roaring that seemed to fill the whole world.
+
+She had a letter from Jim in her hand--his answer to her appeal for
+freedom; and she had sought the solitude of the shore in which to read
+it.
+
+She took shelter from the howling sea-wind behind a great boulder of
+rock. She dreaded his reproaches unspeakably. For the past six weeks she
+had lived in dread of that moment. Her fingers were shaking as she
+opened the envelope that bore his boyish scrawl.
+
+An enclosure fell out before she had withdrawn his letter. She caught it
+up hastily before the wind could take possession. It was an unmounted
+photograph--actually the portrait of a girl.
+
+Evelyn stared at the roguish, laughing face with a great amazement.
+Then, with a haste that baffled its own ends, she sought his letter.
+
+It began with astounding jauntiness:
+
+     "DEAR OLD EVE,--What a pair of superhuman idiots we have
+     been! Many thanks for your sweet letter, which did me no end of
+     good. I never loved you so much before, dear. Can you believe it? I
+     am not surprised that you feel unequal to the task of keeping me in
+     order for the rest of our natural lives. Will it surprise you to
+     know that I had my doubts on the matter even when I wrote to
+     suggest it? Never mind, dear old girl, I understand. And may the
+     right man turn up soon and make you happy for the rest of your
+     life!
+
+     "I am sending a photograph of a girl who till three weeks ago was
+     no more than a friend to me, but has since become my _fiancee_.
+     Love is a wonderful thing, Eve. It comes upon you so suddenly and
+     carries you away before you have time to realise what has happened.
+     At least that has been my experience. There is no mistaking the
+     real thing when it actually comes to you.
+
+     "I am getting on awfully well, and like the life. By the way, it
+     was through your friend, Lester Cheveril, that I got this
+     appointment. A jolly decent chap that! I liked him from the first.
+     It isn't every man who will stand being told he squints without
+     taking offence. We are hoping to get married next month.
+     Write--won't you?--and send me your blessing. Much love--Yours
+     ever,
+
+     "JAMES WILLOBY."
+
+Evelyn looked up from the letter with a deep breath of relief. It was so
+amazingly satisfactory. She almost forgot the emptiness of her own life
+for the moment in her rejoicing over Jim's happiness.
+
+There was a little puddle of sea-water at her feet; and she climbed up
+to a comfortable perch on her sheltering rock and turned her face to the
+sea. Somehow, it did not seem so desolate as it had seemed five minutes
+before. This particular seat was a favourite haunt of hers in the
+summer. She loved to watch the tide come foaming up, and to feel the
+salt spray in her face.
+
+Five minutes later, a great wave came hurling at the rock on which she
+sat, and, breaking in a torrent of foam, deluged her from head to foot.
+
+She started up in swift alarm. The tide was coming in fast--much faster
+than she had anticipated. The shore curved inwards in a deep bay just
+there, and the cliffs rose sheer and unscalable from it to a
+considerable height.
+
+Evelyn seldom went down to the shore in the winter, and she was not
+familiar with its dangers. The sea had seemed far enough out for safety
+when she had rounded the point nearest to the town, barely half an hour
+before. It was with almost incredulous horror that she saw that the
+waves were already breaking at the foot of the cliffs she had skirted.
+
+She turned with a sudden, awful fear at her heart to look towards the
+farther point. It was a full mile away, and she saw instantly that she
+could not possibly reach it in time. The waves were already foaming
+white among the scattered boulders at its base.
+
+Again a great wave broke behind her with a sound like the booming of a
+gun; and she realised that she would be surrounded in less than thirty
+seconds if she remained where she was. She slipped and slid down the
+side of the rock with the speed of terror, and plunged recklessly into a
+foot of water at the bottom. Before another wave broke she was dashing
+and stumbling among the rocks like a frenzied creature seeking safety
+from the remorseless, devouring monster that roared behind her.
+
+The next five minutes of her life held for her an agony more terrible
+than anything she had ever known. Sea, sky, wind, and sudden pelting
+rain seemed leagued against her in a monstrous array against which she
+battled vainly with her puny woman's strength. The horror of it was like
+a leaden, paralysing weight. She fought and struggled because instinct
+compelled her; but at her heart was the awful knowledge that the sea had
+claimed her and she could not possibly escape.
+
+She made for the farther point of the bay, though she knew she could not
+reach it in time. The loose shingle crumbled about her feet; the seaweed
+trapped her everywhere. She fell a dozen times in that awful race, and
+each time she rose in agony and tore on. The tumult all about her was
+like the laughter of fiends. She felt as if hell had opened its mouth,
+and she, poor soul, was its easy prey.
+
+There came a moment at last when she tripped and fell headlong, and
+could not rise again. That moment was the culmination of her anguish.
+Neither soul nor body could endure more. Darkness--a howling, unholy
+darkness--came down upon her in a thick cloud from which there was no
+escape. She made a futile, convulsive effort to pray, and lost
+consciousness in the act.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Out of the darkness at length she came.
+
+The tumult was still audible, but it was farther away, less
+overwhelming. She opened her eyes in a strange, unnatural twilight, and
+stared vaguely upwards.
+
+At the same instant she became aware of some one at her side, bending
+over her--a man whose face, revealed to her in the dim light, sent a
+throb of wonder through her heart.
+
+"You!" she said, speaking with a great effort. "Is it really you?"
+
+He was rubbing one of her hands between his own. He paused to answer.
+
+"Yes; it's really me," he said. And she fancied his voice quivered a
+little. "They told me I might perhaps find you on the shore. Are you
+better?"
+
+She tried to sit up, and he helped her, keeping his arm about her
+shoulders. She found herself lying on a ledge of rock high up in the
+slanting wall of a deep and narrow cave. She knew the place well, and
+had always avoided it with instinctive aversion. It was horribly eerie.
+The rocky walls were wet with the ooze and slime of the ages. There was
+a trickle of spring-water along the ridged floor.
+
+Evelyn closed her eyes dizzily. The marvel of the man's presence was
+still upon her, but the horror of death haunted her also. She would
+rather have been drowned outside on the howling shore than here.
+
+"The sea comes in at high tide," she murmured shakily.
+
+Lester Cheveril, crouching beside her, made undaunted reply.
+
+"Yes, I know. But it won't touch us. Don't be afraid!"
+
+The assurance with which he spoke struck her very forcibly; but
+something held her back from questioning the grounds of his confidence.
+
+"How did you get here?" she asked him instead.
+
+"I saw you from the corner of the bay," he said. "It was before you left
+your rock. I climbed round the point over the boulders. I thought at the
+time that there must be some way up the cliff. Then I saw you start
+running, and I knew you were cut off. I yelled to you, but I couldn't
+make you hear. So I had to give chase."
+
+His arm tightened a little about her.
+
+"I am sorry you were scared," he said. "Are you feeling better now?"
+
+She could not understand him. He spoke with such entire absence of
+anxiety. In spite of herself her own fears began to subside.
+
+"Yes, I am better," she said. "But--tell me more. Why didn't you go back
+when you saw what had happened?"
+
+"I couldn't," he said simply. "Besides, even if they launched the
+lifeboat, the chances were dead against their reaching you. I thought of
+a rope, too. But that seemed equally risky. It was a choice of odds. I
+chose what looked the easiest."
+
+"And carried me here?" she said.
+
+The light, shining weirdly in upon his face, showed her that he was
+smiling.
+
+"I couldn't stop to consult you," he said. "I saw this hole, and I made
+for it. I climbed up with you across my shoulder."
+
+"You are wonderfully strong," she said, in a tone of surprise.
+
+He laughed openly.
+
+"Notwithstanding my size," he said. "Yes; I'm fairly muscular, thank
+Heaven."
+
+Evelyn's mind was still working round the problem of deliverance.
+
+"We shall have to stay here for hours," she said, "even if--if----"
+
+He interrupted her with grave authority.
+
+"There is no 'if,' Miss Harford," he said. "We may have to spend some
+hours here; but it will be in safety."
+
+"I don't see how you can tell," she ventured to remark, beginning to
+look around her with greater composure notwithstanding.
+
+"Providence doesn't play practical jokes of that sort," said Cheveril
+quietly. "Do you know I have come from the other end of the earth to see
+you?"
+
+She felt the burning colour rush up to her temples, yet she made a
+determined effort to look him in the face. His eyes, keen and kindly,
+were searching hers, and she found she could not meet them.
+
+"I--I don't know what brought you," she said, in a very low voice.
+
+She felt the arm that supported her grow rigid, and guessed that he was
+putting force upon himself as he made reply.
+
+"Let me explain," he said. "You sent me a cablegram which said, 'Please
+cancel engagement.' Naturally that had but one meaning for me--you and
+Jim Willowby had got the better of your difficulties, and were going to
+be married. In the capacity of friend, I received the news with
+rejoicing. So I cabled back 'Delighted.' Soon after that came a letter
+from Jim to tell me you had thrown him over. Now, why?"
+
+She answered him with her head bent:
+
+"I found that I didn't care for him quite in that way."
+
+Cheveril did not speak for several seconds. Then, abruptly, he said:
+
+"There is another fellow in the business."
+
+She made a slight gesture of appeal, and remained silent.
+
+He leaned forward slowly at length, and laid his hand upon both of hers.
+
+"Evelyn," he said very gently, "will you tell me his name?"
+
+She shook her head instantly. Her lips were quivering, and she bit them
+desperately.
+
+He waited, but no word came. Outside, the roaring of the sea was
+terrible and insistent. The great sound sent a shudder through the girl.
+She shrank closer to the cold stone.
+
+He pulled off his coat and wrapped it round her. Then, as if she had
+been a child, he drew her gently into his arms, and held her so.
+
+"Tell me--now," he said softly.
+
+But she hid her face dumbly. No words would come.
+
+It seemed a long while before he spoke again.
+
+"That cable of yours was a fraud," he said then. "I was not--I am
+not--prepared to release you from your engagement except under the
+original condition."
+
+"I think you must," she said faintly.
+
+He sought for her cold hands and thrust them against his neck. And again
+there was a long silence, while outside the sea raged fiercely, and far
+below them in the distance a white streak of foam ran bubbling over the
+rocky floor.
+
+Soon the streak had become a stream of dancing, storm-tossed water.
+Evelyn watched it with wide, fascinated eyes. But she made no sign of
+fear. She felt as if he had, somehow, laid a quieting hand upon her
+soul.
+
+Higher the water rose, and higher. The cave was filled with dreadful
+sound. It was almost dark, for dusk had fallen. She felt that but for
+the man's presence she would have been wild with fear. But his absolute
+confidence wove a spell about her that no terror could penetrate. The
+close holding of his arms was infinitely comforting to her. She knew
+with complete certainty that he was not afraid.
+
+"It's very dark," she whispered to him once; and he pressed her head
+down upon his breast and told her not to look. Through the tumult she
+heard the strong, quiet beating of his heart, and was ashamed of her own
+mortal fear.
+
+It seemed to her that hours passed while she crouched there, listening,
+as the water rose and rose. She caught the gleam of it now and then, and
+once her face was wet with spray. She clung closer and closer to her
+companion, but she kept down her panic. She felt that he expected it of
+her, and she would have died there in the dark, sooner than have
+disappointed him.
+
+At last, after an eternity of quiet waiting, he spoke.
+
+"The tide has turned," he said. And his tone carried conviction with it.
+
+She raised her head to look.
+
+A dim, silvery light shone mysteriously in revealing the black walls
+above them, the tossing water below. It had been within a foot of their
+resting-place, but it had dropped fully six inches.
+
+Evelyn felt a great throb of relief pass through her. Only then did she
+fully realise how great her fear had been.
+
+"Is that the moon?" she asked wonderingly.
+
+"Yes," said Cheveril. He spoke in a low voice, even with reverence, she
+thought. "We shall be out of this in an hour. It will light us home."
+
+"How--wonderful!" she said, half involuntarily.
+
+Cheveril said no more; but the silence that fell between them was the
+silence of that intimacy which only those who have stood together before
+the great threshold of death can know. Many minutes passed before Evelyn
+spoke again, and then her words came slowly, with hesitation.
+
+"You knew?" she said. "You knew that we were safe?"
+
+"Yes," he answered quietly; "I knew. God doesn't give with one hand and
+take away with the other. Have you never noticed that?"
+
+"I don't know," she answered with a sharp sigh. "He has never given me
+anything very valuable."
+
+"Quite sure?" said Cheveril, and she caught the old quizzical note in
+his voice.
+
+She did not reply. She was trying to understand him in the darkness, and
+she found it a difficult matter.
+
+There followed a long, long silence. The roar of the breaking seas had
+become remote and vague.
+
+But the moonlight was growing brighter. The dark cave was no longer a
+place of horror.
+
+"Shall we go?" Evelyn suggested at last.
+
+He peered downwards.
+
+"I think we might," he said. "No doubt your people will be very anxious
+about you."
+
+They climbed down with difficulty, till they finally stood together on
+the wet stones.
+
+And there Cheveril reached out a hand and detained the girl beside him.
+
+"That other fellow?" he said, in his quiet, half-humorous voice. "You
+didn't tell me his name."
+
+"Oh, please!" she said tremulously.
+
+He took her hands gently into his, and stood facing her. The moonlight
+was full in his eyes. They shone with a strange intensity.
+
+"Do you remember," he said, "how I once said to you that I was romantic
+enough to like to see a love affair go the right way?"
+
+She did not answer him. She was trembling in his hold.
+
+He waited for a few seconds; then spoke, still kindly, but with a force
+that in a measure compelled her:
+
+"That is why I want you to tell me his name."
+
+She turned her face aside.
+
+"I--I can't!" she said piteously.
+
+"Then I hold you to your engagement," said Lester Cheveril, with quiet
+determination.
+
+Her hands leapt in his. She threw him a quick uncertain glance.
+
+"You can't mean that!" she said.
+
+"I do mean it," he rejoined resolutely.
+
+"But--but--" she faltered. "You don't really want to marry me? You
+can't!"
+
+He looked grimly at her for a moment. Then abruptly he broke into a
+laugh that rang and echoed exultantly in the deep shadows behind them.
+
+"I want it more than anything else on earth," he said. "Does that
+satisfy you?"
+
+His face was close to hers, but she felt no desire to escape. That laugh
+of his was still ringing like sweetest music through her soul.
+
+He took her shoulders between his hands, searching her face closely.
+
+"And now," he said--"now tell me his name!"
+
+Yet a moment longer she withstood him. Then she yielded, and went into
+his arms, laughing also--a broken, tearful laugh.
+
+"His name is--Lester Cheveril," she whispered. "But I--I can't think how
+you guessed."
+
+He answered her as he turned her face upwards to meet his own.
+
+"The friend who stands by sees many things," he said wisely. "And Love
+is not always blind."
+
+"But you--you weren't in love," she protested. "Not when----"
+
+He interrupted her instantly and convincingly.
+
+"I have always loved you," he said.
+
+And she believed him, because her own heart told her that he had spoken
+the truth.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                            The Right Man
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+"He hasn't proposed, then?"
+
+"No; he hasn't." A pause; then, reluctantly: "I haven't given him the
+opportunity."
+
+"Violet! Do you want to starve?"
+
+The speaker turned in his chair, and looked at the girl bending over the
+fire, with a quick, impatient frown on his handsome face. They were
+twins, these two, the only representatives of a family that had been
+wealthy three generations before them, but whose resources had dwindled
+steadily under the management of three successive spendthrifts, and had
+finally disappeared altogether in a desperate speculation which had
+promised to restore everything.
+
+"You don't seem to realise," the young man said, "that we are absolutely
+penniless--destitute. Everything is sunk in this Winhalla Railway
+scheme, up to the last penny. It seemed a gorgeous chance at the time.
+It ought to have brought in thousands. It would have done, too, if it
+had been properly supported. But it's no good talking about that. It's
+just a gigantic failure, or, if it ever does succeed, it will come too
+late to help us. Just our infernal luck! And now the question is, what
+is going to be done? You'll have to marry that fellow, Violet. It's
+absolutely the only thing for you to do. And I--I suppose I must
+emigrate."
+
+The girl did not turn her head. There was something tense about her
+attitude.
+
+"I could emigrate too, Jerry," she said, in a low voice.
+
+"You!" Her brother turned more fully round. "You!" he said again. "Are
+you mad, I wonder?"
+
+She made a slight gesture of protest.
+
+"Why shouldn't I?" she said. "At least, we should be together."
+
+He uttered a grim laugh, and rose.
+
+"Look here, Violet," he said, and took her lightly by the shoulders.
+"Don't be a little fool! You know as well as I do that you weren't made
+to rough it. The suggestion is so absurd that it isn't worth discussion.
+You'll have to marry Kenyon. It's as plain as daylight; and I only wish
+my perplexities were as easily solved. Come! He isn't such a bad sort;
+and, anyhow, he's better than starvation."
+
+The girl stood up slowly and faced him. Her eyes were wild, like the
+eyes of a hunted creature.
+
+"I hate him, Jerry! I hate him!" she declared vehemently.
+
+"Nonsense!" said Jerry. "He's no worse than a hundred others. You'd hate
+any one under these abominable circumstances!"
+
+She shuddered, as if in confirmation of this statement.
+
+"I'd rather do anything," she said; "anything, down to selling matches
+in the gutter."
+
+"Which isn't a practical point of view," pointed out Jerry. "You would
+get pneumonia with the first east wind, and die."
+
+"Well, then, I'd rather die." The girl's voice trembled with the
+intensity of her preference. But her brother frowned again at the words.
+
+"Don't!" he said abruptly. "For Heaven's sake, don't be unreasonable!
+Can't you see that it's my greatest worry to get you provided for? You
+must marry. You can't live on charity."
+
+Her cheeks flamed.
+
+"But I can work," she began. "I can----"
+
+He interrupted her impatiently.
+
+"You can't. You haven't the strength, and probably not the ability
+either. It's no use talking this sort of rot. It's simply silly, and
+makes things worse for both of us. It's all very well to say you'd
+rather starve, but when it comes to starving, as it will--as it
+must--you'll think differently. Look here, old girl: if you won't marry
+this fellow for your own sake, do it for mine. I hate it just as much as
+you do. But it's bearable, at least. And--there are some things I can't
+bear."
+
+He stopped. She was clinging to him closely, beseechingly; but he stood
+firm and unyielding, his young face set in hard lines.
+
+"Will you do it?" he said, as she did not speak.
+
+"Jerry!" she said imploringly.
+
+He stiffened to meet the appeal he dreaded. But it did not come. Her
+eyes were raised to his, and she seemed to read there the futility of
+argument. She remained absolutely still for some seconds, then abruptly
+she turned from him and burst into tears.
+
+"Don't! don't!" he said.
+
+He stepped close to her, as she leaned upon the mantelpiece, all the
+hardness gone from his face. Had she known it, the battle at that moment
+might have been hers; for he would have insisted no longer. He was on
+the brink of abandoning the conflict. But her anguish of weeping
+possessed her to the exclusion of everything else.
+
+"Oh, Jerry, go away!" she sobbed passionately. "You're a perfect beast,
+and I'm another! But I'll do it, I'll do it--for your sake, as I would
+do anything in the world, though it's quite true that I'd rather
+starve!"
+
+And Jerry, rather pale, but otherwise complete master of himself, patted
+her shoulder with a hasty assumption of kindly approval; and told her
+that he had always known she was a brick.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+"Heaven knows I don't aspire to be any particular ornament to society,"
+said Dick Kenyon modestly. "Never have; though I've been pretty well
+everything else that you can think of, from cow-puncher to millionaire.
+And I can tell you there's a dashed deal more fun in being the first
+than the last of those. Still, I think I could make you comfortable if
+you would have me; though, if you don't want to, just say so, and I'll
+shunt till further notice."
+
+It was thus that he made his proposal to the girl of his choice; and no
+one, hearing it, would have guessed that beneath his calm, even
+phlegmatic, exterior, the man was in a ferment of anxiety. He spoke with
+a slight nasal twang that seemed to emphasise his deliberation, and his
+face was mask-like in its composure. Of beauty he had none.
+
+His eyes were extraordinarily blue, but the lids drooped over them so
+heavily that his expression was habitually drowsy, even stolid. In
+build, he was short and thick-set, like a bulldog; and there seemed to
+be something of a bulldog's strength in the breadth of his chest, though
+there was no hint of energy about him to warrant its development.
+
+The girl he addressed did not look at him. She sat perfectly still, with
+her hands fast clasped together, and her eyes, wide and despairing,
+fixed upon the fire in front of her. She was wondering desperately how
+long she could possibly endure it. Yet his last words were somehow not
+what she had expected from this man whose manner always seemed to hint
+that at least half of creation was at his sole disposal. They expressed
+a consideration on his part that she had been far from anticipating. He
+waited for an interval of several seconds for her to speak. He was
+standing up on the hearthrug, his ill-proportioned figure thrown into
+strong relief by the firelight behind him. At last, as she quite failed
+to answer him, he drew a pace nearer to her.
+
+"Don't mind me, Miss Trelevan," he said, in a drawl so exaggerated that
+she thought it must be intentional. "Take your time. There's no hurry.
+I've always thought it was a bit hard on a woman to expect her to answer
+an offer of marriage offhand. Perhaps you'd rather write?"
+
+"No," she said, rather breathlessly. "No!" Then, after a pause, still
+more breathlessly: "Won't you sit down?"
+
+He stepped away from her again, to her infinite relief, and sat down a
+couple of yards away.
+
+There ensued a most painful silence, during which the battle in the
+girl's heart raged fiercely. Then at length she took her resolution in
+both hands, and faced him. He was not looking at her. He sat quite
+still, and she fancied that his eyes were closed; but when she spoke he
+turned his head, and she realised that she had been mistaken.
+
+"I can give you your answer now," she said, making the greatest effort
+of her life. "It is--it is--yes."
+
+She rose with the words, almost as if in preparation for headlong
+flight. But Dick Kenyon kept his seat. He leaned forward a little, his
+blue eyes lifted to her face.
+
+"Your final word, Miss Trelevan?" he asked her, in his cool, easy twang.
+
+She wrung her hands together with an unconscious gesture of despair.
+
+"Yes," she said; and added feverishly: "of course."
+
+"You think you've met the right man?" he pursued, his tone one of gentle
+inquiry, as if he were speaking to a child.
+
+She nodded. She was white to the lips.
+
+"Yes," she said again.
+
+He got up then with extreme deliberation.
+
+"Well," he said, a curious smile flickering about his mouth, "that's
+about the biggest surprise I've ever had. And I don't mind telling you
+so. Sure now that you're not making a mistake?"
+
+She uttered a little laugh that sounded hysterical.
+
+"Oh, don't!" she said. "Don't! I have given you my answer!"
+
+"And I'm to take you seriously?" questioned Kenyon. "Very well. I will.
+But you mustn't be frightened."
+
+He stretched out a steady hand, and laid it on her shoulder. She
+quivered at his touch, but she did not attempt to resist.
+
+"Don't be scared," he said very gently. "I know I'm as ugly as blazes;
+at least, I've been told so, but there's nothing else to alarm you if
+you can once get over that."
+
+There was a note of quaint raillery in his voice. He did not try to draw
+her to him. Yet she was conscious of a strength that did battle with her
+half-instinctive aversion--a strength that might have compelled, but
+preferred to attract.
+
+Unwillingly, at length, she looked at him, meeting his eyes,
+good-humouredly critical, watching her.
+
+"I am not frightened," she said, with an effort. "It's only that--just
+at first--till I get used to it--it feels rather strange."
+
+There was unconscious pleading in her voice. He took his hand from her
+shoulder, looking at her with his queer, speculative smile.
+
+"I don't want to hustle you any," he said. "But if that's all the
+trouble, I guess I know a remedy."
+
+Violet drew back sharply.
+
+"Oh, no!" she said. "No!"
+
+She was terrified for the moment lest he should desire to put his remedy
+to the test. But he made no movement in her direction, and another sort
+of misgiving assailed her.
+
+"Don't be vexed," she said unsteadily. "I--I know I'm despicable. But I
+shall get over it--if you will give me time."
+
+"Bless your heart, I'm not vexed," said Kenyon. "I'm only wondering,
+don't you know, how you brought yourself to say 'Yes' to me. But no
+matter, dear. I'm grateful all the same."
+
+He held out his hand to her, and she laid hers nervously within it. She
+could not meet his eyes any longer.
+
+Kenyon stooped and put his lips to her cold fingers.
+
+"Jove!" he said softly. "I'm in luck to-day."
+
+And after that he sat down again, and began to behave like an ordinary
+visitor.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+"Great Scotland!" said Jerry.
+
+He looked up from a letter, and gazed at his sister with starting eyes.
+
+"Oh, what?" she exclaimed in alarm.
+
+He sprang up impetuously, and went round the table to her. They were
+breakfasting in the tiny flat which was theirs for but three short
+months longer.
+
+"Guess!" he said. "No, don't! I can't wait. It's the family luck, old
+girl, turned at last! It's the original gorgeous chance again with a
+practical dead certainty pushing behind. It's the Winhalla Railway
+turning up trumps just in time."
+
+And, with a whoop that might have been heard from garret to basement,
+Jerry swept his sister from her chair, and waltzed her giddily round the
+little room till she cried breathlessly for mercy.
+
+"Oh, but do tell me!" she gasped, when he set her down again. "I want to
+understand, Jerry. Don't be so mad. Tell me exactly what has happened!"
+
+"I'll tell you," said Jerry, sitting down on the tablecloth. "It's a
+letter from Gardner--my broker and man of business generally--written
+last night to tell me that one of these swaggering capitalists has got
+hold of the Winhalla Railway scheme, and is going to make things hum.
+Shares are going up already; and they'll run sky high by the end of the
+week. It's bound to be all right. It was always sound enough. It only
+wanted capital. He doesn't tell me the bounder's name, but that's no
+matter. I don't want to go into partnership. I shall sell, sell, sell,
+at the top of the boom. Gardner's to be trusted. He'll know--and
+then--and then----"
+
+"Yes; what does it mean?" the girl broke in. "I want to know exactly,
+Jerry!"
+
+"Mean?" he echoed, his hands upon her shoulders. "It means emancipation,
+wealth, everything we've lost back again, and more to it! Now do you
+understand?"
+
+She gasped for breath. She had turned very pale.
+
+"Oh, Jerry!" she said tragically. "Jerry, why didn't this happen
+before?"
+
+He stared at her for a moment. Then, as understanding came to him, he
+frowned with swift impatience.
+
+"Oh, that must be broken off!" he said. "You can't marry that fellow
+now. Why should you?"
+
+Violet shook her head hopelessly.
+
+"I've promised," she said; "promised to marry him at the end of next
+month."
+
+Jerry jumped up impulsively.
+
+"But that's soon arranged," he declared. "Leave it to me. I'll explain."
+
+"How can you?" questioned Violet.
+
+"I shall put it on a purely business footing," he returned airily.
+"Don't you worry yourself. He isn't the sort of chap to take it to
+heart. You know that as well as I do. Perhaps it might be as well to
+wait till the end of the week and make sure of things, though, before I
+say anything."
+
+But at this point Violet gave him the biggest surprise he had ever
+known. She sprang to her feet with flashing eyes.
+
+"Indeed you won't, Jerry!" she exclaimed. "You will tell him
+to-day--this morning--and end it definitely. Never mind what happens
+afterwards. I won't carry the dishonourable bargain to that length. I've
+little enough self-respect left, but what there is of it I'll keep!"
+
+"Heavens above!" ejaculated Jerry, in amazement. "What's the matter now?
+I was only thinking of you, after all."
+
+"I know you were," she answered passionately. "But you're to think of
+something greater than my physical welfare. You're to think of my
+miserable little rag of honour, and do what you can for that, if you
+really want to help me!"
+
+And with that she went quickly from the room and left him to breakfast
+alone.
+
+He marvelled for a little at her agitation, and then the contents of the
+letter absorbed him again. He had better go and see Gardner, he
+reflected; and then, if the thing really seemed secure, he would take
+Dick Kenyon on his way back--perhaps lunch with him, and explain matters
+in a friendly way. There was certainly nothing for Violet to make a fuss
+about. He was quite fully convinced that the fellow wouldn't care.
+Marriage was a mere incident to men of his stamp.
+
+So, cheerily at length, having disposed of his breakfast, he rose,
+collected his correspondence, which consisted for the most part of
+bills, and, whistling light-heartedly, took his departure.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+"Now," said Dick Kenyon, in his easy, self-assured accents, "sit down
+right there, sonny, and tell me what's on your mind."
+
+He pressed Jerry into his most comfortable chair with hospitable force.
+
+Jerry submitted, because he could not help himself, rather than from
+choice. Patronage from Dick Kenyon was something of an offence to his
+ever-ready pride.
+
+As for Dick, he had not apparently the smallest suspicion of any latent
+resentment of this nature in his visitor's mind. He brought out a box of
+choice cigars, and set them at Jerry's elbow. They had just lunched
+together at Kenyon's rooms; and it had been quite obvious to the latter
+that Jerry had been preoccupied throughout the meal.
+
+Having furnished his guest with everything he could think of to ensure
+his comfort, he proceeded deliberately to provide for his own.
+
+Jerry was not quite at his ease. He sat with the unlighted cigar between
+his fingers, considering with bent brows. Kenyon looked at him at last
+with a faint smile.
+
+"If I didn't know it to be an impossibility," he said, "I should say you
+were shying at something."
+
+Jerry turned towards him with an air of resolution.
+
+"Look here, Kenyon," he said, in his slightly superior tones, "I have
+really come to talk to you about your engagement to my sister."
+
+He paused, aware of a change in Kenyon's expression, but wholly unable
+to discover of what it consisted.
+
+"What about it?" said Kenyon.
+
+He was on his feet, searching the mantelpiece for an ash-tray. His face
+was turned from Jerry, but could he have seen it fully, it would have
+told him nothing.
+
+Jerry went on, with a strong effort to maintain his ease of manner:
+
+"We've been thinking it over, and we have come to the conclusion that
+perhaps, after all, it was a mistake. In short, my sister has thought
+better of it; and, as she is naturally sensitive on the subject, I
+undertook to tell you so, I don't suppose it will make any particular
+difference to you. There are plenty of girls who would jump at the
+chance of marrying your millions. But, of course, if you wish it, some
+compensation could be made."
+
+Jerry paused again. He had placed the matter on the most businesslike
+footing that had occurred to him. Of course, the man must realise that
+he was a rank outsider, and would understand that it was the best
+method.
+
+Kenyon heard him out in dead silence. He had found the ash-tray, but he
+did not turn his head. After several dumb seconds, he walked across the
+room to the window, and stood there. Finally he spoke.
+
+"I don't suppose," he said, in his calm, expressionless drawl, "that you
+have ever had a cowhiding in your life, have you?"
+
+"What?" said Jerry.
+
+He stared at Kenyon in frank amazement. Was the man mad?
+
+"Never had a cowhiding in your life, eh?" repeated Kenyon, without
+moving.
+
+"What do you mean?" exclaimed Jerry.
+
+Kenyon remained motionless.
+
+"I mean," he said calmly, "that I've thrashed a man to a pulp before now
+for a good deal less than you have just offered me. It's my special
+treatment for curs. Suits 'em wonderfully. And suits me, too."
+
+Jerry sprang to his feet in a whirl of wrath, but before he could utter
+a word Kenyon suddenly turned.
+
+"Go back to your sister," he said, in curt, stern tones, "and tell her
+from me that I will discuss this matter with her alone. If she intends
+to throw me over, she must come to me herself and tell me so. Go now!"
+
+But Jerry stood halting between an open blaze of passion and equally
+open discomfiture. He longed to hurl defiance in Kenyon's face, but some
+hidden force restrained him. There was that about the man at that moment
+which compelled submission. And so, at length, he turned without another
+word, and walked straight from the room with as fine a dignity as he
+could muster. By some remarkable means, Dick Kenyon had managed to get
+the best of the encounter.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+Not the next day, nor the next, did Violet Trelevan summon up courage to
+face her outraged lover, and ask for her freedom. Jerry did not tell her
+precisely what had passed, but she gathered from the information he
+vouchsafed that Kenyon had not treated the matter peaceably. She
+wondered a little how Jerry had approached it, and told herself with a
+beating heart that she would have to take her own line of action.
+
+Nevertheless, for a full week she did nothing, and at the end of that
+week the flutter in the Winhalla Railway shares had subsided completely,
+and all Jerry's high hopes were dead. From day to day he had tried to
+console himself and her with the reflection that a speculation of that
+sort was bound to fluctuate, but, in the end, when the shares went down
+to zero, he was forced to own that he had been too sanguine. It had been
+but the last flicker before extinction. The capitalist had evidently
+thought better of risking his money on such a venture.
+
+"And I was a gaping, weak-kneed idiot not to sell for what I could get!"
+he told his sister. "But it's just our luck. I might have known nothing
+decent could ever happen to us!"
+
+It was on that evening, when the outlook was at its blackest, that
+Violet wrote at last, without consulting Jerry, to the man in whose
+hands lay her freedom.
+
+It was a short epistle, and humbly worded, for she realised that this,
+at least, was his due.
+
+"I want you," she wrote, "to forgive me, if you can, for the wrong I
+have done you, and to set me free. I accepted you upon impulse, I am
+ashamed to say, for the sake of your money. But the shame would be even
+greater if I did not tell you so. I do not know what view you will take,
+but my own is that, in releasing me, you will not lose anything that is
+worth having."
+
+The answer to this appeal came the next day by hand:
+
+"May I see you alone at your flat at five o'clock?"
+
+She had not expected it, and she felt for an instant as if a master hand
+had touched her, sending the blood tingling through her veins like fire.
+She sent a reply in the affirmative; and then set herself to face the
+longest day she had ever lived through.
+
+She sat alone during the afternoon, striving desperately to nerve
+herself for the ordeal. But strive as she might, the fact remained that
+she was horribly, painfully frightened. There was something about this
+man which it seemed futile to resist, something that dominated her,
+something against which it hurt her to fight.
+
+She heard his ring punctually upon the stroke of five, and she went
+herself to answer it.
+
+He greeted her with his usual serenity of manner.
+
+"All alone?" he asked, as he followed her into the little drawing-room
+in which he had proposed to her so short a time before.
+
+She assented nervously.
+
+"Jerry went into the city. He won't be back yet."
+
+"That's kind of you," said Kenyon quietly.
+
+She did not ask him to sit down. They faced each other on the hearthrug.
+The strong glare of the electric light showed him that she was very
+pale.
+
+Abruptly he thrust out his hand to her.
+
+"You must forgive me for bullying your brother the other day," he said.
+"Really, he deserved it."
+
+She glanced up quickly.
+
+"Jerry doesn't understand," she said.
+
+He kept his hand outstretched though she did not take it.
+
+"I don't understand, either," he said.
+
+"Do you really want to shake hands with me?" she murmured, her voice
+very low.
+
+"I want to hold your hand in mine, if I may," he answered simply. "I
+think it will help to solve the difficulty. Thank you! Yes; I thought
+you were trembling. Now, why, I wonder?"
+
+She did not answer him. Her head was bent.
+
+"Don't!" he said gently. "There is no cause. Didn't I tell you I would
+shunt if you didn't want me?"
+
+Still she was silent, her hand lying passive in his.
+
+"Come!" he said. "I want to understand, don't you know. That note of
+yours. You say in it that you accepted me for the sake of my money. Even
+so. But I reckon that is more a reason for sticking to me than for
+throwing me over."
+
+He paused, but her head only drooped a little lower.
+
+"Doesn't that reason still exist?" he asked her, point blank.
+
+She shivered at the direct question, but she answered it.
+
+"Yes; it does. And that's why I'm ashamed to go on."
+
+"Why ashamed?" he asked. "How do you know my reason for wanting to marry
+you is as good since I never told you what it was?"
+
+She looked up then, suddenly and swiftly, and caught a curious glint in
+the blue eyes that watched her.
+
+"I do know," she said, speaking quickly, impulsively. "And that's why--I
+can't bear--that you should despise me."
+
+"Ah!" he said. "Do you really care what an outsider like myself thinks
+of you?"
+
+The colour flamed suddenly in her white face, but he went on in his
+quiet drawl as if he had not seen it:
+
+"If I thought it was for your happiness, believe me, I would set you
+free. But, so far, you haven't given me any reason that could justify
+such a step. Can't you think of one? Honestly, now?"
+
+She shook her head. Her eyes were full of blinding tears.
+
+"What is it, then?" urged Kenyon. And suddenly his voice was as soft as
+a woman's. "Has the right man turned up unexpectedly, after all? Is it
+for his sake?"
+
+"Oh, don't!" she cried passionately. "Don't! You hurt me!"
+
+And, turning sharply from him, she hid her face, and broke into
+anguished weeping.
+
+Kenyon stood quite still for perhaps ten seconds; then he moved close to
+her, and put his arm round the slight, sobbing figure.
+
+She did not start or attempt to resist him.
+
+"There, there!" he whispered soothingly. "I knew there was a reason.
+Don't cry, dear! It will be all right--all right. Never mind the beastly
+money. There's going to be a big boom in the Winhalla Railway shares,
+and you'll make your fortune over it. Yes; I know all about that. A
+friend told me. There's a big capitalist pushing behind. They have gone
+down this week, but they are going to rise like a spring tide next. And
+then--you'll be free to marry the right man, eh, dear? I sha'n't stand
+in your way. I'll even come and dance at the wedding, if you'll have
+me."
+
+She uttered a muffled laugh through her tears, and turned slightly
+towards him within the encircling arm.
+
+"I hope you will," she murmured. "Because--because--" She broke off, and
+became silent.
+
+Dick Kenyon's arm did not slacken.
+
+"If you could make it convenient to finish that sentence of yours, I'd
+be real grateful," he observed, at length.
+
+She lifted her face from her hands, and looked him in the eyes. Her own
+were shining.
+
+"Because," she said unsteadily, "I couldn't marry the right man--if you
+weren't there."
+
+He looked straight back at her without a hint of emotion in his heavy
+eyes.
+
+"Quite sure of that?" he asked.
+
+And she laughed again tremulously as she made reply.
+
+"Quite sure, Dick," she said softly, "though I've only just found it
+out."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Jerry, tearing in a little later, brimful of city news, noticed that his
+sister's face was brighter than usual, but failed, in his excitement, to
+perceive a visitor in the room, the visitor not troubling himself to
+rise at his entrance.
+
+"News, Vi!" he shouted. "Gorgeous news! The Winhalla Railway is turning
+up trumps! The shares are simply flying up. I told Gardner I'd sell at
+fifty, but he says they are worth holding on to, for they'll go above
+that. He vows they're safe. And who do you think is the capitalist
+that's pushing behind? Why, Kenyon!"
+
+He broke off abruptly at this point as Kenyon himself arose leisurely
+with a serene smile and outstretched hand.
+
+"Exactly--Kenyon!" he said. "But if you think he's a rank bad speculator
+like yourself, sonny, you're mistaken. I didn't make my money that way,
+and I don't reckon to lose it that way either. But Gardner's right.
+Those shares are safe. They aren't going down again ever any more."
+
+He turned to the girl on his other side, and laid his free hand on her
+shoulder.
+
+"And I guess you'll forgive me for distressing you," he said, "when I
+tell you why I did it."
+
+"Well, why, Dick?" she questioned, her face turned to his.
+
+"I just thought I'd like to know, dear," he drawled, "if there wasn't
+something bigger than money to be got out of this deal. And--are you
+listening, Jerry?--I found there was!"
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                           The Knight Errant
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE APPEAL
+
+
+The Poor Relation hoisted one leg over the arm of his chair, and gazed
+contemplatively at the ceiling.
+
+"Now, I wonder whom I ought to scrag for this," he mused aloud.
+
+A crumpled newspaper lay under his hand, a certain paragraph uppermost
+that was strongly scored with red ink. He had read it twice already and
+after a thoughtful pause he proceeded to read it again.
+
+"A marriage has been arranged and will shortly take place between Cecil
+Mordaunt Rivington and Ernestine, fourth daughter of Lady Florence
+Cardwell."
+
+"Why Ernestine, I wonder?" murmured the Poor Relation. "Thought she was
+still in short frocks. Used to be rather a jolly little kid. Wonder what
+she thinks of the arrangement?"
+
+A faint smile cocked one corner of his mouth--a very plain mouth which
+he wore no moustache to hide.
+
+"And Lady Florence! Ye gods! Wonder what she thinks!"
+
+The smile developed into a snigger, and vanished at a breath.
+
+"But it's really infernally awkward," he declared. "Ought one to go and
+apologise for what one hasn't done? Really, I don't know if I dare!"
+
+Again, as one searching for inspiration, he read the brief paragraph.
+
+"It looks to me, Cecil Mordaunt, as if you are in for a very warm time,"
+he remarked at the end of this final inspection. "Such a time as you
+haven't had since you left Rugby. If you take my advice you'll sit tight
+like a sensible chap and leave this business to engineer itself. No good
+ever came of meddling."
+
+With which practical reflection he rose to fill and light a briar pipe,
+his inseparable companion, before grappling with his morning
+correspondence.
+
+This lay in a neat pile at his elbow, and after a ruminative pause
+devoted to the briar pipe, he applied himself deliberately to its
+consideration.
+
+The first two he examined and tossed aside with a bored expression. The
+third seemed to excite his interest. It was directed in a nervous,
+irregular hand that had tried too hard to be firm, and had spluttered
+the ink in consequence. The envelope was of a pearly grey tint. The Poor
+Relation sniffed at it, and turned up his nose.
+
+Nevertheless, he opened the missive with a promptitude that testified to
+a certain amount of curiosity.
+
+"Dear Knight Errant," he read, in the same desperate handwriting. "Do
+you remember once years ago coming to the rescue of a lady in distress
+who was chased by a bull? The lady has never forgotten it. Will you do
+the same again for the same lady to-day, and earn her undying gratitude?
+If so, will you confirm the statement in the _Morning Post_ as often and
+as convincingly as you can till further notice? I wonder if you will? I
+do wonder. I couldn't ask you if you were anything but poor and a sort
+of relation as well.--Yours, _in extremis_,
+
+"ERNESTINE CARDWELL.
+
+"P.S.--Of course, don't do it if you would really rather not."
+
+"Thank you, Ernestine!" said the Poor Relation. "That last sentence of
+yours might be described as the saving clause. I would very much rather
+not, if the truth be told; which it probably never will be. As you have
+shrewdly foreseen, the subtlety of your '_in extremis_' draws me in
+spite of myself. I have seen you _in extremis_ before, and I must admit
+the spectacle made something of an impression."
+
+He read the letter again with characteristic deliberation, lay back
+awhile with pale blue eyes fixed unswervingly upon the ceiling, and
+finally rose and betook himself to his writing-table.
+
+"Dear Lady in Distress," he wrote. "I am pleased to note that even poor
+relations have their uses. As your third cousin removed to the sixth or
+seventh degree, I shall be most happy to serve you. Pray regard me as
+unreservedly at your disposal. Awaiting your further commands.--Your
+devoted
+
+"KNIGHT ERRANT."
+
+This letter he directed to Miss Ernestine Cardwell and despatched by
+special messenger. Then, with a serene countenance, he glanced through
+his remaining correspondence, stretched himself, yawned, looked out of
+the window, and finally sauntered forth to his club.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+CONGRATULATIONS
+
+
+"Ye gods! I should think Lady Florence is feelin' pretty furious. The
+fellow hasn't a penny, and isn't even an honourable. I thought all her
+daughters were to be princesses or duchesses or ranees or somethin'
+imposin'."
+
+Archie Fielding, gossip-in-chief of the Junior Sherwood Club, beat a
+rousing tattoo on the table, and began to whistle Mendelssohn's "Wedding
+March."
+
+"Wonder if he will want me to be best man," he proceeded. "It'll be the
+seventh time this season. Think I shall make a small charge for my
+services for the future. Not to poor old Cecil, though. He's always
+hard-up. I wonder what they'll live on. I'll bet Miss Ernestine hasn't
+been brought up on cheese and smoked herrings."
+
+"Which is Ernestine?" asked another member, generally known at the club
+as "that ass Bray." "The little one, isn't it; the one that laughs?"
+
+"The cheeky one--yes," said Archie. "I saw her ridin' in the Park with
+Dinghra the other day. Awful brute, Dinghra, if he is a rajah's son."
+
+"Shocking bounder!" said Bray. "But rich--a quality that covers a
+multitude of sins."
+
+"Especially in Lady Florence's estimation," remarked Archie. "She's had
+designs on him ever since Easter. Ernestine is a nice little thing, you
+know, but somehow she hangs fire. A trifle over-independent, I suppose,
+and she has a sharp tongue, too--tells the truth a bit too often, don't
+you know. I don't get on with that sort of girl myself. But I'll swear
+Dinghra is head over ears, the brute. I'd give twenty pounds to punch
+his evil mouth."
+
+"Yes, he's pretty foul, certainly. But apparently she isn't for him. I'm
+surprised that Cecil has taken the trouble to compete. He's kept mighty
+quiet about it. I've met him hardly anywhere this season."
+
+"Oh, he's a lazy animal! But he always does things on the quiet; it is
+his nature to. He's the sort of chap that thinks for about twenty years,
+and then goes straight and does the one and only thing that no one else
+would dream of doin'. I rather fancy, for all his humdrum ways, he would
+be a difficult man to thwart. I'd give a good deal to know how he got
+over Lady Florence, though. He has precious little to recommend him as a
+son-in-law."
+
+At this point some one kicked him violently, and he looked up to see the
+subject of his harangue sauntering up the room.
+
+"Are you talking about me?" he inquired, as he came. "Don't let me
+interrupt, I beg. I know I'm an edifying topic, eh, Archibald?"
+
+"Oh, don't ask me to praise you to your face," said Archie, quite
+unperturbed. "How are you, old chap? We are all gapin' with amazement
+over this mornin's news. Is it really true? Are we to congratulate?"
+
+"Are you referring to my engagement?" asked the Poor Relation, pausing
+in the middle of the group. "Yes, of course it's true. Do you mean to
+say you were such a pack of dunderheads you didn't see it coming?"
+
+"There wasn't anything to see," protested Archie. "You've been lyin'
+low, you howlin' hypocrite! I always said you were a dark horse."
+
+The Poor Relation smiled upon him tolerantly.
+
+"Can't you call me anything else interesting? It seems to have hurt your
+feelings rather, not being in the know. I can't understand your not
+smelling a rat. Where are your wits, man?"
+
+He tapped Archie's head smartly with his knuckles, and passed on, the
+smile still wrinkling his pale eyes and the forehead above them from
+which the hair was steadily receding towards the top of his skull.
+
+Certainly the gods had not been kind to him in the matter of personal
+beauty, but a certain charm he possessed, notwithstanding, which
+procured for him a well-grounded popularity.
+
+"You'll let me wish you luck, anyway, Rivington," one man said.
+
+"Rather!" echoed Archie. "I hope you'll ask me to your weddin'."
+
+"All of you," said the Poor Relation generously. "It's going to be a
+mountainous affair, and Archie shall officiate as best man."
+
+"When is it to take place?" some one asked.
+
+"Oh, very soon--very soon indeed; actual date not yet fixed. St.
+George's, Hanover Square, of course; and afterwards at Lady Florence
+Cardwell's charming mansion in Park Lane. It'll be a thrilling
+performance altogether." The Poor Relation beamed impartially upon his
+well-wishers. He seemed to be hugely enjoying himself.
+
+"And whither will the happy pair betake themselves after the reception?"
+questioned Archie.
+
+"That, my dear fellow, is not yet quite decided."
+
+"I expect you'll go for a motor tour," said Bray.
+
+But Rivington at once shook his head.
+
+"Nothing of that sort. Couldn't afford it. No, we shall do something
+cheaper and more original than that. I've got an old caravan somewhere;
+that might do. Rather a bright idea, eh, Archie?"
+
+"Depends on the bride," said Archie, looking decidedly dubious.
+
+"Eh? Think so? We shall have to talk it over." The Poor Relation
+subsided into a chair, and stretched himself with a sigh. "There are
+such a lot of little things to be considered when you begin to get
+married," he murmured, as he pulled out his pipe.
+
+"Some one wanting you on the telephone, sir," announced one of the club
+attendants at his elbow, a few minutes later.
+
+"Eh? Who is it? Tell 'em I can't be bothered. No, don't. I'm coming."
+
+Laboriously he hoisted himself out of his chair, regretfully he knocked
+the glowing tobacco out of his pipe, heavy-footed he betook him to the
+telephone.
+
+"Hullo!"
+
+"Oh!" said a woman's voice. "Is that you?"
+
+"Yes. Who do you want?"
+
+"Mr. Rivington--Cecil Mordaunt Rivington." The syllables came with great
+distinctness. They seemed to have an anxious ring.
+
+"Yes, I'm here," said the owner of the name. "Who are you?"
+
+"I'm Ernestine. Can you hear me?"
+
+"First-rate! What can I do for you?"
+
+There was a pause, then:
+
+"I had your letter," said the voice, "and I'm tremendously grateful to
+you. I was afraid you might be vexed."
+
+"Not a bit of it," said Rivington genially. "Anything to oblige."
+
+"Thanks so much! It was great cheek, I know, but I've had such a horrid
+fright. I couldn't think of any other way out, and you were the only
+possible person that occurred to me. You were very kind to me once, a
+long time ago. It's awfully decent of you not to mind."
+
+"Please don't!" said Rivington. "That sort of thing always upsets me.
+Look here, can't we meet somewhere and talk things over? It would
+simplify matters enormously."
+
+"Yes, it would. That is what I want to arrange. Could you manage some
+time this afternoon? Please say you can!"
+
+"Of course I can," said Rivington promptly. "What place?"
+
+"I don't know. It must be somewhere right away where no one will know
+us."
+
+"How would the city do? That's nice and private."
+
+A faint laugh came to his ear. "Yes; but where?"
+
+Rivington briefly considered.
+
+"St. Paul's Cathedral, under the dome, three o'clock. Will that do?"
+
+"Yes, I'll be there. You won't fail?"
+
+"Not if I live," said Rivington. "Anything else?"
+
+"No; only a million thanks! I'll explain everything when we meet."
+
+"All right. Good-bye!"
+
+As he hung up the receiver, a heavy frown drove the kindliness out of
+his face.
+
+"What have they been doing to the child?" he said. "It's a pretty
+desperate step for a girl to take. At least it might be, it would be, if
+I were any one else."
+
+Suddenly the smile came back and drew afresh the kindly, humorous lines
+about his eyes.
+
+"She seems to remember me rather well," he murmured. "She certainly was
+a jolly little kid."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE LADY IN DISTRESS
+
+
+The afternoon sunlight streamed golden through the cathedral as Cecil
+Rivington passed into its immense silence. He moved with quiet and
+leisurely tread; it was not his way to hurry. The great clock was just
+booming the hour.
+
+There were not many people about. A few stray footsteps wandered through
+the stillness, a few vague whispers floated to and fro. But the peace of
+the place lay like a spell, a dream atmosphere in which every sound was
+hushed.
+
+Rivington passed down the nave till he reached the central space under
+the great dome. There he paused, and gazed straight upwards into the
+giddy height above him.
+
+As he stood thus calmly contemplative, a light step sounded on the
+pavement close to him, and a low voice spoke.
+
+"Oh, here you are! It's good of you to be so punctual."
+
+He lowered his eyes slowly as if he were afraid of giving them a shock,
+and focussed them upon the speaker.
+
+"I am never late," he remarked. "And I am never early."
+
+Then he smiled kindly and held out his hand.
+
+"Hullo, Chirpy!" he said. "It is Chirpy, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, it is Chirpy. But I never expected you to remember that."
+
+"I remember most things," said Rivington.
+
+His pale eyes dwelt contemplatively on the girl before him. She was very
+slim and young, and plainly very nervous. There was no beauty about
+Ernestine Cardwell, only a certain wild grace peculiarly charming, and a
+quick wit that some people found too shrewd. When she laughed she was a
+child. Her laugh was irresistible, and there was magic in her smile, a
+baffling, elusive magic too transient to be defined. Very sudden and
+very fleeting was her smile. Rivington saw it for an instant only as she
+met his look.
+
+"Do you know," she said, colouring deeply. "I thought you were much
+older than you are."
+
+"I am fifty," said Rivington.
+
+But she shook her head.
+
+"It is very good of you to say so."
+
+"Not at all," smiled Rivington. "You, I fancy, must be about twenty-one.
+How long since the bull episode?"
+
+"Oh, do you remember that, too?" She uttered a faint laugh.
+
+"Vividly," said Rivington. "I have a lively memory of the fleetness of
+your retreat and the violence of your embrace when the danger was over."
+
+She laughed again.
+
+"It was years and years ago--quite six, I should think."
+
+"Quite, I should say," agreed Rivington. "But we have met since then,
+surely?"
+
+"Oh yes, casually. But we are not in the same set, are we? Some one once
+told me you were very Bohemian."
+
+"Who was it? I should like to shoot him!" said Rivington.
+
+At which she laughed again, and then threw a guilty glance around.
+
+"I don't think this is a very good place for a talk."
+
+"Not if you want to do much laughing," said Rivington. "Come along to
+the tea-shop round the corner. No one will disturb us there."
+
+They turned side by side, and began to walk back. The girl moved quickly
+as though not wholly at her ease. She glanced at her companion once or
+twice, but it was not till they finally emerged at the head of the steps
+that she spoke.
+
+"I am wondering more and more how I ever had the impertinence to do it."
+
+"There's no great risk in asking a poor relation to do anything," said
+Rivington consolingly.
+
+"Ah, but I did it without asking." There was an unmistakable note of
+distress in her quick rejoinder. "I was at my wits' end. I didn't know
+what on earth to do. And it came to me suddenly like an inspiration. But
+I wish I hadn't now, with all my heart."
+
+Rivington turned his mild eyes upon her.
+
+"My dear child, don't be silly!" he said. "I am delighted to be of use
+for a change. I don't do much worth the doing, being more or less of a
+loafer. It is good for me to exercise my ingenuity now and then. It only
+gets rusty lying by."
+
+She put out her hand impulsively and squeezed his.
+
+"You're awfully nice to me," she said. "It's only a temporary expedient,
+of course. I couldn't ask you first--there wasn't time. But I'll set you
+free as soon as I possibly can. Have people been talking much?"
+
+"Rather! They are enjoying it immensely. I have had to go ahead like
+steam. I've even engaged a best man."
+
+She threw him a startled look.
+
+"Oh, but----"
+
+"No, don't be alarmed," he said reassuringly. "It's best to take the
+bull by the horns, believe me. The more fuss you make at the outset, the
+quicker it will be over. People will be taking us for granted in a
+week."
+
+"You think so?" she said doubtfully. "I can't think what mother will
+say. I don't dare think."
+
+"Is your mother away, then?"
+
+"Yes, in Paris for a few days. I couldn't have done it if she had been
+at home. I don't know quite what I should have done." She broke off with
+a sudden shudder. "I've had a horrid fright," she said again.
+
+"Come and have some tea," suggested Rivington practically.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+A COUNCIL OF WAR
+
+
+They had tea in a secluded corner, well removed from all prying eyes.
+Gradually, as the minutes passed, the girl's manner became more assured.
+
+When at length he leaned his elbows on the table and said, "Tell me all
+about it," she was ready.
+
+She leaned towards him, and dropped her voice.
+
+"You know Mr. Dinghra Singh? I'm sure you do. Every one does."
+
+"Yes, I know him. They call him Nana Sahib at the clubs."
+
+She shuddered again.
+
+"I used to like him rather. He has a wicked sort of fascination, you
+know. But I loathe him now; I abhor him. And--I am terrified at him."
+
+She stopped. Rivington said nothing. There was not much expression in
+his eyes. Without seeming to scan very closely, they rested on her face.
+
+After a moment, in a whisper, she continued:
+
+"He follows me about perpetually. I meet him everywhere. He looks at me
+with horrid eyes. I know, without seeing, the instant he comes into the
+room."
+
+She paused. Rivington still said nothing.
+
+"He is very rich, you know," she went on, with an effort. "He will be
+Rajah of Ferosha some day. And, of course, every one is very nice to him
+in consequence. I never was that. Don't think it! But I used to laugh at
+him. It's my way. Most men don't like it. No Englishmen do that I know
+of. But he--this man--is, somehow, different from every one else.
+And--can you believe it?--he is literally stalking me. He sends me
+presents--exquisite things, jewellery, that my mother won't let me
+return. I asked him not to once, and he laughed in my face. He has a
+horrible laugh. He is half-English, too. I believe that makes him worse.
+If he were an out-and-out native he wouldn't be quite so revolting. Of
+course, I see my mother's point of view. Naturally, she would like me to
+be a princess, and, as she says, I can't pick and choose. Which is true,
+you know," she put in quaintly, "for men don't like me as a rule; at
+least, not the marrying sort. I rather think I'm not the marrying sort
+myself. I've never been in love, never once. But I couldn't--I could
+not--marry Dinghra. But it's no good telling him so. The cooler I am to
+him the hotter he seems to get, till--till I'm beginning to wonder how I
+can possibly get away."
+
+The note of distress sounded again in her voice. Very quietly, as though
+in answer to it, Rivington reached out a hand and laid it over hers.
+
+But his eyes never varied as he said:
+
+"Won't you finish?"
+
+She bent her head.
+
+"You'll think me foolish to be so easily scared," she said, a slight
+catch in her voice. "Most women manage to take care of themselves. I
+ought to be able to."
+
+"Please go on," he said. "I don't think you foolish at all."
+
+She continued, without raising her eyes:
+
+"Things have been getting steadily worse. Last week at Lady Villar's
+ball I had to dance with him four times. I tried to refuse, but mother
+was there. She wouldn't hear of it. You know"--appealingly--"she is so
+experienced. She knows how to insist without seeming to, so that, unless
+one makes a scene, one has to yield. I thought each dance that he meant
+to propose, but I just managed to steer clear. I felt absolutely
+delirious the whole time. Most people thought I was enjoying it. Old
+Lady Phillips told me I was looking quite handsome." She laughed a
+little. "Well, after all, there seemed to be no escape, and I got
+desperate. It was like a dreadful nightmare. I went to the opera one
+night, and he came and sat close behind me and talked in whispers. When
+he wasn't talking I knew that he was watching me--gloating over me. It
+was horrible--horrible! Last night I wouldn't go out with the others. I
+simply couldn't face it. And--do you know--he came to me!" She began to
+breathe quickly, unevenly. The hands that lay in Rivington's quiet grasp
+moved with nervous restlessness. "There was no one in the house besides
+the servants," she said. "What could I do? He was admitted before I
+knew. Of course, I ought to have refused to see him, but he was very
+insistent, and I thought it a mistake to seem afraid. So I went to
+him--I went to him."
+
+The words came with a rush. She began to tremble all over. She was
+almost sobbing.
+
+Rivington's fingers closed very slowly, barely perceptibly, till his
+grip was warm and close. "Take your time," he said gently. "It's all
+right, you know--all right."
+
+"Thank you," she whispered. "Well, I saw him. He was in a dangerous--a
+wild-beast mood. He told me I needn't try to run away any longer, for I
+was caught. He said--and I know it was true--that he had obtained my
+mother's full approval and consent. He swore that he wouldn't leave me
+until I promised to marry him. He was terrible, with a sort of
+suppressed violence that appalled me. I tried not to let him see how
+terrified I was. I kept quite quiet and temperate for a long time. I
+told him I could never, never marry him. And each time I said it, he
+smiled and showed his teeth. He was like a tiger. His eyes were
+fiendish. But he, too, kept quiet for ever so long. He tried persuasion,
+he tried flattery. Oh, it was loathsome--loathsome! And then quite
+suddenly he turned savage, and--and threatened me."
+
+She glanced nervously into Rivington's face, but it told her nothing. He
+looked merely thoughtful.
+
+She went on more quietly.
+
+"That drove me desperate, and I exclaimed, hardly thinking, 'I wouldn't
+marry you if you were the only man in the world--which you are not!'
+'Oh!' he said at once. 'There is another man, is there?' He didn't seem
+to have thought that possible. And I--I was simply clutching at
+straws--I told him 'Yes.' It was a lie, you know--the first deliberate
+lie I think I have ever told since I came to years of discretion. There
+isn't another man, or likely to be. That's just the trouble. If there
+were, my mother wouldn't be so angry with me for refusing this chance of
+marriage, brilliant though she thinks it. But I was quite desperate. Do
+you think it was very wrong of me?"
+
+"No," said Rivington deliberately, "I don't. I lie myself--when
+necessary."
+
+"He was furious," she said. "He swore that no other man should stand in
+his way. And then--I don't know how it was; perhaps I wasn't very
+convincing--he began to suspect that I had lied. That drove me into a
+corner. I didn't know what to say or do. And then, quite suddenly, in my
+extremity, I thought of you. I really don't know what made me. I didn't
+so much as know if you were in town. And in a flash I thought of sending
+that announcement to the paper. That would convince him if nothing else
+would, and it would mean at least a temporary respite. It was a mad
+thing to do, I know. But I thought you were elderly and level-headed and
+a confirmed bachelor and--and a sort of cousin as well----"
+
+"To the tenth degree," murmured Rivington.
+
+"So I told him," she hurried on, unheeding, "that we were engaged, and
+it was just going to be announced. When he heard that, he lost his head.
+I really think he was mad for the moment. He sprang straight at me like
+a wild beast, and I--I simply turned and fled. I'm pretty nimble, you
+know, when--when there are mad bulls about." Her quick smile flashed
+across her face and was gone. "That's all," she said. "I tore up to my
+room, and scribbled that paragraph straight away. I dared not wait for
+anything. And then I wrote to you. You had my letter with the paper this
+morning."
+
+"Yes, I had them." Rivington spoke absently. She had a feeling that his
+eyes were fixed upon her without seeing her. "So that's all, is it?" he
+said slowly.
+
+Again nervously her hands moved beneath his.
+
+"I've been very headlong and idiotic," she said impulsively. "I've put
+you in an intolerable position. You must write at once and contradict it
+in the next issue."
+
+"Do you mind not talking nonsense for a minute?" he said mildly. "I
+shall see my way directly."
+
+She dropped into instant silence, sitting tense and mute, scarcely even
+breathing, while the pale blue eyes opposite remained steadily and
+unblinkingly fixed upon her face.
+
+After a few moments he spoke.
+
+"When does your mother return?"
+
+"To-morrow morning." She hesitated for a second; then, "Of course she
+will be furious," she said. "You won't be able to argue with her. No one
+can."
+
+Rivington's eyes looked faintly quizzical.
+
+"I don't propose to try," he said. "She is, as I well know, an adept in
+the gentle art of snubbing. And I am no match for her there. She has,
+moreover, a rooted objection to poor relations, for which I can hardly
+blame her--a prejudice which, however, I am pleased to note that you do
+not share."
+
+He smiled at her with the words, and she flashed him a quick, answering
+smile, though her lips were quivering.
+
+"I am not a bit like my mother," she said. "I was always dad's
+girl--while he lived. It was he who called me Chirpy. No one else ever
+did--but you."
+
+"A great piece of presumption on my part," said Rivington.
+
+"No. I like you to. It makes you seem like an old friend, which is what
+I need just now, more than anything."
+
+"Quite so," said Rivington. "That qualifies me to advise, I suppose. I
+hope you won't be shocked at what I am going to suggest."
+
+She met his eyes with complete confidence. "I shall do it whatever it
+is," she said.
+
+"Don't be rash," he rejoined. "It entails a sacrifice. But it is the
+only thing that occurs to me for the moment. I think if you are wise you
+will leave London to-night."
+
+"Leave London!" she echoed, looking startled.
+
+"Yes. Just drop out for a bit, cut everything, and give this business a
+chance to blow over. Leave a note behind for mamma when she arrives, and
+tell her why. She'll understand."
+
+"But--but--how can I? Dinghra will only follow me, and I shall be more
+at his mercy than ever in the country."
+
+"If he finds you," said Rivington.
+
+"But mother would tell him directly where to look."
+
+"If she knew herself," he returned drily.
+
+"Oh!" She stared at him with eyes of grave doubt. "But," she said, after
+a moment, "I have no money. I can't live on nothing."
+
+"I do," said Rivington. "You can do the same."
+
+She shook her head instantly, though she smiled.
+
+"Not on the same nothing, Mr. Rivington."
+
+He took his hand abruptly from hers.
+
+"Look here, Chirpy," he said; "don't be a snob!"
+
+"I'm not," she protested.
+
+"Yes, you are. It's atrocious to be put in my place by a chit like you.
+I won't put up with it." He frowned at her ferociously. "You weren't
+above asking my help, but if you are above taking it--I've done with
+you."
+
+"Oh, not really!" she pleaded. "It was foolish of me, I admit, because
+you really are one of the family. Please don't scowl so. It doesn't suit
+your style of beauty in the least, and I am sure you wouldn't like to
+spoil a good impression."
+
+But he continued to frown uncompromisingly, till she stretched out a
+conciliatory hand to him across the table.
+
+"Don't be cross, Knight Errant! I know you are only pretending."
+
+"Then don't do it again," he said, relaxing, and pinching her fingers
+somewhat heartlessly. "I'm horribly sensitive on some points. As I was
+saying, it won't hurt you very badly to live on nothing for a bit, even
+if you are a lady of extravagant tastes."
+
+"Oh, but I can work," she said eagerly. "I can change my name, and go
+into a shop."
+
+"Of course," he said, mildly sarcastic. "You will doubtless find your
+vocation sooner or later. But that is not the present point. Now,
+listen! In the county of Hampshire is a little place called
+Weatherbroom--quite a little place, just a hamlet and a post-office.
+Just out of the hamlet is a mill with a few acres of farm land attached.
+It's awfully picturesque--a regular artists' place. By the way, are you
+an artist?"
+
+"Oh, no. I sketch a little, but----"
+
+"That'll do. You are not an artist, but you sketch. Then you won't be
+quite stranded. It's very quiet, you know. There's no society. Only the
+miller and his wife, and now and then the landlord--an out-at-elbows
+loafer who drifts about town and, very occasionally, plays knight errant
+to ladies in distress. There isn't even a curate. Can you possibly
+endure it?"
+
+She raised her head and laughed--a sweet, spontaneous laugh,
+inexpressibly gay.
+
+"Oh, you are good--just good! It's the only word that describes you. I
+always felt you were. I didn't know you were a landed proprietor,
+though."
+
+"In a very small way," he assured her.
+
+"How nice!" she said eagerly. "Yes, I'll go. I shall love it. But"--her
+face falling--"what of you? Shall you stay in town?"
+
+"And face the music," said the Poor Relation, with his most benign
+smile. "That is my intention. Don't pity me! I shall enjoy it."
+
+"Is it possible?" Again she looked doubtful.
+
+"Of course it's possible. I enjoy a good row now and then. It keeps me
+in condition. I'll come down and see you some day, and tell you all
+about it." He glanced at his watch. "I think we ought to be moving. We
+will discuss arrangements as we go. I must send a wire to Mrs. Perkiss,
+and tell her you will go down by the seven-thirty. I will see you into
+the train at this end, and they will meet you at the other with the
+cart. It's three miles from the railway."
+
+As they passed out together, he added meditatively, "I think you'll like
+the old mill, Chirpy. It's thatched."
+
+"I'm sure I shall," she answered earnestly.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THE KNIGHT ERRANT TAKES THE FIELD
+
+
+Rivington returned to his rooms that night, after dining at a
+restaurant, with a pleasing sense of having accomplished something that
+had been well worth the doing. He chuckled to himself a little as he
+walked. It was a decidedly humorous situation.
+
+He was met at the top of the stairs by his servant, a sharp-faced lad of
+fifteen whom he had picked out of the dock of a police-court some months
+before, and who was devoted to him in consequence.
+
+"There's a gentleman waitin' for you sir; wouldn't take 'No' for an
+answer; been 'ere best part of an hour. Name of Sin, sir. Looks like a
+foreigner."
+
+"Eh?" The blue eyes widened for a moment, then smiled approbation. "Very
+appropriate," murmured Rivington. "All right, Tommy; I know the
+gentleman."
+
+He was still smiling as he entered his room.
+
+A slim, dark man turned swiftly from its farther end to meet him. He had
+obviously been prowling up and down.
+
+"Mr. Rivington?" he said interrogatively.
+
+Rivington bowed.
+
+"Mr. Dinghra Singh?" he returned.
+
+"Have you seen me before?"
+
+"At a distance--several times."
+
+"Ah!" The Indian drew himself up with a certain arrogance, but his
+narrow black moustache did not hide the fact that his lips were
+twitching with excitement. His dark eyes shone like the eyes of a beast,
+green and ominous. "But we have never spoken. I thought not. Now, Mr.
+Rivington, will you permit me to come at once to business?"
+
+He spoke without a trace of foreign accent. He stood in the middle of
+the room, facing Rivington, in a commanding attitude.
+
+Rivington took a seat on the edge of the table. He was still faintly
+smiling.
+
+"Go ahead, sir," he said. "Won't you sit down?"
+
+But Dinghra preferred to stand.
+
+"I am presuming that you are the Mr. Cecil Mordaunt Rivington whose
+engagement to Miss Ernestine Cardwell was announced in this morning's
+paper," he said, speaking quickly but very distinctly.
+
+"The same," said Rivington. He added with a shrug of the shoulders, "A
+somewhat high-sounding name for such a humble citizen as myself, but it
+was not of my own choosing."
+
+Dinghra ignored the remark. He was very plainly in no mood for
+trivialities.
+
+"And the engagement really exists?" he questioned.
+
+The Englishman's brows went up.
+
+"Of course it exists."
+
+"Ah!" It was like a snarl. The white teeth gleamed for a moment. "I had
+no idea," Dinghra said, still with the same feverish rapidity, "that I
+had a rival."
+
+"Are we rivals?" said Rivington, amiably regretful. "It's the first I
+have heard of it."
+
+"You must have known!" The green glare suddenly began to flicker with a
+ruddy tinge as of flame. "Every one knew that I was after her."
+
+"Oh yes, I knew that," said Rivington. "But--pardon me if I fail to see
+that that fact constitutes any rivalry between us. We were engaged long
+before she met you. We have been engaged for years."
+
+"For years!" Dinghra took a sudden step forward. He looked as if he were
+about to spring at the Englishman's throat.
+
+But Rivington remained quite unmoved, all unsuspecting, lounging on the
+edge of the table.
+
+"Yes, for years," he repeated. "But we have kept it to ourselves till
+now. Even Lady Florence had no notion of it. There was nothing to be
+gained by talking. It was a case of--" He dug his hands into his
+trousers pockets and pulled them inside out with an eloquent gesture.
+"So, of course, there was nothing for it but to wait."
+
+"Then why have you published the engagement now?" demanded Dinghra.
+
+Rivington smiled.
+
+"Because we are tired of waiting," he said.
+
+"You are in a position to marry, then? You are--"
+
+"I am as poor as a church mouse, if you want to know," said Rivington.
+
+"And you will marry on nothing?"
+
+"I dare say we sha'n't starve," said Rivington optimistically.
+
+"Ah!" Again that beast-like snarl. There was no green glare left in the
+watching eyes--only red, leaping flame. "And--you like poverty?" asked
+the Indian in the tone of one seeking information.
+
+"I detest it," said Rivington, with unusual energy.
+
+Dinghra drew a step nearer, noiselessly, like a cat. His lips began to
+smile. He could not have been aware of the tigerish ferocity of his
+eyes.
+
+"I should like to make a bargain with you, Mr. Rivington," he said.
+
+Rivington, his hands in his pockets, looked him over with a cool
+appraising eye. He said nothing at all.
+
+"This girl," said Dinghra, his voice suddenly very soft and persuasive,
+"she is worth a good deal to you--doubtless?"
+
+"Doubtless," said Rivington.
+
+"She is worth--what?"
+
+Rivington stared uncomprehendingly.
+
+With a slight, contemptuous gesture the Indian proceeded to explain.
+
+"She is worth a good deal to me too--more than you would think. Her
+mother also desires a marriage between us. I am asking you, Mr.
+Rivington, to give her up, and to--name your price."
+
+"The devil you are!" said Rivington; but he said it without violence. He
+still sat motionless, his hands in his pockets, surveying his visitor.
+
+"I am rich," Dinghra said, still in those purring accents. "I am
+prepared to make you a wealthy man for the rest of your life. You will
+be able to marry, if you desire to do so, and live in ease and luxury.
+Come, Mr. Rivington, what do you say to it? You detest poverty. Now is
+your chance, then. You need never be poor again."
+
+"You're uncommonly generous," said Rivington. "But is the lady to have
+no say in the matter? Or has she already spoken?"
+
+Dinghra looked supremely contemptuous.
+
+"The matter is entirely between you and me," he said.
+
+"Oh!" Rivington became reflective.
+
+The Indian crossed his arms and waited.
+
+"Well," Rivington said at length, "I will name my price, since you
+desire it, but I warn you it's a fairly stiff one. You won't like it."
+
+"Speak!" said Dinghra eagerly. His eyes literally blazed at the
+Englishman's imperturbable face.
+
+Slowly Rivington took his hands from his pockets. Slowly he rose. For a
+moment he seemed to tower almost threateningly over the lesser man, then
+carelessly he suffered his limbs to relax.
+
+"The price," he said, "is that you come to me every day for a fortnight
+for as sound a licking as I am in a condition to administer. I will
+release Miss Ernestine Cardwell for that, and that alone." He paused.
+"And I think at the end of my treatment that you will stand a
+considerably better chance of winning her favour than you do at
+present," he added, faintly smiling.
+
+An awful silence followed his words. Dinghra stood as though transfixed
+for the space of twenty seconds. Then, without word or warning of any
+sort, with a single spring inexpressibly bestial, he leapt at
+Rivington's throat.
+
+But Rivington was ready for him. With incredible swiftness he stooped
+and caught his assailant as he sprang. There followed a brief and
+furious struggle, and then the Indian found himself slowly but
+irresistibly forced backwards across the Englishman's knee. He had a
+vision of pale blue eyes that were too grimly ironical to be angry, and
+the next moment he was sitting on the floor, two muscular hands holding
+him down.
+
+"Not to-night," said the leisurely voice above him. "To-morrow, if you
+like, we will begin the cure. Go home now and think it over."
+
+And with that he was free. But he sat for a second too infuriated to
+speak or move. Then, like lightning, he was on his feet.
+
+They stood face to face for an interval that was too pregnant with
+fierce mental strife to be timed by seconds. Then, with clenched hands,
+in utter silence, Dinghra turned away. He went softly, with a gliding,
+beast-like motion to the door, paused an instant, looked back with the
+gleaming eyes of a devil--and was gone.
+
+The Poor Relation threw himself into a chair and laughed very softly,
+his lower lip gripped fast between his teeth.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE KNIGHT ERRANT'S STRATEGY
+
+
+It was summer in Weatherbroom--the glareless, perfect summer of the
+country, of trees in their first verdure, of seas of bracken all in
+freshest green, of shining golden gorse, of babbling, clear brown
+streams, of birds that sang and chattered all day long.
+
+And in the midst of this paradise Ernestine Cardwell dwelt secure. There
+was literally not a soul to speak to besides the miller and his wife,
+but this absence of human companionship had not begun to pall upon her.
+She was completely and serenely happy.
+
+She spent the greater part of her days wandering about the woods and
+commons with a book tucked under her arm which she seldom opened. Now
+and then she tried to sketch, but usually abandoned the attempt in a fit
+of impatience. How could she hope to reproduce, even faintly, the
+loveliness around her? It seemed presumption almost to try, and she
+revelled in idleness instead. The singing of the birds had somehow got
+into her heart. She could listen to that music for hours together.
+
+Or else she would wander along the mill-stream with the roar of the
+racing water behind her, and gather great handfuls of the wild flowers
+that fringed its banks. These were usually her evening strolls, and she
+loved none better.
+
+Once, exploring around the mill, she entered a barn, and found there an
+old caravan that once had been gaily painted and now stood in all the
+shabbiness of departed glory. She had the curiosity to investigate its
+interior, and found there a miniature bedroom neatly furnished.
+
+"That's Mr. Rivington's," the miller's wife told her. "He will often run
+down to fish in the summer, and then he likes it pulled out into the bit
+of wood yonder by the water, and spends the night there. It's a funny
+fancy, I often think."
+
+"I should love it," said Ernestine.
+
+She wrote to Rivington that night, her second letter since her arrival,
+and told him of her discovery. She added, "When are you coming down
+again? There are plenty of trout in the stream." And she posted the
+letter herself at the little thatched post-office, with a small,
+strictly private smile. Oh, no, she wasn't bored, of course! But it
+would be rather fun if he came.
+
+On the evening of the following day, she was returning from her
+customary stroll along the stream, when she spied a water-lily, yellow
+and splendid, floating, as is the invariable custom of these flowers,
+just out of reach from the bank. She made several attempts to secure it,
+each failure only serving to increase her determination. Finally, the
+evening being still and warm, and her desire for the pretty thing not to
+be denied, she slipped off shoes and stockings and slid cautiously into
+the stream. It bubbled deliciously round her ankles, sending exquisite
+cold thrills through and through her. She secured her prize, and gave
+herself up unreservedly to the enjoyment thereof.
+
+An unmistakable whiff of tobacco-smoke awoke her from her dream of
+delight. She turned swiftly, the lily in one hand, her skirt clutched in
+the other.
+
+"Don't be alarmed," said a quiet, casual voice. "It's only me."
+
+"Only you!" she echoed, blushing crimson. "I wasn't expecting anyone
+just now."
+
+"Oh, but I don't count," he said. He was standing on the bank above her,
+looking down upon her with eyes so kindly that she found it impossible
+to be vexed with him, or even embarrassed after that first moment.
+
+She reached up her hand to him.
+
+"I'm coming out."
+
+He took the small wrist, and helped her ashore. She looked up at him and
+laughed.
+
+"I'm glad you've come," she said simply.
+
+"Thank you," he returned, equally simply. "How are you getting on?"
+
+"Oh, beautifully! I'm as happy as the day is long."
+
+She began to rub her bare feet in the grass.
+
+"Have my handkerchief," he suggested.
+
+She accepted it with a smile, and sat down.
+
+"Tell me about everything," she said.
+
+Rivington sat down also, and took a long, luxurious pull at the briar
+pipe.
+
+"Things were quite lively for a day or two after you left," he said.
+"But they have settled down again. Still, I don't advise you to go back
+again at present."
+
+"Oh, I'm not going," she said. "I am much happier here. I saw a squirrel
+this morning. I wanted to kiss it dreadfully, but," with a sigh, "it
+didn't understand."
+
+"The squirrel's loss," observed Rivington.
+
+She crumpled his handkerchief into a ball, and tossed it at him.
+
+"Of course. But as it will never know what it has missed, it doesn't so
+much matter. Are you going to live in the caravan? I'll bring you your
+supper if you are."
+
+"That's awfully good of you," he said.
+
+"Oh, no, it isn't. I want to. I shall bring my own as well and eat it on
+the step."
+
+"Better and better!" said Rivington.
+
+She laughed her own peculiarly light-hearted laugh.
+
+"I've a good mind to turn you out and sleep there myself. I'm longing to
+know what it feels like."
+
+"You can if you want to," he said.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"I daren't, by myself."
+
+"I'll have my kennel underneath," he suggested.
+
+But she shook her head again, though she still laughed.
+
+"No, I mustn't. What would Mrs. Perkiss say? She has a very high opinion
+of me at present."
+
+"Who hasn't?" said Rivington.
+
+She raised her eyes suddenly and gave him a straight, serious look.
+
+"Are you trying to be complimentary, Knight Errant? Because--don't!"
+
+Rivington blew a cloud of smoke into the air.
+
+"Shouldn't dream of it," he said imperturbably. "I am fully aware that
+poor relations mustn't presume on their privileges."
+
+She coloured a little, and gave her whole attention to fastening her
+shoe-lace.
+
+"I didn't mean that," she said, after a moment. "Only--don't think I
+care for that sort of thing, for, candidly, I don't."
+
+"You needn't be afraid," he answered gravely. "I shall never say
+anything to you that I don't mean."
+
+She glanced up again with her quick smile.
+
+"Is it a bargain?" she said.
+
+He held out his hand to her.
+
+"All right, Chirpy, a bargain," he said.
+
+And they sealed it with a warm grip of mutual appreciation.
+
+"Now tell me what everybody has been saying about me," she said, getting
+to her feet.
+
+He smiled as he leisurely arose.
+
+"To begin with," he said, "I've seen mamma."
+
+She looked up at him sharply.
+
+"Go on! Wasn't she furious?"
+
+"My dear child, that is but a mild term. She was cold as the nether
+mill-stone. I am afraid there isn't much chance for us if we persist in
+our folly."
+
+"Don't be absurd! Tell me everything. Has that announcement been
+contradicted?"
+
+"Once," said Rivington. "But it has been inserted three times since
+then."
+
+"Oh, but you didn't----"
+
+"Yes, but I did. It was necessary. I think everyone is now convinced of
+our engagement, including Lady Florence."
+
+Ernestine laughed a little, in spite of herself.
+
+"I can't think what the end of it will be," she said, with a touch of
+uneasiness.
+
+"Wait till we get there," said Rivington.
+
+She threw him a glance, half merry and half shy.
+
+"Did you tell mother where I was?"
+
+"On the contrary," said Rivington, "I implored her to tell me."
+
+She drew a sharp breath.
+
+"That was very ingenious of you."
+
+"So I thought," he rejoined modestly.
+
+"And what did she say?"
+
+"She said with scarcely a pause that she had sent you out of town to
+give you time to come to your senses, and it was quite futile for me to
+question her, as she had not the faintest intention of revealing your
+whereabouts."
+
+Ernestine breathed again.
+
+"I said in the note I left behind for her that she wasn't to worry about
+me. I had gone into the country to get away from my troubles."
+
+"That was ingenious, too," he commented. "I think, if you ask me, that
+we have come out of the affair rather well."
+
+"We have all been remarkably subtle," she said, with a sigh. "But I
+don't like subtlety, you know. It's very horrid, and it frightens me
+rather."
+
+"What are you afraid of?" he said.
+
+"I don't know. I think I am afraid of going too far and not being able
+to get back."
+
+"Do you want to get back?" he asked.
+
+"No, no, of course not. At least, not yet," she assured him.
+
+"Then, my dear," he said, "I think, if you will allow me to say so, that
+you are disquieting yourself in vain."
+
+He spoke very kindly, with a gentleness that was infinitely reassuring.
+
+With an impulsive movement of complete confidence, she slipped her hand
+through his arm.
+
+"Thank you, Knight Errant," she said. "I wanted that."
+
+She did not ask him anything about Dinghra, and he wondered a little at
+her forbearance.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+HIS INSPIRATION
+
+
+The days of Rivington's sojourn slipped by with exceeding smoothness.
+They did a little fishing and a good deal of quiet lazing, a little
+exploring, and even one or two long, all-day rambles.
+
+And then one day, to Ernestine's amazement, Rivington took her
+sketching-block from her and began to sketch. He worked rapidly and
+quite silently for about an hour, smoking furiously the while, and
+finally laid before her the completed sketch.
+
+She stared at it in astonishment.
+
+"I had no idea you were a genius. Why, it's lovely!"
+
+He smiled a little.
+
+"I did it for a living once, before my father died and left me enough to
+buy me bread and cheese. I became a loafer then, and I've been one ever
+since."
+
+"But what a pity!" she exclaimed.
+
+His smile broadened.
+
+"It is, isn't it? But where's the sense of working when you've nothing
+to work for? No, it isn't the work of a genius. It's the work of a man
+who might do something good if he had the incentive for it, but not
+otherwise."
+
+"What a pity!" she said again. "Why don't you take to it again?"
+
+"I might," he said, "if I found it worth while."
+
+He tapped the ashes from his pipe and settled himself at full length.
+
+"Surely it is worth while!" she protested. "Why, you might make quite a
+lot of money."
+
+Rivington stuck the empty pipe between his teeth and pulled at it
+absently.
+
+"I'm not particularly keen on money," he said.
+
+"But it's such a waste," she argued. "Oh, I wish I had your talent. I
+would never let it lie idle."
+
+"It isn't my fault," he said; "I am waiting for an inspiration."
+
+"What do you mean by an inspiration?"
+
+He turned lazily upon his side and looked at her.
+
+"Let us say, for instance, if some nice little woman ever cared to marry
+me," he said.
+
+There fell a sudden silence. Ernestine was studying his sketch with her
+head on one side. At length, "You will never marry," she said, in a tone
+of conviction.
+
+"Probably not," agreed Rivington.
+
+He lay still for a few seconds, then sat up slowly and removed his pipe
+to peer over her shoulder.
+
+"It isn't bad," he said critically.
+
+She flashed him a sudden smile.
+
+"Do take it up again!" she pleaded. "It's really wicked of you to go and
+bury a talent like that."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I can't sketch just to please myself. It isn't in me."
+
+"Do it to please me, then," she said impulsively.
+
+He smiled into her eyes.
+
+"Would it please you, Chirpy?"
+
+Her eyes met his with absolute candour.
+
+"Immensely," she said. "Immensely! You know it would."
+
+He held out his hand for the sketch.
+
+"All right, then. You shall be my inspiration."
+
+She laughed lightly.
+
+"Till that nice little woman turns up."
+
+"Exactly," said Rivington.
+
+He continued to hold out his hand, but she withheld the sketch.
+
+"I'm going to keep it, if you don't mind."
+
+"What for?" he said.
+
+"Because I like it. I want it. Why shouldn't I?"
+
+"I will do you something better worth having than that," he said.
+
+"Something I shouldn't like half so well," she returned. "No, I'm going
+to keep this, in memory of a perfect afternoon and some of the happiest
+days of my life."
+
+Rivington gave in, still smiling.
+
+"I'm going back to town to-morrow," he said.
+
+"Oh, are you?" Actual dismay sounded in her voice. "Why?"
+
+"I'm afraid I must," he said. "I'm sorry. Shall you be lonely?"
+
+"Oh, no," she rejoined briskly. "Of course not. I wasn't lonely before
+you came." She added rather wistfully, "It was good of you to stay so
+long; I hope you haven't been very bored?"
+
+"Not a bit," said Rivington. "I've only been afraid of boring you."
+
+She laughed a little. A certain constraint seemed to have fallen upon
+her.
+
+"How horribly polite we are getting!" she said.
+
+He laid his hand for an instant on her shoulder.
+
+"I shall come again, Chirpy," he said.
+
+She nodded carelessly, not looking at him.
+
+"Yes, mind you do. I dare say I shan't be having any other visitors at
+present."
+
+But though her manner was perfectly friendly, Rivington was conscious of
+that unwonted constraint during the rest of his visit. He even fancied
+on the morrow that she bade him farewell with relief.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE MEETING IN THE MARKET-PLACE
+
+
+Two days later, Ernestine drove with the miller's wife to market at
+Rington, five miles distant. She had never seen a country market, and
+her interest was keen. They started after an early breakfast on an
+exquisite summer morning. And Ernestine carried with her a letter which
+she had that day received from Rivington.
+
+"Dear Chirpy," it ran, "I hasten to write and tell you that now I am
+back in town again I am most hideously bored. I am, however, negotiating
+for a studio, which fact ought to earn for me your valued approval. If,
+for any reason, my presence should seem desirable to you, write or wire,
+and I shall come immediately.--Your devoted
+
+"KNIGHT ERRANT."
+
+Ernestine squeezed this letter a good many times on the way to Rington.
+She had certainly been feeling somewhat forlorn since his departure.
+But, this fact notwithstanding, she had no intention of writing or
+wiring to him at present. Still, it was nice to know he would come.
+
+They reached the old country town, and found it crammed with market
+folk. The whole place hummed with people. Ernestine's first view of the
+market-place filled her with amazement. The lowing of cattle, the
+bleating of sheep, and the yelling of men combined to make such a
+confusion of sound that she felt bewildered, even awestruck.
+
+Mrs. Perkiss went straight to the oldest inn in the place and put up the
+cart. She was there to buy, not to sell.
+
+Ernestine kept with her for the first hour, then, growing weary of the
+hubbub, wandered away from the market to explore the old town. She sat
+for a while in the churchyard, and there, to enliven her solitude,
+re-read that letter of Rivington's. Was he really taking up art again to
+please her? He had been very energetic. She wondered, smiling, how long
+his energy would last.
+
+Thus engaged the time passed quickly, and she presently awoke from a
+deep reverie to find that the hour Mrs. Perkiss had appointed for lunch
+at the inn was approaching. She rose, and began to make her way thither.
+
+The street was crowded, and her progress was slow. A motor was threading
+its way through the throng at a snail's pace. The persistence of its
+horn attracted her attention. As it neared her she glanced at its
+occupant.
+
+The next moment she was shrinking back into a doorway, white to the
+lips. The man in the car was Dinghra.
+
+Across the crowded pavement his eyes sought hers, and the wicked triumph
+in them turned her cold. He made no sign of recognition, and she seemed
+as though petrified till the motor had slowly passed.
+
+Then a great weakness came over her, and for a few seconds all
+consciousness of her surroundings went from her. She remembered only
+those evil eyes and the gloating satisfaction with which they had rested
+upon her.
+
+"Ain't you well, miss?" said a voice.
+
+With a start she found a burly young farmer beside her. He looked down
+at her with kindly concern.
+
+"You take my arm," he said. "Which way do you want to go?"
+
+With an effort she told him, and the next moment he was leading her
+rapidly through the crowd.
+
+They reached the inn, and he put her into the bar parlour and went out,
+bellowing for Mrs. Perkiss, whom he knew.
+
+When he finally emerged, after finding the miller's wife, a slim, dark
+man was waiting on the further side of the road. The farmer took no note
+of him, but the watcher saw the farmer, and with swift, cat-like tread
+he followed him.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+IN FEAR OF THE ENEMY
+
+
+All the way home the memory of those eyes haunted Ernestine. All the way
+home her ears were straining to catch the hoot of a motor-horn and the
+rush of wheels behind them.
+
+But no motor overtook them. Nothing happened to disturb the smiling
+peace of that summer afternoon.
+
+Back in her little room under the thatch she flung herself face
+downwards on the bed, and lay tense. What should she do? What should she
+do? He had seen her. He was on her track. Sooner or later he would run
+her to earth. And she--what could she do?
+
+For a long while she lay there, too horror-stricken to move, while over
+and over again there passed through her aching brain the memory of those
+eyes. Did he guess that she had come there to hide from him? Had he been
+hunting her for long?
+
+She moved at length, sat up stiffly, and felt something crackle inside
+her dress. With a little start she realised what it was, and drew forth
+Rivington's letter.
+
+A great sigh broke from her as she opened and read it once again.
+
+A little later she ran swiftly downstairs with a folded paper in her
+hand. Out into the blinding sunshine, bareheaded, she ran, never pausing
+till she turned into the lily-decked garden of the post-office.
+
+She was trembling all over as she handed in her message, but as it
+ticked away a sensation of immense relief stole over her. She went out
+again feeling almost calm.
+
+But that night her terrors came back upon her in ghastly array. She
+could not sleep, and lay listening to every sound. Finally she fell into
+an uneasy doze, from which she started to hear the dog in the yard
+barking furiously. She lay shivering for a while, then crept to her
+window and looked out. The dense shadow of a pine wood across the road
+blotted out the starlight, and all was very dark. It was impossible to
+discern anything. She stood listening intently in the darkness.
+
+The dog subsided into a growling monotone, and through the stillness she
+fancied she caught a faint sound, as if some animal were prowling softly
+under the trees. She listened with a thumping heart. Nearer it seemed to
+come, and nearer, and then she heard it no more. A sudden gust stirred
+the pine tops, and a sudden, overmastering panic filled her soul.
+
+With the violence of frenzy she slammed and bolted her window, and made
+a wild spring back to the bed. She burrowed down under the blankets, and
+lay there huddled, not daring to stir for a long, long time.
+
+With the first glimmer of day came relief, but she did not sleep. The
+night's terror had left her nerves too shaken for repose. Yet as the sun
+rose and the farmyard sounds began, as she heard the mill-wheel creak
+and turn and the rush and roar of the water below, common sense came to
+her aid, and she was able to tell herself that her night alarm might
+have been due to nothing more than her own startled imagination.
+
+On the breakfast table she found a card awaiting her, which she seized,
+and read with deepening colour.
+
+"Expect me by the afternoon train. I shall walk from the station.--K.E."
+
+A feeling of gladness, so intense that it was almost rapture, made her
+blood flow faster. He was coming in answer to her desperate summons. He
+would be with her that very day. She was sure that he would tell her
+what to do.
+
+She read the card several times in the course of the morning, and came
+to the conclusion that it would be only nice of her to walk to meet him.
+The path lay through beech woods. She had gone part of the way with him
+only three days before. Only three days! It seemed like months. She
+looked forward to meeting him again as though he had been an old friend.
+
+She started soon after the early dinner. The afternoon was hot and
+sultry. She was glad to turn from the road into the shade and stillness
+of the woods. The sun-rays slanting downwards through the mazy, golden
+aisles made her think of the afternoon on which she had waited for him
+under the dome of St. Paul's.
+
+The heat as she proceeded became intense. The humming of many insects
+filled the air with a persistent drone. It was summer at its height.
+
+A heavy languor began to possess her. She remembered that she had not
+slept all the previous night. She also recalled the panic that had kept
+her awake, and smiled faintly to herself. She did not feel afraid now
+that Rivington was coming. She even began to think she had been rather
+foolish, and wondered if he would think so too.
+
+She began to go more slowly. Her feet felt heavier at every step. A few
+yards ahead a golden-brown stream ran babbling through the wood. It was
+close to the path. She would sit down beside it and rest till he
+arrived.
+
+She reached the stream, sank down upon a bed of moss, then found the
+heat intolerable, and began impulsively to loosen her shoes. What if he
+did discover her a second time barefooted? He had not minded before;
+neither had she. And no one else would come that way. He had even lent
+her his handkerchief to dry her feet. Perhaps he would again.
+
+Once more a strictly private little smile twitched the corners of her
+mouth. She slipped off her stockings and plunged her tired feet into the
+cool, running water.
+
+Leaning back against a tree-trunk she closed her eyes. An exquisite
+sense of well-being stole over her. He would not be here yet. What did
+it matter if she dozed? The bubbling of the water lulled her. She rested
+her feet upon a sunny brown stone. She turned her cheek upon her arm.
+
+And in her sleep she heard the thudding of a horse's hoofs, and dreamed
+that her knight errant was close at hand.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE TIGER'S PREY
+
+
+With a start she opened her eyes. Some one was drawing near. It must be
+later than she had thought.
+
+Again she heard the tramp of a horse's feet, and hastily peered round
+the trunk of her tree. Surely he had not come on horseback! It must be a
+stranger. She cast a hasty glance towards her shoes, and gathered her
+feet under her.
+
+A few yards away she caught sight of a horse's clean limbs moving in the
+checkered sunlight. Its rider--her heart gave a sudden, sickening throb
+and stood still. He was riding like a king, with his insolent dark face
+turned to the sun. She stared at him for one wild moment, then shrank
+against her tree. It was possible, it was possible even then, that he
+might pass her by without turning his eyes in her direction.
+
+Nearer he came, and nearer yet. The path wound immediately behind the
+beech tree that sheltered her. He was close to her now. He had reached
+her. She cowered down in breathless terror in the moss, motionless as a
+stone. On went the horse's feet, on without a pause, slow and regular as
+the beat of a drum. He went by her at a walking pace. Surely he had not
+seen her!
+
+She did not dare to lift her head, but it seemed to her that the sound
+of the thudding hoofs died very quickly away. For seconds that seemed
+like hours she crouched there in the afternoon stillness. Then at
+last--at last--she ventured to raise herself--to turn and look.
+
+And in that moment she knew the agony that pierces every nerve with a
+physical anguish in the face of sudden horror. For there, close to her,
+was Dinghra, on foot, not six paces away, and drawing softly nearer.
+There was a faint smile on his face. His eyes were fixed and devilish.
+
+With a gasp she sprang up, and the next moment was running wildly away,
+away, down the forest path, heedless of the rough ground, of the stones
+and roots that tore her bare feet, running like a mad creature, with
+sobbing breath, and limbs that staggered, compel them though she might.
+
+She did not run far. Her flight ended as suddenly as it had begun in a
+violent, headlong fall. A long streamer of bramble had tripped her
+unaccustomed feet. She was conscious for an instant of the horrible pain
+of it as she was flung forward on her hands.
+
+And then came the touch that she dreaded, the sinewy hands lifting her,
+the sinister face looking into hers.
+
+"You should never run away from destiny," said Dinghra softly. "Destiny
+can always catch you up."
+
+She gasped and shuddered. She was shaking all over, too crushed, too
+shattered, for speech.
+
+He set her on her feet.
+
+"We will go back," he said, keeping his arm about her. "You have had a
+pleasant sleep? I am sorry you awoke so soon."
+
+But she stood still, her wild eyes searching the forest depths.
+
+"Oh, let me go!" she cried out suddenly. "Oh, do let me go!"
+
+His arm tightened, but still he smiled.
+
+"Never again. I have had some trouble to find you, but you are mine now
+for ever--or at least"--and the snarl of the beast was in his
+voice--"for as long as I want you."
+
+She resisted him, striving to escape that ever-tightening arm.
+
+"No!" she cried in an agony. "No! No! No!"
+
+His hold became a vice-like grip. Without a word he forced her back with
+him along the way she had come. She limped as she went, and he noted it
+with a terrible smile.
+
+"It would have been better if you hadn't run away," he said.
+
+"Oh, do let me go!" she begged again through her white lips. "Why do you
+persecute me like this? I have never done you any harm."
+
+"Except laugh at me," he answered. "But you will never do that again, at
+least."
+
+And then, finding her weight upon him, he stopped and lifted her in his
+arms.
+
+She covered her face with her hands, and he laughed above her head.
+
+"It is a dangerous amusement," he said, "to laugh at Dinghra. There are
+not many who dare. There is not one who goes unpunished."
+
+He bore her back to her resting-place. He set her on her feet and drew
+her hands away, holding her firmly by the wrists.
+
+"Now tell me," he said "it is the last time I shall ever ask you--will
+you marry me?"
+
+"Never!" she cried.
+
+"Be careful!" he broke in warningly. "That is not your answer. Look at
+me! Look into my eyes! Do you think you are wise in giving me such an
+answer as that?"
+
+But she would not meet his eyes. She dared not.
+
+"Listen!" he said. "Your mother has given you to me. She will never
+speak to you again, except as my promised wife. I have sworn to her that
+I will make you accept me. No power on earth can take you from me.
+Ernestine, listen! You are the only woman who ever resisted me, and for
+that I am going to make you what I have never desired to make any woman
+before,--my wife--not my servant; my queen--not my slave. I can give you
+everything under the sun. You will be a princess. You will have wealth,
+jewels such as you have never dreamed of, palaces, servants, honour--"
+
+"And you!" she cried hysterically. "You!"
+
+"Yes, and me," he said. "But you will have me in one form or another
+whatever your choice. You won't get away from me. You may refuse to
+marry me, but----"
+
+"I do!" she burst out wildly. "I do!"
+
+"But--" he said again, very deliberately.
+
+And then, compelled by she knew not what, she lifted her eyes to his.
+And all her life she shrank and shuddered at the dread memory of what
+she saw.
+
+For seconds he did not utter a single word. For seconds his eyes held
+hers, arresting, piercing, devouring. She could not escape them. She was
+forced to meet them, albeit with fear and loathing unutterable.
+
+"You see!" he said at last, as though concluding an argument. "You are
+mine! I can do with you exactly as I will--exactly as I will!" He
+repeated the words almost in a whisper.
+
+But at that she cried out, and began to struggle, like a bird beating
+its wings against the bars of a cage.
+
+His hold became cruel in an instant. He forced her hands behind her,
+holding her imprisoned in his arms. He tilted her head back. His eyes
+shone down into hers like the eyes of a tiger that clutches its prey. He
+quelled her resistance by sheer brutality.
+
+"I have warned you!" he said; and she knew instinctively that he would
+have no mercy.
+
+"How can I marry you?" she gasped in desperation. "I am engaged
+to--another man!"
+
+She saw his face change. Instantly she knew that she had made a mistake.
+The ferocity in his eyes turned to devilish malice.
+
+"You will marry me yet!" he said.
+
+"But you will come to hate me some day!" she cried, clutching at straws.
+"As--as I hate you to-day!"
+
+His look appalled her, his lips were close to hers.
+
+"If I do," he said, with a fiendish smile, "I shall find a remedy. But
+so long as you hate me, I shall not grow tired of you!"
+
+And with that he suddenly and savagely pressed his lips to hers.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+THE TIGER'S PUNISHMENT
+
+
+That single kiss was to Ernestine the climax and zenith of horror. It
+seemed to sear and blister her very soul with an anguish of repulsion
+that would scar her memory for all time. She retained her consciousness,
+but she never knew by what lightning stroke she was set free. She was
+too dazed, too blinded, by her horror to realise. But suddenly the cruel
+grip that had her helpless was gone. A vague confusion swam before her
+eyes. Her knees doubled under her. She sank down in a huddled heap, and
+lay quivering.
+
+There came to her the sound of struggling, the sound of cursing, the
+sound of blows. But, sick and spent, she heeded none of these things,
+till a certain monotony of sound began to drum itself into her senses.
+She came to full understanding to see Dinghra, in the grip of an
+Englishman, being hideously thrashed with his own horsewhip. He was
+quite powerless in that grip, but he would fight to the end, and it
+seemed that the end was not far off. The punishment must have been going
+on for many seconds. For his face was quite livid and streaked with
+blood, his hands groped blindly, beating the air, he staggered at each
+blow.
+
+The whip fell flail-like, with absolute precision and regularity. It
+spared no part of him. His coat was nearly torn off. In one place, on
+the shoulder, the white shirt was exposed, and this also was streaked
+with blood.
+
+Ernestine crouched under the tree and watched. But very soon a new fear
+sprang up within her, a fear that made her collect all her strength for
+action. It was something in that awful, livid face that prompted her.
+
+She struggled stiffly to her feet, later she wondered how, and drew near
+to the two men. The whirling whip continued to descend, but she had no
+fear of that. She came quite close till she was almost under the
+upraised arm. She laid trembling hands upon a grey tweed coat.
+
+"Let him go!" she said very urgently. "Let him go--while he can!"
+
+Rivington looked down into her white face. He was white himself--white
+to the lips.
+
+"I haven't done with him yet," he said, and he spoke between his teeth.
+
+"I know," she said. "I know. But he has had enough. You mustn't kill
+him."
+
+She was strangely calm, and her calmness took effect. Later, she
+wondered at that also.
+
+Rivington jerked the exhausted man upright.
+
+"Go back!" he said to Ernestine. "Go back! I won't kill him!"
+
+She took him at his word, and went back. She heard Rivington speak
+briefly and sternly, and Dinghra mumbled something in reply. She heard
+the shuffling of feet, and knew that Rivington was helping him to walk.
+
+For a little while she watched the two figures, the one supporting the
+other, as they moved slowly away. Dinghra's head was sunk upon his
+breast. He slunk along like a beaten dog. Then the trunk of a tree hid
+them from her sight.
+
+When that happened, Ernestine suffered herself to collapse upon the
+moss, with her head upon her arms.
+
+Lying thus, she presently heard once more the tread of a horse's feet,
+and counted each footfall mechanically. They grew fainter and fainter,
+till at last the forest silence swallowed them, and a great solitude
+seemed to wrap her round.
+
+Minutes passed. She did not stir. Her strength had gone utterly from
+her. Finally there came the sound of a quiet footfall.
+
+Close to her it came, and stopped.
+
+"Why, Chirpy!" a quiet voice said.
+
+She tried to move, but could not. She was as one paralysed. She could
+not so much as utter a word.
+
+He knelt down beside her and raised her to a sitting posture, so that
+she leaned against him. Holding her so, he gently rubbed her cheek.
+
+"Poor little Chirpy!" he said. "It's all right!"
+
+At sound of the pity and the tenderness of his voice, something seemed
+to break within her, the awful constriction passed. She hid her face
+upon his arm, and burst into a wild agony of weeping.
+
+He laid his hand upon her head, and kept it there for a while; then as
+her sobbing grew more and more violent, he bent over her.
+
+"Don't cry so, child, for Heaven's sake!" he said earnestly. "It's all
+right, dear; all right. You are perfectly safe!"
+
+"I shall never--feel safe--again!" she gasped, between her sobs.
+
+"Yes, yes, you will," he assured her. "You will have me to take care of
+you. I shall not leave you again."
+
+"But the nights!" she cried wildly. "The nights!"
+
+"Hush!" he said. "Hush! There is nothing to cry about. I will take care
+of you at night, too."
+
+She began to grow a little calmer. The assurance of his manner soothed
+her. But for a long time she crouched there shivering, with her face
+hidden, while he knelt beside her and stroked her hair.
+
+At last he moved as though to rise, but on the instant she clutched at
+him with both hands.
+
+"Don't go! Don't leave me! You said you wouldn't!"
+
+"I am not going to, Chirpy," he said. "Don't be afraid!"
+
+But she was afraid, and continued to cling to him very tightly, though
+she would not raise her face.
+
+"Come!" he said gently, at length. "You're better. Wouldn't you like to
+bathe your feet?"
+
+"You will stay with me?" she whispered.
+
+"I am going to help you down to the stream," he said.
+
+"Don't--don't carry me!" she faltered.
+
+"Of course not! You can walk on this moss if I hold you up."
+
+But she was very reluctant to move.
+
+"I--I don't want you to look at me," she said, at last, with a great
+sob. "I feel such a fright."
+
+"Don't be a goose, Chirpy!" he said.
+
+That braced her a little. She dried her tears. She even suffered him to
+raise her to her feet, but she kept her head bent, avoiding his eyes.
+
+"Look where you are going," said Rivington practically. "Here is my arm.
+You mustn't mind me, you know. Lean hard!"
+
+She accepted his assistance in silence. She was crying still, though she
+strove to conceal the fact. But as she sank down once more on the brink
+of the stream, the sobs broke out afresh, and would not be suppressed.
+
+"I was so happy!" she whispered. "I didn't want him here--to spoil my
+paradise."
+
+Rivington said nothing. She did not even know if he heard; and if he
+were aware of her tears he gave no sign. He was gently bathing her torn
+feet with his hands.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+THE KNIGHT ERRANT PLAYS THE GAME
+
+
+She began to command herself at last, and to be inexpressibly ashamed of
+her weakness. She sat in silence, accepting his ministrations, till
+Rivington proceeded to tear his handkerchief into strips for bandaging
+purposes; then she put out a protesting hand.
+
+"You--you shouldn't!" she said rather tremulously.
+
+He looked at her with his kindly smile.
+
+"It's all right, Chirpy. I've got another."
+
+She tried to laugh. It was a valiant effort.
+
+"I know I'm a horrid nuisance to you. It's nice of you to pretend you
+don't mind."
+
+"I never pretend," said Rivington, with a touch of grimness. "Do you
+think you will be able to get your stocking over that?"
+
+"I think so."
+
+"Try!" he said.
+
+She tried and succeeded.
+
+"That's better," said Rivington. "Now for the shoes. I can put them on."
+
+"I don't like you to," she murmured.
+
+"Knights errant always do that," he assured her. "It's part of the game.
+Come! That's splendid! How does it feel?"
+
+"I think I can bear it," she said, under her breath.
+
+He drew it instantly off again.
+
+"No, you can't. Or, at least, you are not going to. Look here, Chirpy,
+my dear, I think you must let me carry you, anyhow to the caravan. It
+isn't far, and I can fetch you some slippers from the mill from there.
+What? You don't mind, do you? An old friend like me, and a poor relation
+into the bargain?" The blue eyes smiled at her quizzically, and very
+persuasively.
+
+But her white face crimsoned, and she turned it aside.
+
+"I don't want you to," she said piteously.
+
+"No, but you'll put up with it!" he urged. "It's too small a thing to
+argue about, and you have too much sense to refuse."
+
+He rose with the words. She looked up at him with quivering lips.
+
+"You wouldn't do it--if I refused?" she faltered.
+
+The smile went out of his eyes.
+
+"I shall never do anything against your will," he said. "But I don't
+know how you will get back if I don't."
+
+She pondered this for a moment, then, impulsively as a child, stretched
+up her arms to him.
+
+"All right, Knight Errant. You may," she said.
+
+And he bent and lifted her without further words.
+
+They scarcely spoke during that journey. Only once, towards the end of
+it, Ernestine asked him if he were tired, and he scouted the idea with a
+laugh.
+
+When they reached the caravan, and he set her down upon the step, she
+thanked him meekly.
+
+"We will have tea," said Rivington, and proceeded to forage for the
+necessaries for this meal in a locker inside the caravan.
+
+He brought out a spirit-lamp and boiled some water. The actual making of
+the tea he relegated to Ernestine.
+
+"A woman does it better than a man," he said.
+
+And while she was thus occupied, he produced cups and saucers, and a tin
+of biscuits, and laid the cloth. Finally, he seated himself on the grass
+below her, and began with evident enjoyment to partake with her of the
+meal thus provided.
+
+When it was over, he washed up, she drying the cups and saucers, and
+striving with somewhat doubtful success to appear normal and
+unconstrained.
+
+"Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked, at the end of this.
+
+"Of course not," she answered, and he brought out the briar pipe
+forthwith.
+
+She watched him fill and light it, her chin upon her hand. She was still
+very pale, and the fear had not gone wholly from her eyes.
+
+"Now I'm going to talk to you," Rivington announced.
+
+"Yes?" she said rather faintly.
+
+He lay back with his arms under his head, and stared up through the
+beech boughs to the cloudless evening sky.
+
+"I want you first of all to remember," he said, "that what I said a
+little while ago I meant--and shall mean for all time. I will never do
+anything, Chirpy, against your will."
+
+He spoke deliberately. He was puffing the smoke upward in long spirals.
+
+"That is quite understood, is it?" he asked, as she did not speak.
+
+"I think so," said Ernestine slowly.
+
+"I want you to be quite sure," he said. "Otherwise, what I am going to
+say may startle you."
+
+"Don't frighten me!" she begged, in a whisper.
+
+"My dear child, I sha'n't frighten you," he rejoined. "You may frighten
+yourself. That is what I am trying to guard against."
+
+Her laugh had a piteous quiver in it.
+
+"You think me very young and foolish, don't you?" she said.
+
+He sat up and looked at her.
+
+"I think," he said, "that you stand in very serious need of someone to
+look after you."
+
+She made a slight, impatient movement.
+
+"Why go over old ground? If you really have any definite suggestion to
+make, why not make it?"
+
+Rivington clasped his hands about his knees. He continued to look at her
+speculatively, his pipe between his teeth.
+
+"Look here, Chirpy," he said, after a moment, "I can't help thinking
+that you would be better off and a good deal happier if you married."
+
+"If I--married!" Her eyes flashed startled interrogation at him. "If
+I--married!" she repeated almost fiercely. "I would rather die!"
+
+"I didn't suggest that you should marry Dinghra," he pointed out mildly.
+"He is not the only man in the world."
+
+The hot colour rushed up over her face.
+
+"He is the only one that ever wanted me," she said, in a muffled tone.
+
+"Quite sure of that?" said Rivington.
+
+She did not answer him. She was playing nervously with a straw that she
+had pulled from the floor of the caravan. Her eyes were downcast.
+
+"What about me?" said Rivington. "Think you could put up with me as a
+husband?"
+
+She shook her head in silence.
+
+"Why not?" he said gently.
+
+Again she shook her head.
+
+He knelt up suddenly beside her, discarding his pipe, and laid his hand
+on hers.
+
+"Tell me why not," he said.
+
+A little tremor went through her at his touch. She did not raise her
+eyes.
+
+"It wouldn't do," she said, her voice very low.
+
+"You don't like me?" he questioned.
+
+"Yes; I like you. It isn't that."
+
+"Then--what is it, Chirpy? I believe you are afraid of me," he said half
+quizzically.
+
+"I'm not!" she declared, with vehemence. "I'm not such a donkey! No,
+Knight Errant, I'm only afraid for you."
+
+"I don't quite grasp your meaning," he said.
+
+With an effort she explained.
+
+"You see, you don't know me very well--not nearly so well as I know
+you."
+
+"I know you well enough to be fond of you, Chirpy," he said.
+
+"That is just because you don't know me," she said, her voice quivering
+a little. "You wouldn't like me for long, Knight Errant. Men never do."
+
+"More fools they," said the knight errant, with somewhat unusual
+emphasis. "It's their loss, anyway."
+
+She laughed a little.
+
+"It's very nice of you to say so, but it doesn't alter the fact.
+Besides--" She paused.
+
+"Besides--" said Rivington.
+
+She looked at him suddenly.
+
+"What about that nice little woman who may turn up some day?"
+
+The humorous corner of Rivington's mouth went up.
+
+"I think she has, Chirpy," he said. "To tell you the honest truth, I've
+been thinking so for some time."
+
+"You really want to marry me?" Ernestine looked him straight in the
+eyes. "It isn't--only--a chivalrous impulse?"
+
+He met her look quite steadily.
+
+"No," he said quietly; "it isn't--only--that."
+
+Her eyes fell away from his.
+
+"I haven't any money, you know," she said.
+
+"Never mind about the money," he answered cheerily. "I have a little,
+enough to keep us from starvation. I can make more. It will do me good
+to work. It's settled, then? You'll have me?"
+
+"If--if you are sure--" she faltered. Then impulsively, "Oh, it's
+hateful to feel that I've thrown myself at your head!"
+
+His hand closed upon hers with a restraining pressure.
+
+"You mustn't say those things to me, Chirpy," he said quietly; "they
+hurt me. Now let me tell you my plans. Do you know what I did when I got
+back to town the other day? I went and bought a special marriage
+licence. You see, I wanted to marry you even then, and I hoped that
+before very long I should persuade you to have me. As soon as I got your
+telegram, I went off and purchased a wedding-ring. I hope it will fit.
+But, anyhow, it will serve our present purpose. Will you drive with me
+into Rington to-morrow and marry me there?"
+
+She was listening to him in wide-eyed amazement.
+
+"So soon?" she said.
+
+"I thought it would save any further trouble," he answered. "But it is
+for you to decide."
+
+"And--and what should we do afterwards?" she asked, stooping to pick up
+her straw that had fallen to the ground.
+
+"That, again, would be for you to decide," he answered. "I would take
+you straight back to your mother if you wished."
+
+She gave a muffled laugh.
+
+"Of course I shouldn't want you to do that."
+
+"Or," proceeded Rivington, "I would hire an animal to draw the caravan,
+and we would go for a holiday in the forest. Would it bore you?"
+
+"I don't think so," she said, without looking at him. "I--I could
+sketch, you know, and you could paint."
+
+"To be sure," he said. "Shall we do that, then?"
+
+She began to split the straw with minute care.
+
+"You think there is no danger of--Dinghra?" she said, after a moment.
+
+Rivington smiled grimly, and got to his feet. "Not the smallest," he
+said.
+
+"He might come back," she persisted. "What if--what if he tried to
+murder you?"
+
+Rivington was coaxing his pipe back to life. He accomplished his object
+before he replied. Then:
+
+"You need not have the faintest fear of that," he said. "Dinghra has had
+the advantage of a public-school education. He has doubtless been
+thrashed before."
+
+"He is vindictive," she objected.
+
+"He may be, but he is shrewd enough to know when the game is up.
+Frankly, Chirpy, I don't think the prospect of pestering you, or even of
+punishing me, will induce him to take the field again after we are
+married. No"--he smiled down at her--"I think I have cooled his ardour
+too effectually for that."
+
+She shuddered.
+
+"I shall never forget it."
+
+He patted her shoulder reassuringly.
+
+"I think you will, Chirpy. Or at least you will place it in the same
+category as the bull incident. You will forget the fright, and remember
+only with kindness the Knight Errant who had the good fortune to pull
+you through."
+
+She reached up and squeezed his hand, still without looking at him.
+
+"I shall always do that," she said softly.
+
+"Then that's settled," said Rivington in a tone of quiet satisfaction.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+THE KNIGHT ERRANT VICTORIOUS
+
+
+"On the 21st of June, quite privately, at the Parish Church, Rington,
+Hampshire, by the Vicar of the Parish, Cecil Mordaunt Rivington to
+Ernestine, fourth daughter of Lady Florence Cardwell."
+
+Cecil Mordaunt Rivington, with his pipe occupying one corner of his
+mouth, and the other cocked at a distinctly humorous angle, sat on the
+step of the caravan on the evening of the day succeeding that of his
+marriage, and read the announcement thereof in the paper which he had
+just fetched from the post-office.
+
+There was considerable complacence in his attitude. A cheerful fire of
+sticks burned near, over which a tripod supported a black pot.
+
+The sunset light filtered golden through the forest. It was growing
+late.
+
+Suddenly he turned and called over his shoulder. "I say, Chirpy!"
+
+Ernestine's voice answered from the further end of the caravan that was
+shut off from the rest by curtains.
+
+"I'm just coming. What is it? Is the pot all right?"
+
+"Splendid. Be quick! I've something to show you."
+
+The curtains parted, and Ernestine came daintily forth.
+
+Rivington barely glanced at her. He was too intent upon the paper in his
+hand. She stopped behind him, and bent to read the paragraph he pointed
+out.
+
+After a pause, he turned to view its effect, and on the instant his
+eyebrows went up in amazement.
+
+"Hullo!" he said.
+
+She was dressed like a gipsy in every detail, even to the scarlet
+kerchief on her head. She drew back a little, colouring under his
+scrutiny.
+
+"I hope you approve," she said.
+
+"By Jove, you look ripping!" said Rivington. "How in the world did you
+do it?"
+
+"I made Mrs. Perkiss help me. We managed it between us. It was just a
+fancy of mine to fill the idle hours. I didn't think I should ever have
+the courage to wear it."
+
+He reached up his hand to her as he sat.
+
+"My dear, you make a charming gipsy," he said. "You will have to sit for
+me."
+
+She laughed, touched his hand with a hint of shyness, and stepped down
+beside him.
+
+"How is the supper getting on? Have you looked at it?"
+
+He laid aside his paper to prepare for the meal. To her evident relief
+he made no further comment at the moment upon her appearance. But when
+supper was over and he was smoking his evening pipe, his eyes dwelt upon
+her continually as she flitted to and fro, having declined his
+assistance, and set everything in order after the meal.
+
+The sun had disappeared, and a deep dusk was falling upon the forest.
+Ernestine moved, elf-like, in the light of the sinking fire. She took no
+notice of the man who watched her, being plainly too busy to heed his
+attention.
+
+But her duties were over at last, and she turned from the ruddy
+firelight and moved, half reluctantly it seemed, towards him. She
+reached him, and stood before him.
+
+"I've done now," she said. "You can rake out the fire. Good-night!"
+
+He took the little hand in his.
+
+"Are you tired, Chirpy?"
+
+"No, I don't think so." She sounded slightly doubtful.
+
+"Won't you stay with me for a little?" he said. She stood silent. "I was
+horribly lonely after you went to bed last night," he urged gently.
+
+She uttered a funny little sigh.
+
+"I'm sure you must have been horribly uncomfortable too," she said. "Did
+you lie awake?"
+
+"No, I wasn't uncomfortable. I've slept in the open heaps of times
+before. I was just--lonely."
+
+She laid her hand lightly on his shoulder as she stood beside him.
+
+"It was rather awesome," she admitted.
+
+"I believe you were lonely too," he said.
+
+She laughed a little, and said nothing.
+
+He took his pipe from his mouth and laid it tenderly upon the ground.
+
+"Shall I tell you something, Chirpy?"
+
+Her hand began to rub up and down uneasily on his shoulder.
+
+"Well?" she said under her breath.
+
+He looked up at her in the falling darkness.
+
+"I feel exactly as you felt over that squirrel," he said. "Do you
+remember? You wanted to kiss it, but the little fool didn't understand."
+
+A slight quiver went through Ernestine. Again rather breathlessly, she
+laughed.
+
+"Some little fools don't," she said.
+
+He moved and very gently slipped his arm about her. "I didn't mean to
+put it quite like that," he said. "You will pardon my clumsiness, won't
+you?"
+
+She did not resist his arm, but neither did she yield to it. Her hand
+still fidgeted upon his shoulder.
+
+"I wish you wouldn't be so horribly nice to me," she said suddenly.
+
+"My dear Chirpy!"
+
+"Yes," she said with vehemence. "Why don't you take what you want? I--I
+should respect you then."
+
+"But I want you to love me," he answered quietly.
+
+She drew a quick breath, and became suddenly quite rigid, intensely
+still.
+
+His arm grew a little closer about her.
+
+"Don't you know I am in love with you, Chirpy?" he asked her very
+softly. "Am I such a dunderhead that I haven't made that plain?"
+
+"Are you?" she said, a sharp catch in her voice. "Are you?" Abruptly she
+stooped to him. "Knight Errant," she said, and the words fell swift and
+passionate, "would you have really wanted to marry me--anyway?"
+
+His face was upturned to hers. He could feel her breathing, sharp and
+short, upon his lips.
+
+"My dear," he said, "I have wanted to marry you ever since that
+afternoon you met me in St. Paul's."
+
+He would have risen with the words, but she made a quick movement
+downwards to prevent him, and suddenly she was on her knees before him
+with her arms about his neck.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad you told me," she whispered tremulously. "I'm so glad."
+
+He gathered her closely to him. His lips were against her forehead.
+
+"It makes all the difference, dear, does it?"
+
+"Yes," she whispered back, clinging faster. "Just all the difference in
+the world, because--because it was that afternoon--I began--to want--you
+too."
+
+And there in the darkness, with the dim forest all about them, she
+turned her lips to meet her husband's first kiss.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                         A Question of Trust
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+Pierre Dumaresq stood gazing out to the hard blue line of the horizon
+with a frown between his brows. The glare upon the water was intense,
+but he stared into it with fixed, unflinching eyes, unconscious of
+discomfort.
+
+He held a supple riding-switch in his hands, at which his fingers
+strained and twisted continually, as though somewhere in the inner man
+there burned a fierce impatience. But his dark face was as immovable as
+though it had been carved in bronze. A tropical sun had made him even
+darker than Nature had intended him to be, a fact to which those fixed
+eyes testified, for they shone like steel in the sunlight, in curious
+contrast to his swarthy skin. His hair was black, cropped close about a
+bullet head, which was set on his broad shoulders with an arrogance that
+gave him a peculiarly aggressive air. The narrow black moustache he wore
+emphasised rather than concealed the thin straight line of mouth.
+Plainly a fighting man this, and one, moreover, accustomed to hold his
+own.
+
+At the striking of a clock in the room behind him he turned as though a
+voice had spoken, and left the stone balcony on which he had been
+waiting. His spurs rang as he stepped into the room behind it. The floor
+was uncarpeted, and shone like ebony.
+
+He glanced around him as one unfamiliar with his surroundings. It was a
+large apartment, and lofty, but it contained very little furniture--a
+couch, two or three chairs, a writing-table; on the walls, several
+strangely shaped weapons; on the mantelpiece a couple of foils.
+
+He smiled as his look fell upon these, and, crossing the room, he took
+one of them up, and tested it between his hands.
+
+At the quiet opening of the door he wheeled, still holding it. A woman
+stood a moment upon the threshold; then slowly entered. She was little
+more than a girl but the cold dignity of her demeanour imparted to her
+the severity of more advanced years. Her face was like marble, white,
+pure, immobile; but there was a touch of pathos about the eyes. They
+were deeply shadowed, and looked as if they had watched--or wept--for
+many hours.
+
+Dumaresq bowed in the brief English fashion, instantly straightening
+himself with a squaring of his broad shoulders that were already so
+immensely square that they made his height seem inconsiderable.
+
+She gravely inclined her head in response. She did not invite him to sit
+down, and he remained where he was, with his fierce eyes unwaveringly
+upon her.
+
+In the middle of the room, full three yards from him, she paused, and
+deliberately met his scrutiny.
+
+"You wished to see me, Monsieur Dumaresq?" she said in English.
+
+"Yes," said Dumaresq. He turned, and laid the foil back upon the
+mantelpiece behind him; then calmly crossed the intervening space, and
+stood before her. "I am grateful to you for granting me an interview,
+mademoiselle," he said. "I am aware that you have done so against your
+will."
+
+There was something of a challenge in the words, but she did not seem to
+hear it. She made answer in a slow, quiet voice that held neither
+antagonism nor friendliness.
+
+"I supposed that you had some suggestion to make, monsieur, which it was
+my duty to hear."
+
+"I see," said Dumaresq, still narrowly observing her. "Well, you are
+right. I have a suggestion to make, one which I beg, for your own sake,
+that you will cordially consider."
+
+Before the almost brutal directness of his look her own eyes slowly
+sank. A very faint tinge of colour crept over her pallor, but she made
+no signs of flinching.
+
+"What is your suggestion, monsieur?" she quietly asked him.
+
+He did not instantly reply. Perhaps he had not altogether expected the
+calm question. She showed no impatience, but she would not again meet
+his eyes. In silence she waited.
+
+At length abruptly he began to speak.
+
+"Have you," he asked, "given any thought to your position here? Have you
+made any plans for yourself in the event of a rising?"
+
+Her eyelids quivered a little, but she did not raise them.
+
+"I do not think," she said, her voice very low, "that the time has yet
+come for making plans."
+
+Dumaresq threw back his head with a movement that seemed to indicate
+either impatience or surprise.
+
+"You are living on the edge of a volcano," he told her, with grim force;
+"and at any moment you may be overwhelmed. Have you never faced that
+yet? Haven't you yet begun to realise that Maritas is a hotbed of
+scoundrels--the very scum and rabble of creation--blackguards whom their
+own countries have, for the most part, refused to tolerate--some of them
+half-breeds, all of them savages? Haven't you yet begun to ask yourself
+what you may expect from these devils when they take the law into their
+own hands? I tell you, mademoiselle, it may happen this very night. It
+may be happening now!"
+
+She raised her eyes at that--dark eyes that gleamed momentarily and were
+as swiftly lowered. When she spoke, her low voice held a thrill of
+scorn.
+
+"Not now, monsieur," she said. "To-night--possibly! But not now--not
+without you to lead them!"
+
+Pierre Dumaresq made a slight movement. It could not have been called a
+menace, though it was in a fashion suggestive of violence
+suppressed--the violence of the baited bull not fully roused to the
+charge.
+
+"You are not wise, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said.
+
+She answered him in a voice that quivered, in spite of her obvious
+effort to control it.
+
+"Nor am I altogether a fool, monsieur. Your sympathies are well known.
+The revolutionists have looked to you to lead them as long as I have
+known Maritas."
+
+"That may be, mademoiselle," he sternly responded. "But it is possible,
+is it not, that they may look in vain?"
+
+Again swiftly her glance flashed upwards.
+
+"Is it possible?" she breathed.
+
+He did not deign to answer.
+
+"I have not come to discuss my position," he said curtly, "but yours.
+What are you going to do, mademoiselle? How do you propose to escape?"
+
+She was white now, white to the lips; but she did not shrink.
+
+"I beg that you will not concern yourself on my account," she said
+proudly. "I shall no doubt find a means of escape if I need it."
+
+"Where, mademoiselle?" There was something dogged in the man's voice,
+his eyes were relentless in their determination. "Are you intending to
+look to your stepfather for protection?"
+
+Again, involuntarily almost, she raised her eyes, but they held no fear.
+
+"No, monsieur," she responded coldly. "I shall find a better way than
+that."
+
+"How, mademoiselle?"
+
+The brief question sounded like a threat. She stiffened as she heard it,
+and stood silent.
+
+"How, mademoiselle?" he said again.
+
+She made a slight gesture of protest.
+
+"Monsieur, it is no one's concern but my own."
+
+"And mine," he said stubbornly.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No, monsieur."
+
+"And mine," he repeated with emphasis, "since I presume to make it so.
+You refuse to answer me merely because you know as well as I do that you
+are caught in a trap from which you are powerless to release yourself.
+And now listen to me. There is a way out--only one way,
+mademoiselle--and if you are wise you will take it, without delay. There
+is only one man in Maritas who can save you. So far as I know, there is
+only one man willing to attempt it. That man holds you already in the
+hollow of his hand. You will be wise to make terms with him while you
+can."
+
+His tone was curiously calm, almost cynical. His eyes were still fixed
+unswervingly upon her face. They beat down the haughty surprise with
+which for a few seconds she encountered them.
+
+"Yes, mademoiselle," he resumed quietly, as though she had spoken. "He
+is a man whom you despise from the bottom of your soul; but for all
+that, he is not wholly despicable. Nor is he incapable of deserving your
+trust if you will bestow it upon him. It is all a question of trust." He
+smiled grimly at the word. "Whatever you expect from him, that you will
+receive in full measure. He does not disappoint his friends--or his
+enemies."
+
+He paused. She was listening with eyes downcast, but her face was a
+very mask of cold disdain.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, with stately deliberation, "I do
+not--wholly--understand you. But it would be wasting your time and my
+own to ask you to explain. As I said before, in the event of a crisis I
+can secure my own safety."
+
+"Nevertheless," said Pierre Dumaresq with a deliberation even greater
+than her own, "I will explain, since a clear understanding seems to me
+advisable. I am asking you to marry me, Mademoiselle Stephanie, in order
+to ensure your safety. It is practically your only alternative now, and
+it must be taken at once. I shall know how to protect my wife. Marry me,
+and I will take you out of the city to my home on the other side of the
+island. My yacht is there in readiness, and escape at any time would be
+easy."
+
+"Escape, monsieur!" Sharply she broke in upon him. Her coldness was all
+gone in a sudden flame of indignation kindled by the sheer arrogance of
+his bearing. "Escape from whom--from what?"
+
+He was silent an instant, almost as if disconcerted. Then:
+
+"Escape from your enemies, mademoiselle," he rejoined sternly. "Escape
+from the mercy of the mob, which is all you can expect if you stay
+here."
+
+Her eyes flashed over him in a single, searing glance of the most utter,
+the most splendid contempt. Then:
+
+"You are more than kind, Monsieur Dumaresq," she said. "But your
+suggestion does not recommend itself to me. In short, I should
+prefer--the mercy of the mob."
+
+The man's brows met ferociously. His hands clenched. He almost looked
+for the moment as though he would strike her. But she did not flinch
+before him, and very slowly the tension passed. Yet his eyes shone
+terribly upon her as a sword-blade that is flashed in the sunlight.
+
+"A strange preference, mademoiselle," he remarked at length, turning to
+pick up his riding-switch. "Possibly you may change your mind--before it
+is too late."
+
+"Never!" she answered proudly.
+
+And Pierre Dumaresq laughed--a sudden, harsh laugh, and turned to go. It
+was only what he had expected, after all, but it galled him none the
+less. He uttered no threat of any sort; only at the door he stood for an
+instant and looked back at her. And the woman's heart contracted within
+her as though her blood had turned to ice.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+When she was alone, when his departing footsteps had ceased to echo
+along the corridor without, Mademoiselle Stephanie drew a long,
+quivering breath and moved to a chair by the window. She sank into it
+with the abandonment of a woman at the end of her strength, and sat
+passive with closed eyes.
+
+For three years now she had lived in this turbulent island of Maritas.
+For three years she had watched discontent gradually merge into
+rebellion and anarchy. And now she knew that at last the end was near.
+
+Her stepfather, the Governor, held his post under the French Government,
+but France at that time was too occupied with matters nearer home to
+spare much attention for the little island in the Atlantic and its
+seething unrest. De Rochefort was considered a capable man, and
+certainly if treachery and cruelty could have upheld his authority he
+would have maintained his ascendency without difficulty. But the
+absinthe demon had gripped him with resistless strength, and all his
+shrewdness had long since been drained away.
+
+Day by day he plunged deeper into the vice that was destroying him, and
+Stephanie could but stand by and watch the gradual gathering of a storm
+that was bound to overwhelm them both.
+
+There was no love between them. They were bound together by circumstance
+alone. She had gone to the place to be with her dying mother, and had
+remained there at that mother's request. Madame de Rochefort's belief in
+her husband had never been shaken, and, dying, she had left her English
+daughter in his care.
+
+Stephanie had accepted a position that there was no one else to fill,
+and then had begun the long martyrdom that, she now saw, could have only
+one ending. She and the Governor were doomed. Already the great wave of
+revolution towered above them. Very soon it would burst and sweep both
+away into the terrible vortex of destruction.
+
+It was only of late that she had come to realise this, and the horror of
+the awakening still at times had power to appal her. For she knew she
+was utterly unprotected. She had tried in vain to rouse the Governor to
+see the ever-growing danger, had striven desperately to open his eyes to
+the unmistakable signs of the coming change. He had laughed at her at
+first, and later, when she had implored him to resign his post, he had
+brutally refused.
+
+She had never approached him again on the matter, seeing the futility of
+argument; but on that selfsame day she had provided herself with a means
+of escape which could not fail her when the last terrible moment
+arrived. Flight she never contemplated. It would have been an utter
+impossibility. She was without friends, without money. Her relations in
+England were to her as beings in another sphere. She had known them in
+her childhood, but they had since dropped out of her existence. The only
+offer of help that had reached her was that which she had just rejected
+from the man whom, of all others, she most hated and desired to avoid.
+
+She shivered suddenly and violently as she recalled the interview. Was
+it possible that she feared him as well? She had always disliked him,
+conscious of something in his manner that perpetually excited her
+antagonism. She had felt his lynx eyes watching her continually
+throughout the bitter struggle, and she had known always that he was
+watching for her downfall.
+
+He was the richest man in the island, and as such his influence was
+considerable. He had not yet made common cause with the revolutionary
+party, but it was generally felt that his sympathies were on their side,
+and it was in him that the majority hoped to find a leader when the time
+for rebellion should be ripe. He had never committed himself to do so,
+but no one on either side doubted his intentions, Mademoiselle
+Stephanie, as every one called her, least of all.
+
+She had been accustomed to meeting him fairly often, though he had never
+been a very frequent guest at the palace. Perhaps he divined her
+aversion, or perhaps--and this was the more likely supposition--his
+hatred of the Governor debarred him from enjoying his hospitality.
+
+He was a man of fierce independence and passionate temperament,
+possessing withal a dogged tenacity that she always ascribed to the fact
+that he was born of an English mother. But she had never before that day
+credited him with the desire to exercise a personal influence in her
+life. She had avoided him by instinct, and till that day he had always
+seemed to acquiesce.
+
+His offer of marriage had been utterly unexpected. Regarding him as she
+did, it seemed to her little short of an insult. She hardly knew what
+motive to ascribe to him for it; but circumstances seemed to point to
+one, ambition. No doubt he thought that she might prove of use to him
+when he stepped into the Governor's place.
+
+Well, he had his answer--a very emphatic one. He could scarcely fail to
+take her at her word. She smiled faintly to herself even while she
+shivered, as she recalled the scarcely suppressed fury with which he had
+received his dismissal. She was glad that she had managed to pierce
+through that immaculate armour of self-complacence just once. She had
+not been woman otherwise.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+An intense stillness brooded over the city. The night was starless, the
+sea black as ink. Stephanie stood alone in the darkness of her balcony,
+and listened to the silence.
+
+Seven days had elapsed since her interview with Pierre Dumaresq--seven
+days of horrible, nerve-racking suspense, of anguished foreboding, of
+ever-creeping, leaden-footed despair. And now at last, though the
+suspense still held her, she knew that the end had come. Only that
+evening, as her carriage had been turning in at the palace gates, a bomb
+had been flung under the wheels. By some miracle it had not exploded.
+She had passed on unharmed.
+
+But the ghastly incident was to her as the sounding of her own
+death-knell. Standing there with her face to the sea, she was telling
+herself that she would never see the daylight again. The very soldiers
+that guarded them were revolutionists at heart. They were only waiting,
+so she believed, for a strong man's word of command to throw open the
+palace doors to frenzied murderers.
+
+No sound came up to her from the motionless sea, no faintest echo of
+waves upon the shore. The stillness hung like a weight upon the senses.
+There was something sinister about it, something vaguely terrible. Yet,
+as she stood there waiting, she was not afraid. Something deeper than
+fear was in her heart. Pulsing through and through her like an electric
+current was a deep and passionate revolt against the fate that awaited
+her.
+
+She could not have said whence it came, this sudden, wild rebellion that
+tore her quivering heart, but it possessed her to the exclusion of all
+besides. She had told herself a hundred times before that death, when it
+came, would be welcome. Yet, now that death was so near her, she longed
+with all her soul to live. She yearned unspeakably to flee away from
+this evil place, to go out into the wide spaces of the earth and to feel
+the sunshine that as yet had never touched her life.
+
+They thought her cold and proud, these people who hated her; but could
+they have seen the tears that rolled down her face that night there
+might have been some among them to pity her. But she was the victim of
+circumstance, bound and helpless, and, though her woman's heart might
+agonise, there was none to know.
+
+A sudden sound in the night--a sharp sound like the crack of a whip, but
+louder, more menacing, more nerve-piercing. She turned, every muscle
+tense, and listened with bated breath.
+
+It had not come from the garden below her. The silence hung there like a
+pall. Stay! What was that? The sound of a movement on the terrace under
+her balcony--a muffled, stealthy sound.
+
+There was no sentry there, she knew. The sentries on that side of the
+palace were posted at the great iron gates that shut off the garden from
+the road which ran along the shore to the fortress above.
+
+A spasm of fear, sharp as physical pain, ran through her. She stepped
+quickly back into the room; but there she stopped, stopped deliberately
+to wrestle with the terror which had swooped so suddenly upon her. She
+had maintained her self-control admirably a few hours before in the face
+of frightful danger, but now in this awful silence it threatened to
+desert her. Desperately, determinedly, she brought it back inch by inch,
+till the panic in her vanished and her heart began to beat more bravely.
+
+She went at length and opened the door that led into the long corridor
+outside her apartments. The place was deserted. The silence hung like
+death. She stood a moment, gathering her courage, then passed out. She
+must ascertain if the Governor were in his room, and warn him--if he
+would be warned.
+
+She had nearly traversed the length of the corridor when again the
+silence was rent suddenly and terribly by that sound that was like the
+crack of a whip. She stopped short, all the blood racing back to her
+heart. She knew it now beyond a doubt. She had known it before in her
+secret soul. It was the report of a rifle in the palace square.
+
+As she stood irresolute, listening with straining nerves, another sound
+began to grow out of the night, gathering strength with every instant, a
+long, fierce roar that resembled nothing that she had ever heard, yet
+which she knew instinctively for what it was--the raging tumult of an
+angry crowd. It was like the yelling of a thousand demons.
+
+Suddenly it swelled to an absolute pandemonium of sound, and she shrank
+appalled. The sudden, paralysing conviction flashed upon her that the
+palace had been deserted by its guards and was in the hands of
+murderers. She seemed to hear them swarming everywhere, unopposed, yet
+lusting for blood, while she, a defenceless woman, stood cowering
+against a door.
+
+Sheer physical horror seized upon her. The mercy of the mob! The mercy
+of the mob! The words ran red-hot in her brain. She knew well what she
+might expect from them. They would tear her limb from limb.
+
+She could not face it. She must escape. Even now surely she could
+escape. Back in her room, only the length of the corridor away, was
+deliverance. Surely she could reach it in time! Like a hunted creature
+she gathered herself together, and, turning, fled along the way she had
+come.
+
+She rushed at length, panting, into her room, and, without a pause or
+glance around, fled into the bedroom beyond. It was here, it was here
+that her deliverance lay, safe hidden in a secret drawer.
+
+The place was in darkness save for the light that streamed after her
+through the open door. Shaking in every limb, near to fainting, she
+groped her way across, found--almost fell against--her little
+writing-table, and sank upon her knees before it--for the moment too
+spent to move.
+
+But a slight sound that seemed to come from near at hand aroused her.
+She started up in a fresh panic, pulled out a drawer, that fell with a
+crash from her trembling hands, and began to feel behind for a secret
+spring. Oh, she had been a fool, a fool to hide it so securely! She
+would never find it in the darkness.
+
+Nevertheless, groping, her quivering fingers soon discovered that which
+they sought. The secret slide opened and she felt for what lay beyond. A
+moment later she was clasping tightly a little silver flask.
+
+And then, with deliverance actually within her hold, she paused.
+Kneeling there in the darkness she strove to collect her thoughts, that
+she might not die in panic. It was not death that she feared just then.
+She knew that it would come to her swiftly, she believed painlessly. But
+she would not die before she need. She would wait a little. Perhaps when
+the wild tumult at her heart had subsided she would be able to pray, not
+for deliverance from death--there could be no alternative now--but for
+peace.
+
+So, kneeling alone, she waited; and presently, growing calmer, removed
+the top of the flask so that she might be ready.
+
+Seconds passed. Her nerves were growing steadier; the mad gallop of her
+heart was slackening.
+
+She leaned her head on her hand and closed her eyes.
+
+And then, all in a moment, fear seized her again--the sudden
+consciousness of some one near her, some one watching. With a gasp she
+started to her feet, and on the instant there came the click of the
+electric switch by the door, and the room was flooded with light.
+
+Dazzled, almost blinded, she stared across the intervening space, and
+met the steely, relentless eyes of Pierre Dumaresq!
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+She stood motionless, staring, as one dazed. He, without apology or word
+of any sort, strode straight forward. His face expressed stern
+determination, naught else.
+
+But ere he reached her she awoke to action, stepping sharply backwards
+so that the table was between them. He came to a stand perforce in front
+of it, and looked her full and piercingly in the eyes.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he said, and his voice was so curt that it sounded
+brutal, "you must come at once. The palace is in the hands of murderers.
+The Governor has been assassinated. In a few seconds more they will be
+at your door. Come!"
+
+She recoiled from him with a face of horror.
+
+"With you, monsieur? Never!" she cried.
+
+He laid his hand upon the table and leaned forward.
+
+"With me, yes," he said, speaking rapidly, yet with lips that scarcely
+seemed to move. "I have come for you, and I mean to take you. Be wise,
+Mademoiselle Stephanie! Come quietly!"
+
+She scarcely heard him. Frenzy had gripped her--wild, unreasoning,
+all-mastering frenzy. The supreme moment had come for her, and, with a
+face that was like a death-mask, she raised the silver flask to her
+lips.
+
+But no drop of its contents ever touched them, for in that instant
+Pierre vaulted the intervening table and hurled himself upon her. The
+flask flew from her hand and spun across the room, falling she knew not
+where; while she herself was caught in the man's arms and held in a grip
+like iron.
+
+She struggled fiercely to free herself, but for many seconds she
+struggled in vain. Then, just as her strength was beginning to leave
+her, he abruptly set her free.
+
+"Come!" he said. "There is no time for childish folly. Find a cloak, and
+we will go."
+
+His tone was peremptory, but it held no anger. Turning from her, he
+walked deliberately away into the outer room.
+
+She sank back trembling against the wall, nearer to collapse than she
+had ever been before. But the momentary respite had its effect, and
+instinctively she began to gather herself together for fresh effort. He
+had wrested her deliverance from her, but she would never accept what he
+offered in exchange. She would never escape with his man. She would
+sooner--yes, a thousand times sooner--face the mercy of the mob.
+
+"Mademoiselle Stephanie!" Impatiently his voice came to her from the
+farther room. "Are you coming, or am I to fetch you?"
+
+She did not answer. A sudden wild idea had formed in her brain. If she
+could slip past him--if she could reach the outer door--he would never
+overtake her on the corridor. But she must be brave, she must be subtle,
+she must watch her opportunity.
+
+With some semblance of composure she took out a long travelling-cloak,
+and walked into the room in which he awaited her. With a start of
+surprise, she saw him standing by the open window.
+
+"This way, mademoiselle," he said curtly; and she realised that he must
+have entered from the garden.
+
+"One moment, monsieur," she returned, and quietly crossed the room to
+the door at the other end.
+
+It was closed. It must have swung to behind her, for she did not
+remember closing it.
+
+He made no attempt to stop her. He could not surely have guessed her
+intention, for he remained motionless by the window, watching her. Her
+heart was thumping as though it would choke her, but yet she controlled
+herself. He must not suspect till the door was open, till the passage
+was clear before her, and pursuit of no avail.
+
+She reached out a quivering hand and grasped the ebony knob. Now--now
+for the last and greatest effort of her life! Sharply she turned the
+handle, pulled at it, wrenched it with frantic force, finally turned
+from it and confronted the man at the window with eyes that were hunted,
+desperate.
+
+"Let me go!" she gasped hoarsely. "How dare you keep me here against my
+will?"
+
+"I have no desire to keep you here, mademoiselle," he answered. "I am
+only waiting to take you away."
+
+"I refuse to go with you!" she cried. "I would rather die a thousand
+times!"
+
+His brows contracted into a single grim line. He left the window and
+came towards her.
+
+But at his action she sprang away like a mad thing, dodged him, avoided
+him, then leapt suddenly upon a chair and snatched a rapier from a group
+of swords arranged in a circle upon the wall. The light fell full upon
+her ashen face and eyes of horror. She was beside herself.
+
+All her instincts urged her to resistance. She had always shrunk from
+this man. If she could only hold him at bay for a little--if she could
+only resist long enough--surely she heard the feet of the murderers upon
+the corridor already! It would not take them long to batter down the
+door and take her life!
+
+As she sprang to the ground again, Pierre spoke. The frown had gone from
+his face; it wore a faint, ironical smile. His eyes, alert, unblinking,
+marked her every movement as the eyes of a lynx upon its prey. He did
+not appear in the least disconcerted. There was even a sort of terrible
+patience in his attitude, as though he already saw the end of the
+struggle.
+
+"Would it not be wiser, mademoiselle," he said, "to reserve your steel
+for an enemy?"
+
+She met his piercing look for an instant as she compelled her white lips
+to answer. "You are the worst enemy that I have."
+
+He threw back his head with an arrogant gesture very characteristic of
+him. "By your own choice, mademoiselle," he said.
+
+"Yes," she flung back passionately. "I prefer you as an enemy."
+
+He laughed at that--a fiendish, scoffing laugh that made her shrink in
+every nerve. Then, with unmoved composure, he walked to the mantelpiece
+and took up one of the foils that lay there.
+
+"Now," he said quietly, "since you are determined to fight me, so be it!
+But when you are beaten, Mademoiselle Stephanie, do not ask for mercy!"
+
+But she drew back sharply from his advance. "Take one of those rapiers,"
+she said.
+
+He shook his head, still with that mocking smile upon his lips. "This
+will serve my purpose better," he said. "Are you ready, mademoiselle? On
+guard!"
+
+And with that his weapon crossed hers. She knew his purpose the moment
+she encountered it. It was written in every grim line of his
+countenance. He meant the conflict to be very short.
+
+She was no novice in the art of fencing, but she was no match for him.
+Moreover, she could not meet the pitiless eyes that stared straight into
+hers. They distracted her. They terrified her. Yet every moment seemed
+to her to be something gained. Through all the wild chaos of her
+overstrung nerves she was listening, listening desperately, for the
+sound of feet outside the door. If she could only withstand him for a
+few short seconds! If only her strength would last!
+
+But she was nearing exhaustion, and she knew it. Her brain had begun to
+swim. She saw him in a blur before her quivering vision. The hand that
+grasped the rapier was too numbed to obey her behests. Suddenly there
+came a tumult in the corridor without--a hoarse yelling and the rush of
+many feet. It was the sound she had been listening for, but it startled,
+it unnerved her. And in that instant Pierre thrust through her guard and
+with a lightning twist of the wrist sent her weapon hurtling through the
+air.
+
+The sound of its fall was lost in the clamour outside the door--a
+clamour so sudden and so horrible that it did for Stephanie that which
+nothing else on earth could have accomplished. It drove her to the man
+she hated for protection.
+
+As he flung down the foil, she made a swift move towards him. There was
+no longer shrinking in her eyes. She was simply a trembling,
+panic-stricken woman, turning instinctively to the stronger power for
+help. A little earlier she could have died without a tremor, but the
+wild strife of the past few minutes had broken down her fortitude. Her
+strength was gone.
+
+"Monsieur!" she panted. "Monsieur!"
+
+He caught her roughly to him. Even in that moment of deadly peril there
+was a certain fiery exultation about him. He held her fast, his eyes
+gazing straight down into hers.
+
+"Shall I save you?" he said. "I can die with you--if you prefer it."
+
+"Save me!" she cried piteously. "Save me!"
+
+He bent his head, and suddenly, fiercely, savagely, he kissed her white
+lips. Then, before she could utter cry or protest, he whirled her across
+the room to the open window, catching up her cloak as he went; and,
+almost before the horror of his kiss had dawned upon her, she was out
+upon the balcony, alone with him in the awful dark.
+
+He kept his hand upon her as he stepped over the stone railing, but all
+power of independent action seemed to have left her. She was as one
+stunned or beneath some spell. She stood quite rigid while he groped for
+and found the ladder by which he had ascended. Then, as he lifted her,
+she let herself go into his arms without resistance. He clasped her
+hands behind his neck, and she clung there mechanically as he made the
+swift descent.
+
+They reached the ground in safety, and he set her on her feet. The
+terrace on which they found themselves was deserted. But as they stood
+in the dark they heard the fiends in the corridor burst into the room
+they had just left. And Pierre Dumaresq, lowering the ladder, laughed to
+himself a low, fierce laugh, without words.
+
+The next instant there came a rush of feet upon the balcony above them
+and a torrent of angry shouting. Stephanie shrank against a pillar, but
+in a moment Pierre's arm encircled her, impelling her irresistibly, and
+they fled across the terrace through the darkness. The man was still
+laughing as he ran. There seemed to her something devilish in his
+laughter.
+
+Down through the palace garden they sped, she gasping and stumbling in
+nightmare flight, he strongly upholding her, till half a dozen revolver
+shots pierced the infuriated uproar behind them and something that
+burned with a red-hot agony struck her left hand. She cried out
+involuntarily, and Pierre ceased his headlong rush for safety.
+
+"You are hit?" he questioned. "Where?"
+
+But she could not answer him, could not so much as stand. His voice
+seemed to come from an immense distance. She hardly heard his words. She
+was sinking, sinking into a void unfathomable.
+
+He did not stay to question further. Abruptly he stooped, gathered her
+up, slung her across his shoulder, and ran on.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+When Stephanie opened her eyes again the sound of the sea was in her
+ears, and she felt as if she must have heard it for some time. She was
+lying in a chair amid surroundings wholly strange to her, and some
+one--a man whose face she could not see--was beside her, bending over a
+table, evidently engaged upon something that occupied his most minute
+attention. She watched him dreamily for a little, till the immense
+breadth of his shoulders struck a quick-growing fear into her heart;
+then she made a sudden effort to raise herself.
+
+Instantly she was stabbed by a dart of pain so acute that she barely
+repressed a cry.
+
+"Keep still, mademoiselle!" It was Pierre's voice; he spoke without
+turning. "I shall not hurt you more than I can help."
+
+She sank back again, shuddering uncontrollably. She knew now what he was
+doing. It had flashed upon her in that moment of horrible suffering. He
+was probing for a bullet in her left hand. Dumbly she shut her eyes and
+set herself to endure.
+
+But the pain was almost insupportable; it seemed to rack her whole body.
+And the presence of the man she feared, his nearness to her, his touch,
+added tenfold to the torture. Yet she was helpless, and, spent,
+exhausted though she was, for very pride she would utter no complaint.
+
+Minutes passed. She was near to fainting again, when abruptly Pierre
+stood up. She heard him move, and she was conscious of a blessed
+lessening of the pain. But she dared not stir or open her eyes, lest her
+self-control should forsake her utterly. She could only lie and wait in
+quivering suspense.
+
+He bent over her without speaking, and suddenly she felt the rim of a
+glass against her lips. With a start she looked up. His swarthy face was
+close to her own, but it was grimly immobile. He seemed to have clad
+himself from head to foot in an impenetrable armour of reserve. His lips
+were set in a firm line, as though all speech were locked securely
+behind them.
+
+Mutely she obeyed his unspoken command and drank. The draught was unlike
+anything she had ever tasted before. It revived her, renewing her
+failing strength.
+
+"I thank you, monsieur," she said faintly.
+
+He set down the glass, and busied himself once more with her wounded
+hand.
+
+"I shall not hurt you any further," he said, as involuntarily she
+winced.
+
+And he kept his word. The worst of his task was over. He only bathed and
+bandaged with a gentleness and dexterity at which she marvelled.
+
+At last he looked at her.
+
+"You are better?" he asked.
+
+She met his eyes for an instant. They were absolutely steady, but they
+told her nothing whatever of his thoughts.
+
+"Yes, I am better," she said, with an effort.
+
+"Can you walk?" he said.
+
+"I think so, monsieur."
+
+"Then come with me," he rejoined, "and I will show you where you can
+rest."
+
+She sat up slowly. He bent to help her, but she would not accept his
+help till, rising to her feet, she felt the floor sway beneath her.
+Then, with a sharp exclamation, she clutched for support and gripped his
+proffered arm.
+
+"Monsieur!" she gasped.
+
+He held her up, for she was tottering. Her pale face stared
+panic-stricken up to his.
+
+"Monsieur!" she gasped again. "What is this? Where am I?"
+
+He made answer curtly, in a tone that sounded repressive.
+
+"You are on board my yacht, mademoiselle." She swayed, and he put his
+arm round her. "You are in safety," he said, in the same brief fashion.
+
+"As--as your prisoner?" she whispered, trying weakly to free herself
+from his hold.
+
+"As my guest," he said.
+
+By an immense effort she controlled herself, meeting his stern eyes with
+something like composure. But the memory of that single, scorching kiss
+was still with her. And in spite of her utmost resolution, she flinched
+from his direct gaze.
+
+"If I am your guest," she said, her low voice quivering a very little,
+"I am at liberty to come--and to go--as I will."
+
+"Absolutely!" said Pierre, and she fancied for an instant that he
+smiled.
+
+"You will take me wherever I desire to go?" she persisted, still
+battling with her agitation.
+
+"With one exception," he answered quietly. "I will not take you back to
+Maritas."
+
+She shivered. "Then where, monsieur?"
+
+His expression changed slightly. She had a momentary glimpse of the
+arrogance she dreaded.
+
+"The world is wide," he said. "And there is plenty of time before us. We
+need not decide to-night."
+
+She trembled more at the tone than the words. "I did not think you would
+leave Maritas so soon," she murmured.
+
+"Why not, mademoiselle?" His voice suddenly rang hard; it almost held a
+threat.
+
+She had withdrawn herself from him, but she was hardly capable of
+standing alone. She leaned secretly against the chair from which she had
+just risen.
+
+"Because," she made answer, still desperately facing him, "I thought
+that Maritas wanted you."
+
+He uttered a brief laugh that sounded savage.
+
+"That was yesterday," he told her grimly. "I have forfeited my
+popularity since then."
+
+A slow, painful flush rose in Stephanie's drawn face, but she shrank no
+longer from his look. "And you have gained nothing in exchange," she
+said, her voice very low.
+
+"Except what I desired to gain," said Pierre Dumaresq.
+
+She made a slight, involuntary movement, and instantly her brows
+contracted. She closed her eyes with a shudder. The pain was almost
+intolerable.
+
+A moment later she felt his strong arms lift her and a sudden passion of
+misery swept over her. Where was the use of feigning strength when he
+knew so well her utter weakness; of fighting, when she was already so
+hopelessly beaten; of begging his mercy even when he had warned her so
+emphatically that she must not expect it?
+
+Despair entered into her. She could resist him no longer by so much as
+the lifting of a finger. And as the knowledge swept overwhelmingly upon
+her, the last poor shred of her pride crumbled to nothing in a rush of
+anguished tears.
+
+Pierre said no more. His hard mouth grew a little harder, his steely
+eyes a shade more steely--that was all. He bore her unfaltering through
+the saloon to the state cabin beyond, and laid her down there.
+
+In another second she heard the click of the latch, and his step upon
+the threshold. Softly the door closed. Softly he went away.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+And Stephanie slept. From her paroxysm of weeping she passed into deep,
+untroubled slumber, and hour after hour slipped over her unconscious
+head while she lay at rest.
+
+When she awoke at last the evening sun was streaming in through the tiny
+porthole by the head of her couch, and she knew that she must have slept
+throughout the day. She was very drowsy still, and for a while she lay
+motionless, listening to the monotonous beat of the yacht's engines, and
+watching the white spray as it tossed past.
+
+Very gradually she began to remember what had happened to her. She
+glanced at her wounded hand, swathed in bandages and resting upon a
+cushion. Who had arranged it so, she wondered? How had it been done
+without her waking?
+
+At the back of her mind hovered the answers to both these questions, but
+she could not bring herself to face them--not yet. She was loth to
+withdraw herself from the haze of sleep that still hung about her. She
+shrank intuitively from a full awakening.
+
+And then, while she still loitered on the way to consciousness, there
+came a soft movement near her, and in a moment all her repose was
+shattered.
+
+Pierre, his dark face grimly inscrutable, bent over her with a cup of
+something steaming in his hand.
+
+She shrank at the sight of him. Her whole body seemed to contract.
+Involuntarily almost she shut her eyes. Her heart leapt and palpitated
+within her like a chained thing seeking to escape.
+
+Then suddenly it stood still. He was speaking.
+
+"Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said, "I beg you will not agitate yourself.
+You have no cause for agitation. It is not by my own wish that I intrude
+upon you. I have no choice."
+
+It was curtly uttered. It sounded rigidly uncompromising. Yet, for some
+reason wholly inexplicable to herself, she was conscious of relief. She
+opened her eyes, though she did not dare to raise them.
+
+"How is that, monsieur?" she said faintly.
+
+He was silent for a moment; then:
+
+"There is no woman on board besides yourself," he told her briefly.
+"Your own people deserted you. I had no time to search for others."
+
+She felt as if his eyes were drawing her own. Against her will she
+looked up and met them. They told her nothing, but at least they did not
+frighten her afresh.
+
+"Where are you going to take me?" she asked.
+
+"We will speak of that later," he said. "Will you drink this now? You
+need it."
+
+"What is it, monsieur?"
+
+For an instant she saw his faint, hard smile.
+
+"It is broth, mademoiselle, nothing more."
+
+"Nothing?" she said, still hesitating. "You--I think you gave me a
+narcotic before!"
+
+"I did," said Pierre. "And it did you good."
+
+She did not attempt to contradict him. The repression of his manner held
+her silent. Without further demur she sought to raise herself.
+
+But her head swam the moment she lifted it from the pillow, and she sank
+down again with closed eyes and drawn brows.
+
+"In a moment," she whispered.
+
+"Permit me," said Pierre quietly; and slipped his arm under her pillow.
+
+She looked up sharply to protest, but the words died on her lips. She
+saw that he would not be denied.
+
+He supported her with absolute steadiness while she drank, not uttering
+a word. Finally, he lowered her again, and spoke:
+
+"It is time that your wound was attended to. With your permission I will
+proceed with it at once."
+
+"Is it serious, monsieur?" she asked.
+
+"I can tell you better when I have seen it," he rejoined, beginning to
+loosen the bandage. "Does it pain you?" as she winced.
+
+"A little," she acknowledged, with quivering lips.
+
+He glanced at her, and for the first time in all her experience of him
+he spoke with a hint of kindness.
+
+"It will not take long, Mademoiselle Stephanie. Shut your eyes till it
+is over."
+
+She obeyed him mutely. Her fear of the man was merging into a curious
+feeling of reliance. She was beginning to realise that her enforced
+dependence upon him had in some fashion altered his attitude towards
+her.
+
+"No," he said at last. "It is not a very serious matter, though it may
+give you some trouble till it is healed. You will need to keep very
+quiet, mademoiselle, and"--again momentarily she saw his smile--"avoid
+agitating yourself as much as possible."
+
+"You may rely upon me to do that, monsieur," she returned with dignity;
+"if I am allowed to do so."
+
+Again for an instant she felt his eyes upon her, and she thought he
+frowned; but he made no comment.
+
+Quietly he finished his bandaging before he spoke again.
+
+"If there is any other way in which I can serve you," he said then, "you
+have only to command me."
+
+She turned upon her pillow and faced him. The gradual reviving of her
+physical strength helped her at least to simulate some of her ancient
+pride that he had trampled so ruthlessly underfoot.
+
+"What do you mean by that?" she questioned calmly.
+
+He met her look fully and sternly.
+
+"I mean, Mademoiselle Stephanie, precisely what I have said--no more, no
+less!"
+
+In spite of her utmost effort, she flinched a little. Yet she would not
+be conquered by a look.
+
+"I am to treat you as my servant, then, monsieur?" she questioned.
+
+He dropped his eyes suddenly from hers.
+
+"If it suits you to do so," he said.
+
+"The situation is not of my choosing," she reminded him.
+
+"Nor mine," he answered drily.
+
+Her heart sank, but with an effort she maintained a fair show of
+courage.
+
+"Monsieur Dumaresq," she said, "I think that you mean to be kind. I
+shall act upon that assumption. Since I am thrown upon your hospitality
+under circumstances which neither of us would have chosen----"
+
+"I did not say that, mademoiselle," he interposed. "I have no quarrel
+with the gods that govern circumstance. My only regret is that, as my
+guest, you should be inefficiently served. If you find yourself able to
+treat me as a servant it will be my pleasure to serve you."
+
+She did not understand his tone. It seemed to her that he was trying in
+some fashion to warn her. Again the memory of his kiss swept over her;
+again to the very heart of her she shrank.
+
+"I think," she said slowly, "that I am more your prisoner than your
+guest, Monsieur Dumaresq."
+
+"It is not always quite wise to express our thoughts," he rejoined, with
+deliberate cynicism. "I have ventured to point that out to you before."
+
+Again he baffled her. She looked at him doubtfully. He was standing up
+beside her on the point of departure. He returned her gaze with his
+steely eyes almost as though he challenged her to penetrate to the
+citadel they guarded.
+
+With a sharp sigh she abandoned the contest. "I wish I understood you,"
+she said.
+
+He jerked his shoulders expressively.
+
+"You knew me a week ago better than I knew myself," he remarked. "What
+more would you have?"
+
+She did not answer him. She only moved her head upon the pillow with a
+gesture of weariness. She knew that she would search those pitiless eyes
+in vain for the key to the puzzle, and she only longed to be left alone.
+He could not, surely, refuse to grant her unspoken desire.
+
+Yet for a moment it seemed that he would prolong the interview. He stood
+above her, motionless, arrogant, frowning downwards as though he had
+something more to say. Then, while she waited tensely, dreading the very
+sound of his voice, his attitude suddenly underwent a change. The thin
+lips tightened sharply. He turned away.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+After he was gone, Stephanie sat up and gazed for a long, long time at
+the scud of water leaping past the porthole.
+
+She felt stunned by the events of the past twenty-four hours. She could
+only review them with a numbed amazement. The long suspense had ended so
+suddenly and so terribly. She could hardly begin to realise that it was
+indeed over, that the storm she had foreseen for so long had burst at
+last, sweeping away the Governor in headlong overthrow, and leaving her
+bruised and battered indeed, but still alive. She had never thought to
+survive him. She had not loved him, but her lot had been so inextricably
+bound up with his, that she had never seriously contemplated the
+possibility of life without him. What would happen to her? she asked
+herself. How would it end?
+
+There was no denying the fact that, however inexplicable Pierre's
+treatment might be, she was completely and irretrievably his prisoner.
+
+There was no one to deliver her from him; no one to know or care what
+became of her. Her importance had crumbled to nothing so far as the
+world was concerned. She had simply ceased to count. What did he mean to
+do with her? Why had he refused to discuss the future?
+
+Gradually, with a certain reluctance, her thoughts came down to her
+recent interview with him, and again the feeling that he had been trying
+to convey something that she had failed to grasp possessed her. Why had
+he warned her against attempting to define her position? What had those
+last words of his meant?
+
+One thing at least was certain. Though he had done little to reassure
+her, she must make a determined effort to overcome her fear of the man.
+She must not again shrink openly in his presence. She must feign
+confidence, though she felt it not. Something that he had said a week
+before on the occasion of his extraordinary proposal of marriage
+recurred to her at this point with curious force.
+
+"It is all a question of trust," he had said, and she recalled the
+faint, derisive smile with which he had spoken. "Whatever you expect,
+that you will receive." The words dwelt in her memory with a strange
+persistence. She had a feeling that they meant a good deal. It was
+possible--surely it was possible--that if she trusted him, he might
+prove himself to be trustworthy. If only her nerves were equal to the
+task! If only the terrible memory of his kiss could be blotted for ever
+and ever from her mind!
+
+She rose at last and began to move about the little state cabin. It was
+furnished luxuriously in every detail--almost, she told herself with a
+shiver, as though for a bride. Catching sight of her reflection in a
+mirror, she stared aghast, scarcely recognising herself in the
+wild-eyed, haggard woman who met her gaze. Small wonder that she had
+deemed him repressive, she told herself, for she looked like a demented
+creature.
+
+That astounding glimpse did more for her than any mental effort. Quite
+calmly she set to work to render her appearance more normal, and,
+crippled though she was, she succeeded at length in attaining a fairly
+satisfactory result. At least she did not think that a masculine eye
+would detect anything amiss.
+
+This achieved, she finally drew her travelling cloak about her and went
+to the door. It resisted her effort to open, but in a moment she heard a
+step on the other side and the withdrawal of a bolt.
+
+Pierre opened the door for her, and stood back for her to pass. But she
+remained on the threshold.
+
+"Monsieur Dumaresq, why did you lock me in?" she asked him, with
+something of her old stateliness of demeanour, which had made men deem
+her proud.
+
+His grey eyes comprehended her in a single glance. He made her his curt,
+British bow.
+
+"You were overwrought, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said. "I was not sure
+of your intentions. But I see that the precaution was unnecessary."
+
+She understood him, and a faint flush rose in her pale face.
+
+"Quite," she responded. "I have come to my senses, monsieur, and I know
+how to value your protection. I shall not seek that means of escape so
+long as you are safeguarding me."
+
+She smiled with the words, a brave and steadfast smile, and extended her
+hand to him.
+
+The gesture was queenly, but the instant his fingers closed upon it she
+quivered uncontrollably from head to foot. A sudden mist descended
+before her eyes, and she groped out blindly for support. Her overtaxed
+nerves had betrayed her again.
+
+"Come and sit down, mademoiselle," a quiet voice said; and a steady arm
+impelled her forward. "There is something of a swell to-night. I am
+afraid you feel it."
+
+So courteous was the tone that she almost gasped her astonishment. She
+sank into a chair, and made a desperate effort to regain her
+self-control.
+
+"You are very kind, monsieur," she said, not very steadily. "No doubt I
+shall become accustomed to it."
+
+"I do not think you are quite fit for this," he said gravely.
+
+She looked up at him with more confidence.
+
+"I am really stronger than you think," she said. "And I wanted to speak
+to you on the subject of our destination."
+
+She fancied that he stiffened a little at the words, but he merely said:
+
+"Well, mademoiselle?"
+
+"Will you not sit down," she said, "and tell me where the yacht is
+going?"
+
+He sat down on the edge of the table. There was undeniable restlessness
+in his attitude.
+
+"We are running due west at the present moment," he said.
+
+"With what object?" she asked.
+
+"With no object, mademoiselle," he rejoined, "except to keep out of
+reach of our enemies."
+
+"You have left Maritas for good?" she asked.
+
+He uttered a short laugh.
+
+"Certainly. I have nothing to go back for."
+
+"And you are indifferent," she questioned, with slight hesitation, "as
+to the direction you take?"
+
+"No, I am not indifferent," he answered curtly.
+
+She was silent. His manner puzzled her, made her afraid in spite of
+herself.
+
+There followed a short pause, then he turned slightly and looked at her.
+
+"Have you any particular wishes upon the subject?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, monsieur."
+
+Her reply was very low.
+
+"Let me hear them," said Pierre.
+
+"I should like," she said slowly, "if it be possible, to go to England.
+I have relations there who might help me."
+
+"Help you, mademoiselle?"
+
+His tone sounded harsh.
+
+"To earn my living," she answered simply.
+
+His brows met suddenly.
+
+"It is a far cry to England," he observed.
+
+"I know it," she said. "I am counting upon your kindness."
+
+"I see," said Pierre. "I am to take you there, and--leave you. Is that
+it?"
+
+She bent her head.
+
+"If you will, monsieur."
+
+"And if I will not?" he said.
+
+She was silent.
+
+He stood up abruptly, and walked to the farther end of the saloon. When
+he came back his face was set and grim. He halted in front of her.
+
+"I am to do this thing for nothing?" he said. And it seemed to her that,
+though uttered quietly, his words came through clenched teeth.
+
+Again wild panic was at her heart, but with all her strength she held it
+back.
+
+"You offered to serve me, monsieur," she reminded him.
+
+"Even a servant expects to be paid," he rejoined curtly.
+
+"But I have nothing to offer you," she said.
+
+She saw the grey eyes glitter as steel in sudden sunshine. Their
+brightness was intolerable. She turned her own away.
+
+"Does it not occur to you, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said, "that your
+life is more my property than your own at the present moment? Have I no
+claim to be consulted as to its disposal?"
+
+"None, monsieur," she made answer quickly. "None whatever."
+
+"And yet," he said, "you asked me to save you when--had you preferred
+it--I would have died with you."
+
+She was silent, remembering with bitterness her wild cry for
+deliverance.
+
+He waited a little. Then:
+
+"You may have nothing to offer me, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said,
+"but, by heaven, you shall take nothing away."
+
+She heard a deep menace in his voice that was like the growl of an angry
+beast. She shuddered inwardly as she listened, but outwardly she
+remained calm. She even, after a few moments, mustered strength to rise
+and face him.
+
+"What is it that you want of me, Monsieur Dumaresq?" she asked. "How can
+I purchase your services?"
+
+He flung back his head abruptly. She thought that he was going to utter
+his scoffing laugh. But it did not come. Instead, he looked at her,
+looked at her long and piercingly, while she stood erect and waited.
+
+At last: "The price for my services," he said deliberately, "is that you
+marry me as soon as we reach England."
+
+"Marry you!" In spite of her utmost resolution she started, and slightly
+shrank. "You still desire that?"
+
+"I still desire it," he said.
+
+"And if I refuse?" she questioned, her voice very low.
+
+"You will not refuse," he returned, with conviction. "You dare not
+refuse."
+
+She stood silent.
+
+"And that being so," said Pierre, with a certain doggedness peculiarly
+at variance with his fierce and headlong nature, "that being so,
+Mademoiselle Stephanie, would it not be wiser for you to yield at once?"
+
+"To yield, monsieur?"
+
+Her eyes sought his for the fraction of a second. He was still closely
+watching her.
+
+"To give me your promise," he said. "It is all I shall ask of you. I
+shall be satisfied with that."
+
+"And what have you to offer in exchange?" she said.
+
+A strange expression, that was almost a smile, flitted over his hard
+face.
+
+"I will give you my friendship," he said, "no more, no less."
+
+But still she hesitated, till suddenly, with a gesture wholly arrogant,
+he held out his hand.
+
+"Trust me," he said, "and I will be trustworthy."
+
+She knew it for a definite promise, however insolently expressed. It was
+plain that he meant what he said. It was plain that he desired to win
+her confidence. And in a measure she was reassured. His actions
+testified to a patience of which she had not deemed him capable.
+
+Slowly, in unconscious submission to his will, she laid her hand in his.
+
+"And afterwards, monsieur?" she said. "Shall I be able to trust you
+then?"
+
+He leaned slightly towards her, looking more closely into her face.
+
+Then: "All my life, Stephanie," he said, and before she realised his
+intention he had pressed her hand to his lips with the action of a man
+who seals an oath.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+From that hour forward, Stephanie was no longer a close prisoner. She
+was free to wander wherever she would about the yacht, but she never
+penetrated very far. The vessel was no mere pleasure boat, and there was
+much that might have interested her, had she been disposed to take an
+interest therein. But she shrank with a morbid dread from the eyes of
+the Spanish sailors. She longed unspeakably to hide herself away in
+unbroken seclusion.
+
+Her wound healed rapidly, so rapidly that Pierre soon ceased to treat
+it, but it took much longer for her to recover from the effects of that
+terrible night at Maritas. The horror of it was with her night and day.
+
+Pierre's treatment of her never varied. He saw to her comfort with
+unfailing vigilance and consideration, but he never attempted to obtrude
+himself upon her. He seldom spoke to her unless she addressed him. He
+never by word or look referred to the compact between them. Her fear of
+him had sunk away into the background of her thoughts. Furtively she
+studied him, but he gave her no cause for fear. When she sat on the
+deck, he never joined her. He did not so much as eat with her till one
+day, not without much inward trepidation, she invited him to do so. And
+she marvelled, again and again she marvelled, at his forbearance.
+
+Calmly and uneventfully the endless summer days slipped by. Her strength
+was undoubtedly returning to her, the youth in her reviving. The long
+rest was taking effect upon her. The overstrung nerves were growing
+steady again. Often she would sit and ponder upon the future, but she
+had no definite idea to guide her. At first she shrank unspeakably from
+the bare thought of the end of the voyage, but gradually she became
+accustomed to it. It seemed too remote to be terrible, and her reliance
+upon Pierre's good faith increased daily. Somehow, unaccountably, she
+had wholly ceased to regard him as an enemy. Possibly her fears and even
+her antagonism were only dormant, but at least they did not torment her.
+She did not start at the sound of his voice, or shrink from the straight
+regard of those hard eyes. She knew by that instinct that cannot err
+that he meant to keep his word.
+
+They left the regions of endless summer behind at last, and the cooler
+breezes of the north swept the long, blue ridges over which they
+travelled. They came into a more frequented, less dreamlike sea, but
+though many vessels passed them, they were seldom near enough for
+greeting. And Stephanie came to understand that it was not Pierre's
+desire to hold much converse with the outer world. Yet she knew that
+they were heading straight for England, and their isolation was bound
+ere long to come to an end.
+
+It was summer weather even in England just then, summer weather in the
+blue Atlantic, summer everywhere. She spent many hours of each day in a
+sheltered corner of the deck, watching the leaping waves, green and
+splendid, racing from the keel. And a strange content was hers while she
+watched, born of the unwonted peace which of late had wrapped her round.
+She was as one come into safe harbourage after long and futile tossing
+upon the waters of strife. She did not question her security. She only
+knew that it was there.
+
+But one day there came a change--a grey sky and white-capped waves.
+Suddenly and inexplicably, as is the way of the northern climate, the
+sunshine was withdrawn, the summer weather departed, and there came
+desolation.
+
+Stephanie's corner on deck was empty. She crouched below, ill, shivering
+with cold and wretchedness. All day long she listened to the howling
+wind and pitiless, lashing rain, rising above the sullen roar of the
+waves. All day long the vessel pitched and tossed, flinging her back and
+forth while she clung in desperation to the edge of her berth.
+
+Pierre waited upon her from time to time, but he could do little to
+relieve her discomfort, and he left her for the most part alone.
+
+As evening drew on, the gale increased, and Stephanie, lying in her
+cabin, could hear the great waves breaking over the deck with a violence
+that grew more awful with every moment. Her nerves began to give way
+under the strain. It was a long while since Pierre had been near her,
+and the loneliness appalled her.
+
+She could endure it no longer at last, and arose with a wild idea of
+going on deck. The narrow walls of her cabin had become unendurable.
+
+With difficulty, grabbing at first one thing, then another for support,
+she made her way to the saloon. The place was empty, but a single lamp
+burned steadily by the door that led to the companion, and guided her
+halting steps.
+
+The floor was at a steep upward angle when she started, but before she
+had accomplished half the distance it plunged suddenly downwards, and
+she was flung forward against the table. Bruised and frightened, she
+dragged herself up, reached the farther door at a run, only to fall once
+more against it.
+
+Here she lay for a little, half-stunned, till that terrible slow
+upheaval began again. Then, with a sharp effort, she recalled her
+scattered senses and struggled up, clinging to the handle. Slowly she
+mounted, slowly, slowly, till her feet began to slip down that awful
+slant. Then at the last moment, when she thought she must fall headlong,
+there came that fearful plunge again, and she knew that the yacht was
+deep in the trough of some gigantic wave.
+
+The loneliness was terrible. It seemed like the forerunner of
+annihilation. She felt that whatever the danger on deck, it must be
+easier to face than this fearful solitude. And so at last, in a brief
+lull, she opened the door.
+
+A great swirl of wind and water dashed down upon her on the instant. The
+lamp behind her flickered and went out, but there was another at the
+head of the steps to light her halting progress, and, clinging with both
+hands to the rail, she began to ascend.
+
+The uproar was deafening. It deprived her of the power to think. But she
+no longer felt afraid. She found this limbo of howling desolation
+infinitely preferable to the awful loneliness of her cabin. Slowly and
+with difficulty she made her way.
+
+She had nearly reached the top when a man's figure in streaming oilskins
+sprang suddenly into the opening. Above the storm she heard a hoarse
+yell of warning or of anger, she knew not which, and the next instant
+Pierre was beside her, holding her imprisoned against the hand-rail to
+which she clung.
+
+She stood up and faced him, still gripping the rail.
+
+"Take me on deck!" she cried to him. "I shall not be afraid."
+
+She had flung her cloak about her, but the hood had blown back from her
+head, and her hair hung loose. Pierre looked at her in stern silence,
+holding her fast. She fancied he was displeased with her for leaving the
+cabin, and she reiterated her earnest request that he would suffer her
+to come up just for a little to breathe the fresh air.
+
+"It is so horrible below," she told him. "It frightens me."
+
+Pierre was frowning heavily.
+
+"Do you think you would not be my first care?" he demanded, bracing
+himself as the vessel plunged to support her with greater security.
+
+She did not answer. There was a touch of ferocity in the question that
+silenced her. The pitching of the yacht threw her against him the next
+moment, and her feet slipped from beneath her.
+
+Unconsciously almost she turned and clung to the arms that held her up.
+They tightened about her to a grip that made her gasp for breath. He
+lifted her back to the foothold she had lost. His face was more grimly
+set than she had ever seen it.
+
+She wondered if he was secretly afraid. For they seemed to be sinking
+down, down, down into the depths of destruction, and only his close
+holding kept her where she was.
+
+She thought that they were going straight to the bottom, and
+involuntarily her clinging hands held faster. Involuntarily, too, she
+raised her eyes to his, seeking, as the human soul is bound to seek, for
+human comradeship in face of mortal danger.
+
+But the next instant she knew that no thought of danger was in his mind,
+or if it existed it was obscured by something infinitely greater.
+
+His eyes saw her and her only. The fierce flame of his passion blazed
+down upon her, searing its terrible way to her soul, dazzling her,
+hypnotising her, till she could see nought else, could feel nought but
+the burning intensity of the fire that had kindled so suddenly about
+her.
+
+A dart of wild dismay went through her as keen as physical pain, but in
+a moment it was gone. For though he held her caught against his breast
+and covered her face with kisses that seemed to scorch her, it was not
+fear that she felt so much as a gasping wonder that she was unafraid.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+When Pierre let her go, she fell, half-fainting, against the rail, and
+must have sunk at his feet had he not sharply stooped and lifted her.
+Profiting by a brief lull in the tempest, he bore her down the steps and
+into the dark saloon. She lay quite passive in his arms, dazed,
+exhausted, but still curiously devoid of fear.
+
+He laid her upon a cushioned locker by the wall, and relighted the lamp.
+Then, in utter silence, he carried her to her cabin beyond and left her
+there. She had a single glimpse of his face as he turned away, and it
+seemed to her that she had looked upon the face of a man in torture. He
+went away without a word, and she was left alone.
+
+And so for hours she lay, unmindful of the storm, regardless utterly of
+aught that happened, lying with wide eyes and burning cheeks, conscious
+only of that ever-growing wonder that was not fear.
+
+At dawn the wind abated and the yacht began to pitch less. When the sun
+had been up for a few hours, the gale of the night was a thing of the
+past, and only the white-capped waves were left as a laughing reminder
+of the storm that had passed over.
+
+The day was brilliant, and Stephanie arose at length with a feeling that
+she must go up into the sunshine and face the future. The thought of
+meeting Pierre even could not ultimately detain her below, though it
+kept her there considerably longer than usual. After all, was she not
+bound to meet him? Of what use was it to shirk the inevitable?
+
+But when she finally entered the saloon, he was not there. The table was
+laid for breakfast, and a sailor was at hand to serve her. But of Pierre
+there was no sign. He evidently had no intention of joining her.
+
+She made no inquiry for him, but as soon as the meal was over she took
+her cloak and prepared to go on deck. With nervous haste she passed the
+scene of the previous night's encounter. She almost expected to find
+Pierre waiting for her at the top of the companion, but she looked for
+him in vain. And even when she finally stepped upon the deck and crossed
+to the rail that she might search the whole length of the yacht, she
+could not discover him.
+
+A vague uneasiness began to trouble her. The suspense was hard to bear.
+She longed to meet him and have done with it.
+
+But she longed in vain. All through the sunny hours of the morning she
+sat or paced in solitude. No one came near her till her breakfast
+attendant appeared with another meal.
+
+By the end of the afternoon she was thoroughly miserable. She longed
+intensely to inquire for the yacht's master, yet could not bring herself
+to do so. Eventually it began to rain, and she went below and sat in the
+saloon, trying, quite ineffectually, to ease her torment of suspense
+with a book. But she comprehended nothing of what she read, and when the
+young cabin steward appeared again to set the dinner she looked up in
+desperation.
+
+She was on the point of questioning him as to his master's whereabouts;
+the question, indeed, was already half uttered, when her eyes went
+beyond him and she broke off short.
+
+Pierre himself was quietly entering through the companion door.
+
+He bowed to her in his abrupt way, and signed to the lad to continue his
+task.
+
+"He understands no English," he said. "You do not object to his
+presence?"
+
+She replied in the negative, though in her heart she wished he had
+dismissed him. She could not meet his eyes before a third person. It
+added tenfold to her embarrassment.
+
+But when he seated himself near her, she did venture a fleeting glance
+at him, and was amazed unspeakably by what she saw. For his face was
+haggard and drawn like the face of a sick man, and every hint of
+arrogance was gone from his bearing. He looked beaten.
+
+He began to speak at once, jerkily, unnaturally, almost as if he also
+were embarrassed. "I have something to say to you," he said, "which I
+beg you will hear with patience. It concerns your future--and mine."
+
+The strangeness of his manner, his obvious dejection, the amazing
+humility of his address, combined to endue Stephanie with a composure
+she had scarcely hoped to attain.
+
+She found herself able to look at him quite steadily, and did so. It was
+he who--for the first time in her recollection--avoided her eyes.
+
+"What is it, Monsieur Dumaresq?" she asked quietly.
+
+His hands were gripped upon the arms of his chair. He seemed to be
+holding himself there by force.
+
+"Just this," he said. "I find that your estimate is after all the
+correct one. You have always regarded me as a blackguard, and a
+blackguard I am. I am not here to apologise for it, simply to
+acknowledge my mistake, for, strange as it will seem to you, I took
+myself for something different. At least when I gave you my word I
+thought I was capable of keeping it. Well, it is broken, and, that being
+so, I can no longer hold you to yours. Do you understand, Mademoiselle
+Stephanie? You are a free woman."
+
+For an instant he looked at her, and an odd thrill of pity ran through
+her for his humiliation.
+
+She said nothing. She had no words in which to express herself.
+Moreover, her eyes were suddenly full of unaccountable tears. She could
+not have trusted her voice.
+
+After a moment he resumed. "There is only one thing left to say. In two
+days we shall be in British waters. I will land you wherever you wish.
+But you shall not go from me to earn your own living. You will
+accept--you shall accept"--she heard the stubborn note she had come to
+know so well in his voice--"sufficient from me to make you independent
+for the rest of your life. Yes, from me, mademoiselle!" He looked her
+straight in the eyes with something of his old arrogance. "You can
+refuse, of course. No doubt you will refuse. But I can compel you. If
+you will not have it as a gift, you shall have it as--a bequest."
+
+He ceased, but he continued to sit with his eyes upon her, ready, she
+knew, to beat down any and every objection she might raise.
+
+She did not speak. She was for the moment too much surprised for speech;
+but as his meaning dawned upon her, something that was greater than
+either surprise or pity took possession of her, holding her silent. She
+only, after several moments, rose and stood with her face turned from
+him, watching through the porthole the waves that leaped by, all green
+and amber, in the light of sunset.
+
+"You understand me clearly, Mademoiselle Stephanie?" he asked at length,
+in a voice that came harshly through the silence.
+
+She moved slightly, but she did not turn.
+
+"I have never understood you, monsieur," she made answer, her voice very
+low.
+
+He jerked his shoulders impatiently.
+
+"At least you understand me on this point," he said curtly.
+
+She was silent. At length:
+
+"But you do not understand me," she said.
+
+"Better than you fancy, mademoiselle," he answered bitterly. "I do not
+think your feelings where I am concerned have ever been very
+complicated."
+
+Again slightly she moved without looking round.
+
+"I wish you would tell your man to go," she said.
+
+"Mademoiselle?" There was a note of surprise in the query.
+
+"Tell him to go!" she reiterated, with nervous vehemence.
+
+There fell an abrupt silence. Then she heard an imperious snap of the
+fingers from Pierre, followed instantly by the steward's retiring
+footsteps.
+
+She waited till she heard them no longer, then slowly she turned. Pierre
+had not moved from his chair. He was gripping the arms as before. She
+stood with her back to the light, thankful for the dimness that obscured
+her face.
+
+"I--I have something to say to you, monsieur," she said.
+
+"I am listening, mademoiselle," he responded briefly, not raising his
+eyes.
+
+"Ah, but you must help me," she said, and her voice shook a little.
+"It--it is no easy thing that I have to say."
+
+He made a fierce movement of unrest.
+
+"How can I help you? I have given you your freedom. What more can I do?"
+
+"You can spare me a moment's kindness," she answered gently. "You may be
+angry with yourself, but you need not be angry with me also."
+
+"I am not angry with you," he responded half sullenly. "But I can bear
+no trifling, I warn you. I am not my own master. If you wish to secure
+yourself from further insult, you will be wise to leave me alone."
+
+"And if not?" she questioned slowly. "If--for instance--I do not feel
+myself insulted by what happened last night?"
+
+He glanced up at that so suddenly that she felt as if something pierced
+her.
+
+"Then," he rejoined harshly, "you are a very strange woman, Mademoiselle
+Stephanie."
+
+"I begin to think I am," she said, with a rather piteous smile. "Yet,
+for all that, I will not be trifled with either. A compact such as ours
+can only be cancelled by mutual consent. I think you are rather inclined
+to forget that."
+
+"Meaning?" said Pierre abruptly.
+
+She drew a sharp breath. Her heart was beating very fast.
+
+"Meaning," she said, "meaning that I do not--and I will not--agree to
+your proposal; that if I accept my freedom from you, it will be because
+you force me to do so, and I will take nothing else--do you
+hear?--nothing else, either as a gift or as a bequest. You may compel me
+to accept my freedom--against my will; but nothing else, I swear--I
+swear!"
+
+Her voice broke suddenly. She pressed her hands against her throat,
+striving to control her agitation. But she might as well have striven to
+contend with the previous night's storm; for it shook her, from head to
+foot it shook her, as a tree is shaken by the tempest.
+
+As for Pierre, before her words were fairly uttered he had leapt to his
+feet. His hands were clenched. He looked almost as if he would strike
+her.
+
+"What do you mean?" he thundered.
+
+She could not answer, but still she did not flinch. She only threw out
+her hands and set them against his breast, holding him from her. Whether
+or not her eyes spoke for her she never knew, but he became suddenly
+rigid at her touch, standing motionless, waiting for her with a patience
+she found well-nigh incredible.
+
+"Tell me," he said at last, and in his voice restraint and passion were
+strangely mingled, "what is it you are trying to make me understand? In
+Heaven's name don't be afraid!"
+
+"I am not," she whispered back breathlessly, "believe me, I am not. But,
+oh, Pierre, it's so hard for a woman to tell a man what is in her heart
+when--when she doesn't even know that he cares to hear."
+
+"Stephanie!" he said. He unclenched his hands, and slowly, very slowly,
+took her quivering wrists. His eyes would have searched hers, but she
+was looking at him no longer. Her head was bent. She was crying softly,
+like a child that has been frightened.
+
+"Stephanie!" he said again.
+
+She made a little movement towards him, hesitated a moment, then went
+close and hid her face against his breast.
+
+"Oh, do make it easy for me!" she entreated brokenly. "Do--do try to
+understand!"
+
+His arms closed about her. He held her tensely against his heart, so
+that she heard the wild tumult of its beating. But he said nothing
+whatever. He waited for her still.
+
+And so at last she found strength to turn her face a little upwards and
+whisper his name.
+
+"Pierre!" And then, with more assurance, "Pierre, it is true I haven't
+much to offer you. But such as it is--such as it is--and you asked for
+it once, remember--will you not take it?"
+
+"Meaning?" he said again, and his voice was hoarse and low. It seemed to
+come through closed lips.
+
+"Meaning," she answered him quickly and passionately, "that
+revolutionist as you have been, tyrant as you are, you have managed
+somehow to bind me to you. Oh, I was a fool--a fool--not to marry you
+long ago at Maritas even though I hated you. I might have known that you
+would conquer me in the end."
+
+"Has it come to that?" said Pierre, and there was a queer break in his
+voice that might have been laughter. "And have you never asked yourself
+what made me a revolutionist--and a tyrant?"
+
+"Never," she murmured.
+
+"Must I tell you?" he said. "Will you believe me if I do?"
+
+She turned her face fully to him, no longer fearing to meet that
+piercing scrutiny before which she had so often quailed. "Was it for my
+sake?" she said.
+
+He met her look with eyes that gleamed as steel gleams in red firelight.
+
+"How else could I have saved you?" he said. "How else could I have been
+in time?"
+
+"Oh, but you should have told me!" she said. "You should have told me!"
+
+"And if I had," said Pierre, "would you have hated me less? Do you hate
+me the less now that you know it?"
+
+She was silent.
+
+"Tell me, Stephanie," he persisted.
+
+Her eyes fell before his.
+
+"Have I ever hated you?" she said, her voice very low.
+
+"If I did not make you hate me last night," he said, "then you never
+have."
+
+"And I never shall," she supplemented under her breath.
+
+"That," said Pierre, "is another matter. You forget that I am a
+blackguard."
+
+Again she heard in his voice that sound that might have been laughter.
+It thrilled her strangely, seeming in some fashion to convey a message
+that was beyond words. She turned in his arms, responding instinctively,
+and clung closely to him.
+
+"I forget everything," she told him very earnestly, "except that
+to-morrow--or the next day--you will be--my husband."
+
+His arms grew tense about her. She felt his breathing quicken.
+
+"Be careful!" he muttered. "Be careful! Remember, I am not to be
+trusted."
+
+But she answered him with that laughter that is without fear and more
+intimate than speech.
+
+"All that is over," she said, and lifted her face to his. And then, more
+softly, in a voice that quivered and broke, "I trust you with my whole
+heart. And Pierre--my Pierre--you will never again--kiss me--against my
+will!"
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+                          Where the Heart Is
+
+
+
+
+"Of course, I know that a quiet, well-meanin' fool like myself hasn't
+much of a chance with women, but I just thought I'd give you the
+opportunity of refusin' me, and then we should know where we were."
+
+It was leisurely uttered, and without any hint of agitation. The speaker
+was lying on his back at the end of a long, green lawn. His hat was over
+the upper part of his face, leaving only his mouth visible. It was a
+singularly kindly mouth. Some critics called it weak, though there was
+no sign of nervousness about it. The clean lips made their statement
+without faltering, and without apparent effort, and, having spoken,
+relaxed into a faint smile that was pleasantly devoid of
+self-consciousness.
+
+The girl at whose side he lay listened with a slight frown between her
+eyes. She was quivering inwardly with embarrassment, but she would have
+died sooner than have betrayed it. The shyest child found it hard to be
+shy with Tots Waring. His full name was Tottenham, but nobody dreamed of
+using it. From his cradle onwards he had been Tots to all who knew him.
+His proposal was followed by a very decided pause. Then, still frowning,
+the girl spoke.
+
+"Is it a joke?"
+
+"Never made a joke in my life," said Tots.
+
+"Then why don't you do it properly?"
+
+There was a decided touch of irritation in the question. The girl was
+leaning slightly forward, her hands clasped round her knee. Her black
+brows looked decidedly uncompromising, and there was a faintly
+contemptuous twist about her upper lip.
+
+"Don't be vexed!" pleaded Tots. "I suppose you know by experience how
+these things are managed, but I don't. You see, it's my first attempt."
+
+Unwillingly, as it were in spite of itself, the contemptuous curve
+became a very small smile. The girl's dark eyes dwelt for several
+seconds upon that portion of her suitor's countenance that was visible
+under the linen hat. There was a wonderful serenity about the mouth and
+chin she studied. They did not look in the least as if their owner were
+taking either himself or her seriously. Her own lips tightened a little,
+and a sudden gleam shot up behind her black lashes--a gleam that had in
+it an elusive glint of malice. She suffered her eyes to pass beyond him
+and to rest upon a distant line of firs. The man stretched out beside
+her remained motionless.
+
+"Why," she said at last, with slight hesitation, "should you take it for
+granted that I should refuse you?"
+
+"Eh?" said Tots. He stirred languidly, and removed the hat from his
+face, but he still maintained his easy attitude. He had heavy-lidded
+eyes, upon the colour of which most people disagreed--eyes that never
+appeared critical, and yet were somehow not wholly in keeping with the
+kindly, half-whimsical mouth. "I'm not takin' it for granted," he said.
+"I only think it likely. You see, all I have to go upon is this: Every
+one hereabouts is gettin' married or engaged, except you and me. That,
+of course, is all right for them, but it isn't precisely excitin' for
+us. I thought it might be more fun for both of us if we did the same. At
+least, I thought I'd find out your opinion about it, and act
+accordin'ly. If we don't see alike about it, of course, there's no more
+to be said. We'll just go on as we were before, and hope that somethin'
+else nice will turn up soon."
+
+"To relieve our mutual boredom!" The girl's laugh sounded rather hard.
+"Don't you think," she asked, after a moment, "that we should bore each
+other even worse if we got engaged?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know!" Tots laughed too--an easy, tolerant laugh. "Could
+but try, eh?" he suggested. "I'm tired of this everlastin' lookin' on."
+
+"So am I--horribly tired." The girl rose suddenly, with a movement
+curiously vehement.
+
+"But I shouldn't have thought you'd care," she said, with a touch of
+bitterness. "I should have thought a bovine existence suited you."
+
+Tots sat up deliberately and put on his hat. His manner betrayed no
+resentment.
+
+"Really?" he said, with his pleasant smile. "You see, one never knows."
+
+He reached up a hand to her, and, wondering a little at herself, she
+gave him her own to assist him to rise.
+
+He got to his feet and stood before her--a loose-limbed, awkward figure
+that towered above her, making her feel rather small.
+
+"It's done, then, is it?" he questioned, still keeping her hand in his.
+
+She looked up at him with a nervous laugh. Secretly she was wondering
+how far he was going to carry the joke.
+
+"Why, of course," she said. "Can you imagine any sane woman refusing
+such a magnificent offer?"
+
+Though she suffered that ring of mockery in her voice, she was still
+thinking as she spoke that it would serve him right if she frightened
+him well by letting him imagine that she was taking him seriously.
+
+"Good!" said Tots, in the tone of one well pleased with his bargain. "It
+shall be my business to see that you do not regret it."
+
+And with the words he drew her hand through his arm, laughing back at
+her with baffling complacence, and led her down the long lawn with the
+air of one who had taken possession.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ruth Carey had been accustomed to fend for herself nearly all her life.
+Her lot had been cast in a very narrow groove, and it had not contained
+a single gleam of romance to make it beautiful. The whole of her early
+girlhood had been spent buried in a country vicarage, utterly out of
+touch with all the rest of the world. Here she had lived with her
+grandfather, leading a wild and free existence, wholly independent of
+society, hewing, as it were, a way for herself in a desert that was very
+empty and almost unthinkably barren.
+
+Then, when she was eight-and-twenty, a silent, curiously undeveloped
+woman, the inevitable change had come. Her grandfather had died, and she
+had gone out at last beyond the sky-line of her desert into the crowded
+thoroughfares of men.
+
+The gay crowd of cousins with whom she made her home found her
+unattractive, and took no special pains to discover further. They were
+all younger than she was, and full to the brim of their own various
+interests. Of the five girls, three were already engaged, and one was on
+the eve of marriage.
+
+It was at this juncture that Tots had lounged into Ruth's consideration
+and proposed himself as a candidate for her favour.
+
+Tots was a familiar friend of the family. Every one liked him in a
+tolerant, joking sort of way. No one took him seriously. He was to act
+as best man at the forthcoming wedding, being a near friend and the host
+of the bridegroom.
+
+Uniformly kind to man and beast, he had made himself lazily pleasant to
+the unattractive cousin. Circumstance had thrown them a good deal
+together, and he had not quarrelled with circumstance. He had acquiesced
+with a smile.
+
+He made it appear in some fashion absurd that they should not at least
+be friends, and then, having gained that much, he astounded her by
+proposing to her. It was a preposterous situation. Having at length
+freed herself from him, she escaped to the house to review it with
+burning cheeks. It was nothing but a joke, of course--of course, however
+he might repudiate the fact, and she resented it with all her might. She
+would teach him that such jokes were not to be played upon her with
+impunity. She had no one to defend her from this species of insult. She
+would defend herself. She would fool him as he sought to fool her.
+
+But there was a yet more painful ordeal in store for her that night in
+the billiard-room, had she but known it. The morrow's bridegroom, Fred
+Danvers, having failed to execute an easy shot, some one accused him of
+possessing shaky nerves.
+
+"You'll never get through to-morrow if you can't do an easy thing like
+that," was the laughing remark.
+
+Tots looked up.
+
+"Oh, rot! The bridegroom has no business to suffer with the jumps.
+That's the best man's privilege. He does all the work, and has all the
+responsibility. Why, I'm shakin' in my shoes whenever I think of
+to-morrow, but if it were my own weddin' I shouldn't turn a hair."
+
+Young Danvers guffawed at this.
+
+"Bet you'll turn the colour of this table when the time comes, if it
+ever does come, which I doubt!"
+
+"Why?" questioned Tots.
+
+Danvers laughed again, enjoying the joke. Tots was always more or less
+of a butt to his friends.
+
+"In the first place, you'd never have the courage or the energy to
+propose. In the second, no girl would ever take you seriously. In the
+third--"
+
+He broke off, struck silent by a wholly unexpected display of energy on
+the part of Tots, who had suddenly hurled a piece of chalk at him from
+the other end of the room. It hit him smartly on the shoulder, leaving a
+white patch to testify to the excellence of Tots's aim.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said Tots mildly. "But you really shouldn't talk
+such rot, particularly in the presence of my _fiancee_."
+
+He turned round to Ruth, who was shrinking into a corner behind him, and
+with a courtly gesture drew her forward.
+
+"In the first place," he said, addressing the assembled company with a
+good-humoured smile, "I had the courage and the energy to propose only
+this afternoon. In the second place, this lady did me the inestimable
+favour of takin' me seriously. And in the third place, we're goin' to
+get married as soon as possible."
+
+In the astounded silence that followed these announcements, he stooped,
+with no exaggeration of reverence, and kissed the icy, trembling hand he
+held.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ruth never knew afterwards how she came through those terrible moments.
+She was as one horror-stricken into acquiescence. She scarcely heard the
+nightmare buzz of congratulation all about her. The only thing of which
+she was vividly conscious, over and above her dumb anguish of
+consternation, was the fast grip of Tots's hand. It seemed to hold her
+up, to sustain her, while the very soul of her was ready to faint with
+dismay.
+
+She did not even remember later how she effected her escape at last, but
+she had a vague impression that Tots managed it for her. It was all very
+dreadful and incomprehensible. She felt as if she were suddenly caught
+in a trap from which there could never be any escape. And she was
+terrified beyond all reason.
+
+All the night she lay awake, turning the matter over and over, but in
+every respect it presented to her a problem too complicated for her
+solution. When morning came she was tired out physically and mentally,
+conscious only of an ardent desire to flee from her perplexities.
+
+Her cousin's wedding occupied the minds of all, and she spent the
+earlier hours in comparative peace in the bustle of preparation. She saw
+nothing of Tots, and she hoped his responsibilities would keep him too
+busy to spare her any of his attention.
+
+Vain hope! When she went to her room to don her bridesmaid's dress, she
+found a small parcel awaiting her. With a sinking heart, she opened it,
+a jeweller's box with a strip of paper wound about it. The paper
+contained a message in four words: "With love from Tots."
+
+A wild tumult arose within her, and her fingers shook so that she could
+scarcely remove the lid of the box. Succeeding at length, she stood
+motionless, staring with wide, scared eyes at the ring that lay shining
+in the sunlight, as though she beheld some evil charm. The diamonds
+flashed in her eyes and dazzled her, making her see nothing but tiny
+pin-points of intolerable light. Her heart thumped and raced as though
+it would choke her. Unconsciously she gasped for breath. That ring was
+to her another bar in the door of her prison-house.
+
+At an urgent call from one of her cousins, she started and almost threw
+the box, with its contents, into a drawer. Feverishly she began to
+dress. It was much later than she had realised. When she appeared in the
+hall with the other bridesmaids, some one remarked upon her deathly
+pallor, but she shrank away behind the bride, anxious only to screen
+herself from observation. She would have given all she had to have
+avoided Tots just then, but there was no escape for her. He was in the
+church-porch as she entered it, though there was no time for more than a
+hurried hand-clasp.
+
+The church was very hot, and the crush of guests great. She listened to
+the marriage service as a prisoner might listen to his death sentence.
+The irrevocability of it was anguish to her tortured imagination. And
+all the while she was conscious--vividly, terribly conscious--of Tots's
+presence, Tots's inscrutable scrutiny, Tots's triumph of possession. He
+would never let her go, she felt. She was his beyond all dispute. He had
+asked, and she had bestowed, not understanding what she was doing.
+
+There could be no withdrawal now. She could not picture herself asking
+for it, and she was sure he would not grant it if she did. He would only
+laugh.
+
+There fell a sudden silence in the church--a curious, unnatural silence.
+It seemed to be growing very dark, and she wondered, panting, if it were
+the darkness that so smothered her. With a sharp movement she lifted her
+face, gasping as a half-drowned person gasps. And everywhere above,
+around her, were tiny, dancing points of light.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"That's better," said Tots. "Don't be frightened. It's all right."
+
+He rubbed her cheek softly, reassuringly, and then fell to chafing her
+weak hands. Ruth lay back against a grave-mound and stared at him. He
+was wonderfully gentle with her, almost like a woman. On her other side
+one of her fellow bridesmaids was stooping over her, holding a glass of
+water.
+
+"You fainted from the heat," she explained. "But you are better now. I
+shouldn't go back if I were you. It's just over."
+
+With a sense of shame Ruth withdrew her hand from Tots.
+
+"I'm sorry," she murmured.
+
+"Nonsense!" said Tots kindly. "Nobody's blamin' you, my child. It's this
+infernal heat. You stay quietly here for a bit. I must go back and see
+that Danvers signs his name all right. But I'll come and fetch you
+afterwards."
+
+He departed, and Ruth suddenly realised an urgent need for solitude. She
+turned to her cousin.
+
+"Do please go! I shall be all right. It is cool and shady here. And they
+will be looking for you in the vestry. Please go! I will wait till--Tots
+comes back."
+
+Her cousin demurred a little, but it was obvious that her inclination
+fell in with Ruth's request, and it was also quite obvious that Ruth did
+not want her. So, after some persuasion, she yielded and went.
+
+During the interval that followed, Ruth sat in the quiet corner just out
+of sight of the vestry door, bracing herself to meet Tots and implore
+him to set her free. It was a bad quarter of an hour for her, and when,
+at the end of it, Tots came, she looked on the verge of fainting again.
+
+"Sorry I couldn't come before," said Tots. "But my responsibilities are
+over now, thank the gods. I suppose, now, you didn't have time for
+anything to eat before you came?"
+
+This was the actual truth. Ruth owned it with a feeling of guilt. And
+suddenly she found that she could not speak then. There was something
+that made it impossible. Perhaps it was the loud clash of the bells
+overhead.
+
+"I am very sorry," she said again.
+
+Tots smiled.
+
+"You must manage better at our own weddin'," he said. "There's nothin'
+like fortifyin' yourself with a good substantial meal for an ordeal of
+this sort. You're feelin' better, eh? Take my arm."
+
+She obeyed him, still quivering with her fruitless effort to tell him of
+the miserable deception she had unintentionally practised upon him. She
+had a feeling that, if she made him angry, the world itself would stop.
+Surely no one had ever found Tots formidable before.
+
+At the touch of his hand upon hers, she started.
+
+"What's wrong with it?" queried Tots softly. "Doesn't it fit?"
+
+She glanced up in confusion. She was trembling so that she could
+scarcely stand. He slipped his arm about her reassuringly, comfortably.
+
+"Never mind. We must look at it together. I'll take it back if it isn't
+right. We'll go through the church, shall we? It's the shortest way."
+
+He led her, unresisting, back into the building, and the clamour of the
+bells merged into the swelling chords of the organ. As they walked side
+by side down the empty aisle the strains of Mendelssohn's Wedding March
+transformed their progress into a triumphant procession, and Tots looked
+down into the girl's face with a smile....
+
+There was no help for it. She could not tell him to his face. Gradually
+the conviction dawned upon her through another night of racking thought.
+And there was only one thing left to do. She must go.
+
+Soon after sunrise she was up, and writing a note to her aunt. She
+experienced small difficulty in this. It was quite simple to express her
+thanks for all the kindness shown her, and to explain that she had
+decided to pay a visit to her old home. She scarcely touched upon the
+suddenness of her departure. The Careys were all of them sudden in their
+ways. This move of hers would hardly strike them as extraordinary. She
+was, moreover, so much a stranger among them that it did not seem to
+matter in the face of her great need what they thought.
+
+But a note to Tots was a different matter altogether, and she sat for
+nearly two hours motionless above a sheet of paper, considering. In the
+end she was again overcome by the almost physical impossibility of
+putting the intolerable situation into bald words. Simply, she felt
+utterly incapable of dealing with it. He had told her he was not joking.
+She had believed the contrary in spite of this assurance. And she had
+dared to trifle with him, to treat his offer as a jest.
+
+How could she explain, how apologise, for such a mistake as this? The
+thing was beyond words, and at length she gave up the attempt in
+despair. She would send him back his ring in silence, and perhaps he
+would understand. At least, he would know that she was unworthy of that
+which he had offered her. She took the ring from its hiding-place, and
+once more the sunlight flashed upon its stones. For a space she stood
+gazing fixedly, as one fascinated. And then, suddenly, inexplicably, her
+eyes filled with tears, and she packed up the little box hurriedly with
+fingers that trembled.
+
+She directed the parcel to Tots, and put it aside with the intention of
+posting it herself. A tiny strip of paper on the floor attracted her
+attention as she turned. She picked it up. It was only Tots's simple
+message in four short words. She caught her breath sharply as she
+slipped it into her dress....
+
+Home! Ruth Carey stood in the little inn-parlour that smelt of
+honeysuckle and stale tobacco, and looked across the village street. It
+looked even narrower than in the old days, and the pond on the green had
+shrunk to a mere dark puddle. The old grey church on the hill looked
+like a child's toy, and the quiet that brooded everywhere was the quiet
+of stagnation. An ancient dog was limping down the road--the only living
+thing in sight.
+
+The girl turned from the window with a heavy sigh. She was conscious of
+a great emptiness, of a craving too intense to be silenced, a feverish
+longing that had in it the elements of a bitter despair. She had fled
+from captivity to the desert. But she had not found relief. She had
+escaped indeed. But she was like to perish of starvation in the
+wilderness.
+
+She slept that night from sheer weariness, but, waking in the early
+morning, she lay for hours, listening to the cheery pipings of the
+birds, and wondering what she should do with her life. For there was no
+one belonging to her in a truly intimate sense. She had no near ties.
+There was no one who really wanted her, except--The burning colour
+rushed up to her temples. No; even he did not want her now. And again
+the loneliness and the emptiness seemed more than she could bear.
+
+Dressing, she told herself suddenly and passionately that her
+home-coming had been a miserable farce, a sham, and a delusion. And she
+called bitterly to mind words that she had once either read or heard:
+"Where the heart is, there is home."
+
+The scent of honeysuckle and stale tobacco was mingled with that of
+fried bacon as she opened the door of the inn-parlour. It rushed out to
+greet her in a nauseating wave, and she nearly shut the door again in
+disgust. But the sight of an immense bunch of roses waiting for her on
+the table checked the impulse. She went forward into the room and picked
+it up, burying her face in its fragrance.
+
+There was a tiny strip of paper twisted about one of the stalks which
+she did not at first perceive. When she did, she unfolded it, wondering.
+Four words met her eyes, written in minute characters, and it was as if
+a meteor had flamed suddenly across her sky. They were words that,
+curiously, had never ceased to ring in her brain since the moment she
+had first read them: "With love from Tots."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fully five minutes passed before Ruth crossed the room to the
+honeysuckle-draped window, the roses pressed against her thumping heart.
+Outside, an ancient wooden bench that sagged dubiously in the middle
+stood against a crumbling stone wall. It was a bench greatly favoured by
+aged labourers in the summer evenings, but this morning it had but one
+occupant--a loose-knit, lounging figure with a straw hat drawn well down
+over the eyes, and a pipe thrust between the teeth.
+
+As Ruth gazed upon this negligent apparition, it suddenly moved, and the
+next instant it stood up in the sunshine and faced her, hat in one hand,
+pipe in the other.
+
+"Mornin'" said Tots. "Got somethin' nice for breakfast?" His brown face
+smiled imperturbably upon her. He looked pleased to see her, but not
+extravagantly so.
+
+Ruth fell back a step from the window, her roses clutched fast against
+her. She was for the moment speechless.
+
+Tots continued to smile sociably.
+
+"Nice, quiet little place--this," he said. "There's a touch of the
+antediluvian about it that I like. Good idea of yours, comin' here. No
+one to get in the way. It won't be disturbin' you if I sit on the
+window-sill while you have your breakfast?"
+
+Ruth experienced a sudden, hysterical desire to laugh. He was beyond
+her, this man--utterly, hopelessly beyond her.
+
+She sat down at the table, not with the idea of eating anything, but
+from a sense of sheer helplessness. Tots knocked the ashes from his pipe
+and took his seat on the window-sill. He did not seem to be aware of any
+strain in the situation.
+
+After a pause, during which Ruth sat motionless, he turned a little to
+survey her.
+
+"Not begun yet?" he queried.
+
+She looked back at him with a species of desperate courage.
+
+This sort of thing could not go on. She must be brave for once.
+Unconsciously she was still gripping the roses with both hands.
+
+"Mr. Waring--" she began.
+
+"Tots," he substituted gently.
+
+"Well--Tots," she repeated unwillingly, "I--I want to ask you
+something."
+
+"Fire away!" said Tots.
+
+"I want to know--I want to know--" She stumbled again, and broke off in
+distress.
+
+Tots wheeled round as he sat, and brought his long legs into the room.
+
+"Please don't," she begged hastily. "I--I want you inside."
+
+He did not retire again, nor did he advance.
+
+"You want to know--" he said.
+
+With a stupendous effort she faced and answered him.
+
+"I want to know what made you ask me to marry you."
+
+Tots did not at once reply. He sat on his perch with his back to the
+light, and contemplated her.
+
+"I should have thought a clever little girl like you might have guessed
+that," he said at length.
+
+This was intolerable. She felt her courage ebbing fast.
+
+"I'm not clever," she said, a desperate quiver in her voice, "and I--I'm
+not good at guessing riddles."
+
+In the silence that followed, she wondered wildly if she had made him
+angry at last. Then he spoke in his usual good-natured drawl, and her
+heart gave a great throb of relief.
+
+"I think you're chaffin'," he said.
+
+"I'm not," she assured him feverishly. "I'm not indeed. I always mean
+what I say. That is----"
+
+"Of course," said Tots, with kindly reassurance. "I knew that. Why, my
+dear child, that's just what made me do it. I took a likin' to you for
+that very reason."
+
+She stared at him speechlessly. There was absolutely nothing left to
+say. He really cared for her, it seemed. He really cared! And she? With
+a gasp of despair she abandoned the unequal strife, and hid her face
+from him in an agony of tears. Why, why, why, had this knowledge come to
+her so late?
+
+He was by her side in an instant, stroking, soothing, comforting her, as
+though she had been a child. When she partially recovered herself her
+head was against his shoulder, and he was drying her eyes clumsily but
+tenderly with his own handkerchief.
+
+"There! there!" he said. "Don't cry any more. Some one's been troublin'
+you. Just let me know who it is, and I'll wring his neck."
+
+She raised herself weakly. The desire to laugh quite left her. She
+leaned her head in her hands, and forced down her tears.
+
+"You--don't understand," she said at last.
+
+"Don't I?" said Tots. "Why, I thought we were gettin' on so well."
+
+"I know. I know." She was making a supreme effort. It must be now or
+never. "You have been very good to me. But--but--we never have got on
+really. It was all a mistake."
+
+"What do you mean?" said Tots.
+
+She fancied his tone had changed a little. It sounded somehow brisker
+than usual. He was angry, whispered her panting heart, and if she
+angered him--ah, how should she bear it? But the next instant a big,
+consoling hand pressed her shoulder, and the misgiving passed.
+
+"Don't tremble like this, little one," he said. "You can't be afraid of
+me. No one ever was before. There has been a mistake, you say. What was
+it? Can't you bring yourself to tell me?"
+
+There was something in his voice that moved her strangely, kindling that
+in her which turned her passionate regret to tragedy. Her head sank a
+little lower in her hands. How could she tell him? How could she? Yet he
+must know, even if--even if it transformed his love to hatred. The bare
+thought hurt her intolerably. He was the only friend she had. And
+yet--and yet--he must know. She swallowed a desperate sob, and spoke.
+
+"I've been deceiving you. I've trifled with you. When you proposed to
+me--I didn't know--didn't realise--you were in earnest. No one had ever
+proposed to me before. I didn't understand. And when I accepted you--I
+wasn't in earnest either. I--I was just spiteful. Afterwards--when I
+found out--it was too late. I couldn't tell you then."
+
+The confession went haltingly out into silence. She dared not raise her
+head. Moreover, she was weeping, and she did not want him to know it.
+
+There was a motionless pause. Then at length the hand on her shoulder
+began to rub up and down, comfortingly, caressingly.
+
+"Don't cry!" said Tots. "Hadn't you better have some breakfast? That
+bacon must be gettin' pretty beastly."
+
+He was not angry, then. That was her first thought. And then again came
+that insane desire to laugh. After all, why was she crying? Tots
+apparently saw no cause for discomfiture.
+
+With an effort she controlled herself.
+
+"No; I'm not hungry," she said. "Won't you--please--settle this matter
+now?"
+
+"Only stop cryin'," said Tots. "You have? I say, what a fib! Well, I
+suppose I must take your word for it. Now, little one, what is it you
+want me to do?"
+
+She raised her head in sheer astonishment.
+
+No, there was no trace of anger in his face, neither did it betray any
+disappointment. Complacent, kindly, quizzical, his eyes met hers, and
+her heart gave a sudden, inexplicable bound.
+
+"I--thought you would understand," she faltered. "We--we can't go on
+being engaged, can we?"
+
+"No," said Tots with instant decision. "Shouldn't dream of borin' you to
+that extent. I've had enough of it myself as well." He uttered his
+pleasant, careless laugh. "I really don't wonder that my courtin' made
+you feel spiteful," he said. "I'm glad you're in favour of cuttin' it
+too."
+
+Ruth stared at him blankly. Was he laughing at her? Was this to be her
+punishment?
+
+He had straightened himself and was smiling down at her, his head within
+a foot of the bulging ceiling.
+
+"Tell you what!" he suddenly said. "You eat some breakfast like a good
+girl, and then--I'll show you somethin'. Perhaps you'll let me join
+you?"
+
+He did not wait for her consent, but sat down at the table. Ruth rose.
+He was putting her off, she felt, and she could not bear it. It had cost
+her more than he would ever realise to tell him the truth.
+
+"I'm very sorry," she said unsteadily, "but--I don't think we quite
+understand each other yet. You know"--her voice failed suddenly, but she
+struggled to recover it, and succeeded--"I am not clever--like other
+women. I want plain speaking, not hints, I want to be told--in so many
+words--that you have set me free."
+
+"Why should I tell you what isn't true?" said Tots. He stretched out his
+hand to her without rising. "I haven't set you free," he said, "and I'm
+not goin' to. Is that plain enough?"
+
+He caught her hand with the words and drew her gently towards him. "I'll
+tell you what I am goin' to do," he said. "Come quite close. I want to
+whisper. You needn't be anxious. This chair is strong enough for two."
+
+Gentle as he was in speech and action, there was something irresistible
+about him at that moment--something to which Ruth yielded because there
+was no alternative. She went to him trembling, and he drew her down
+beside him, holding her every instant closer to him.
+
+"Still frightened?" he asked her very tenderly. "Still wantin' to run
+away?"
+
+She hid her face against him dumbly. She could not answer him in words.
+
+He went on speaking, softly, soothingly, as if she had been a child.
+
+"People make a ridiculous fuss about gettin' married," he said. "It's
+the fashion nowadays to make a sort of Punch and Judy show of it for all
+the people one ever met, and a few hundreds besides, to come and gape
+at. But you and I are not goin' to do that. We're goin' to show some
+sense, and get married on the quiet, in a little village church I know
+of; and then we're goin' into retirement for a time, and when we come
+out we shall be old married people, and no one will want to pelt us with
+shoes and things. Now I've got a weddin'-ring in my pocket, and I hope
+it'll fit better than the other. And I've got a special license too.
+It's a nice, fine mornin', isn't it? And that's all we want. Let's have
+some breakfast, and then go and get married!"
+
+Ruth raised her head with a gasp. Unexpected as was the whole turn of
+events, she was utterly unprepared for this astounding suggestion.
+
+"But--but--" she faltered.
+
+And then for the first time she saw Tots's eyes, opened wide and looking
+at her with an expression there was no mistaking. He took her face
+between his hands.
+
+"Yes, I know all that," he said, speaking below his breath. "But it
+doesn't count, dear--believe me, it doesn't. The only thing that is
+really indispensable, we have. So why not--make that do?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know," she gasped. "I don't know."
+
+She was quivering as a harp quivers under the fingers of one who knows,
+and her whole soul was thrilling to the wild, tumultuous music that he
+had called into being there. It was almost more than she could
+bear--this miracle that had been wrought upon her. Tots's eyes still
+held her own, and it was as if thereby he showed her all that was best
+in life.
+
+"Why not?" he said again very softly.
+
+And suddenly she realised overwhelmingly how close his lips were to her
+own. In that moment she also knew that greater thing which is immortal.
+And so she answered him at last in his own words, with a rush of
+passionate willingness that swept away all fear:
+
+"Why not?"
+
+As their lips met, it seemed to her that her eyes were opened for the
+first time in her life; and everywhere--above, around, within her--were
+living sparks, dazzling, wonderful, unquenchable, of the Eternal Flame.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+ETHEL M. DELL'S NOVELS
+
+
+THE LAMP IN THE DESERT
+
+The scene of this splendid story is laid in India and tells of the lamp
+of love that continues to shine through all sorts of tribulations to
+final happiness.
+
+
+GREATHEART
+
+The story of a cripple whose deformed body conceals a noble soul.
+
+
+THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE
+
+A hero who worked to win even when there was only "a hundredth chance."
+
+
+THE SWINDLER
+
+The story of a "bad man's" soul revealed by a woman's faith.
+
+
+THE TIDAL WAVE
+
+Tales of love and of women who learned to know the true from the false.
+
+
+THE SAFETY CURTAIN
+
+A very vivid love story of India. The volume also contains four other
+long stories of equal interest.
+
+
+The Way of an Eagle
+
+The Knave of Diamonds
+
+The Rocks of Valpre
+
+The Swindler
+
+The Keeper of the Door
+
+Bars of Iron
+
+Rosa Mundi
+
+The Top of the World
+
+The Obstacle Race
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWINDLER AND OTHER STORIES***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 18644.txt or 18644.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/6/4/18644
+
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