Ethel M. Dell

“ But oh, Daisy,"—her confidence vanished at a breath—"where's the use of talking? He never, never will."
"He will if you let him know," Daisy answered with conviction. "Don't you think you can, dear? Give me just one word for him—one tiny message that he will understand. Only trust him this once—just this once! Give him his opportunity—he has never had one before, poor boy—and I know, I know, he will not throw it away."
"You don't think he will—laugh?" Muriel whispered.
"My dear child, no! Nick doesn't laugh at sacred things."
Muriel's face was burning in the darkness. ”

“ Olga exclaimed, and Nick sent up a wild whoop of applause. Muriel gave a great start and glanced at him. For a single instant his look met hers; then with a sick shudder, she turned aside.
"You are cold," said Grange.
Yes, she was cold. It was as if an icy hand had closed upon her heart.
As from an immense distance, she heard Olga's voice of protest.
"Oh, Nick, how can you cheer?"
And his careless reply. "My good child, don't grudge the poor creature his dinner. Even a bird of prey must live. Come along! We'll go in to tea. Muriel is cold." ”

“ All her life Muriel remembered Daisy's welcome of that evening with a thrill of pain. They met at the gate of the little compound that surrounded the bungalow Will had taken for his wife, and though the light of the sinking sun smote with a certain ruddiness upon Daisy, Muriel was unspeakably shocked by her appearance.
Her white hair, her deathly pallor, the haunting misery of her eyes—above all, her silence—went straight to the girl's heart. Without a single word she gathered Daisy close in her warm young arms and so held her in a long and speechless embrace. ”

“ Was this grotesque figure indeed Nick? Could it be—this man who had sat at the Residency gates for weeks, this man to whom she had so often tossed an alms?
Her brain had begun to reel, but she clung to the central idea, as one in deep waters clinging to a spar.
"Speak to me!" she entreated. "Only speak to me!"
But before he could answer, Bobby Fraser pushed suddenly forward, bent over, lifted her. "You are not hurt, Miss Roscoe?" he questioned anxiously, deep concern on his kindly face. "The damned swine didn't touch you? There! Come back into the palace. You're the bravest girl I ever met." ”

“ Then came another voice, slow and soft as a woman's, and for an instant Muriel covered her face, overwhelmed by bitter memory.
When she looked up they were entering the hall together, Daisy, radiant, eager, full of breathless questioning; Blake, upright, soldierly, magnificent, wearing the shy, pleased smile that she so well remembered.
He did not at once see her, and she stood hesitating, till Daisy, who was clinging to her cousin's arm, turned swiftly round and called her.
"Muriel, dear, where are you? Why are you hiding yourself? See, Blake! ”

“ Grange stopped before it, and spoke with sudden, deep feeling.
"If it does happen, Muriel," he said, using her Christian name quite unconsciously, "we shall have to stand by her, you and I. You won't leave her, will you? You would be of more use to her than I. Oh, it's—it's damnable to see a woman in trouble and not be able to comfort her."
He brought his ungloved hand down upon the gate-post with a violence that drew blood; then, seeing her face of amazement, thrust it hastily behind him.
"I'm a fool," he said, with his shy, semi-apologetic smile. ”

“ And she would start from her sleep to find only a great emptiness, a listening silence, an unspeakable desolation.
If she ever thought of Nick in those days, it was as a phantom that belonged to the nightmare that lay behind her. He had no part in her present, and the future she could not bring herself to contemplate. No one even mentioned his name to her till one day Lady Bassett entered her room before starting for a garden-party at Vice-Regal Lodge, a faint flush on her cheeks, and her blue eyes brighter than usual. ”

“ They did not speak at all, for the ground beneath their feet was holy, and all things that called for speech were left behind. Only as dawn became day—as the sun-god mounted triumphant above the waiting earth—the man's arm tightened about the woman, and his flickering eyes grew steadfast and reverent as the eyes of one who sees a vision....
"'Prophet and priestess we came—back from the dawning,'" quoted Nick, under his breath.
Muriel uttered a long, long sigh, and turned her face against her husband's shoulder. ”

“ She is asleep, you know, Nick, and it is for you to waken her, but gradually—oh, very gradually—or she will start up in the old nightmare terror again. If she doesn't love you yet, she is very near it. But you will only win her by waiting for her. Never do anything sudden. Always remember what a child she is, though she has outgrown her years. And children, you know, though they will trust those they love to the uttermost, are easily frightened."
Nick knew that she was right. He knew also that he was steadily gaining ground, and that knowledge helped him more than all Daisy's counsels. ”

“ Later, hand in hand, they looked across the valley to the shining crags that glistened spear-like in the sun.
A great silence lay around them—a peace unspeakable—that those silver crests lifted into the splendour of Infinity.
They stood alone together—above the world—with their faces to the mountains.
And thus standing with the woman he loved, Nick spoke, briefly—it seemed lightly—yet with a certain tremor in his voice.
"Horses," he said—"and chariots—of fire!" And Muriel looked at him with memory and understanding in her eyes. ”

“ Lady Bassett raised no further remonstrance beyond a faint, eloquent lift of the shoulders. And Muriel went away into the shady compound, her step firmer and her dark head decidedly higher than usual. She felt for Nick's gift as she went, with a little secret sensation of pleasure. After all, why had she been afraid? All girls wore rings when they became engaged to be married.
Reaching her favourite corner, she drew it forth from its hiding-place, a quiver of excitement running through her.
She was sitting in the hammock under the pines as she unwrapped it. ”

“ Instantly Nick straightened himself and turned away. He went to the window and leaned his head against the sash. He had the spent look of a man who has fought to the end of his strength. The thunder of the waves upon the shore filled in the long, long silence.
Minutes crawled away, and still he stood there with his face to the darkness. At last a voice spoke behind him, and he turned. Daisy had risen.
She stood in the lamplight, quite calm and collected. There was even a smile upon her face, but it was a smile that was sadder than tears. ”

“ Youth and health, and a dawning, unconscious beauty had sprung to life upon her face. She was no longer the frightened, bereft child of Simla days. She no longer hid a monstrous fear in her heart. She had put it all away from her wisely, resolutely, as a tale that is told.
The wild wind had blown the hair all loose about her face by the time the last goal was won. Hatless, flushed, and laughing, she drew back from the fray, Olga, elated by victory, clinging to her arm. ”

“ She shivered ever so slightly. It was not an exciting prospect—life with Blake. He was quite sure to be kind to her. He would consider her in every way. But was that after all quite all she wanted? A great sigh welled suddenly up from the bottom of her heart. Life was ineffably dreary—when it was not revoltingly horrible.
"Shall I tell you what is the matter?" said Nick.
She started violently, and found him leaning across the flat rock on which she was seated. His eyes were remarkably bright. She had a feeling that he suppressed a laugh as his look flickered over her. ”

“ Out of the glare of the lamplight she looked more normal. She wore a grey travelling-dress, but her hat was off. He fancied he saw the sparkle of the starlight in her hair.
She came towards him a few steps, and then she stopped. "Will," she said, and her voice had a piteous tremble in it, "won't you speak to me? Don't you—don't you know me?"
Her voice awoke him, brought him down from the soaring heights of imagination as it were with a thud. He strode forward and caught her hands in his.
"Good heavens, Daisy!" he said. "I thought I was dreaming! ”

“ Muriel did not know how she uttered the words; they seemed to come without her own volition. She was conscious of a choking sensation within her as though iron bands were tightening about her heart. It beat in leaps and bounds like a tortured thing striving to escape. But through it all she sat quite motionless, her eyes fixed upon Lady Bassett's face, noting its faint, wry smile, as the eyes of a prisoner on the rack might note the grim lines on the face of the torturer. ”

“ For she knew Nick Ratcliffe as very few knew him. The bond of sympathy between them was very strong.
"Can you imagine any girl falling in love with me?" he asked.
"Of course I can. You are not so unique as that. There isn't a man in the universe that some woman couldn't be fool enough to love."
"Many thanks!" said Nick. "Then—I may count upon your support, may I? I know Lady Bassett will put a spoke in my wheel if she can. But I have Sir Reginald's consent. He is Muriel's guardian, you know. Also, I had her father's approval in the first place. It has got to be soon, you see, Daisy. ”

“ Grange remarked, with his eyes on the dazzling sea.
"No doubt you would," Nick responded dryly. "And what should you advise, Muriel?"
The question was unexpected, but she had herself in hand, and answered it instantly. "I certainly shouldn't advise you to quit."
He raised his eyebrows. "Might one ask why?"
She was quite ready for him, inspired by an overmastering longing to hurt him if that were possible. "Because if you gave up your profession, you would be nothing but a vacuum. If the chance to destroy life were put out of your reach, you would simply cease to exist." ”

“ Nick's grin leapt goblin-like across his face and was gone. "I never expected it of you," he told her coolly. "You would sooner die than admit it, simply because it would be infinitely easier for you to die. You will be false to yourself, false to Grange, false to me, rather than lower that miserable little rag of pride that made you jilt me at Simla. I didn't blame you so much then. You were only a child. You didn't understand. But that excuse won't serve you now. You are a woman, and you know what Love is. ”

“ Every pulse was beating with warm, vigorous life.
She laughed aloud in sheer exultation, a low, merry laugh, and turned with Olga to march in triumphant procession from the field.
In that instant from a gate a few yards away that led into the road there sounded the short, imperious note of a motor-horn, repeated many times in a succession of sharp blasts. Every one stood to view the intruder with startled curiosity for perhaps five seconds. Then there came a sudden squeal of rapture from Olga, and in a moment she had torn her arm free and was gone, darting like a swallow over the turf. ”

“ What he said, she could not hear in that tumult of mighty sound. Only she felt his insistence, answered to it, was mastered by it.
White-faced, with horror clutching at her heart, she undid the catch. His one hand, strong, instinct with energy, helped her to raise the sash. In a moment he was in the room, bare-headed, drenched from head to foot.
She fell back before him, but he scarcely looked at her. He shut the window sharply, then strode to the lamp, and turned it up. Then, abruptly he wheeled and spoke in a voice half-kindly, half-contemptuous. "Muriel, you're a little idiot!" ”

“ Do you think you will ever manage to forget what you have sacrificed to this fetish you call Love,—how you broke the heart of one of the best fellows in the world, and trampled upon the memory of your dead child—the little chap you used to call the light of your eyes, who used to hold out his arms directly he saw you and cry when you went away? ”

“ She stuck firmly to her point, notwithstanding Muriel's equally persistent attitude of incredulity, till even Muriel was conscious at last in her inner soul of a faint wonder, a dim and wholly negligible sense of regret. Not that she would under any circumstances have recalled that thrust of hers. She felt it had been dealt in fair fight; but even in fair fight there come sometimes moments of regret, when one feels that the enemy's hand has been intentionally slack. She knew well that, had he chosen, Nick might have thrust back, instantly and disconcertingly, as his manner was. ”

“ Nick moved sharply drawing close to her. "Never?" he said again; then with abrupt vehemence, "Daisy, you don't mean that! You didn't say it!"
She drew back slightly from him, but her answer was perfectly steady, rigidly determined. "I have said it, Nick. And I meant it. You had better go. You will do no good by staying to argue. I know all that you can possibly say, and it makes no difference to me. I have chosen."
"What have you chosen?" he demanded.
For an instant she hesitated. ”

“ Nick said insistently. "It had to do with your engagement to Muriel Roscoe. Perhaps you have forgotten that too?"
Grange looked up then, shaking off his lethargy with a visible effort. He got slowly to his feet, and drew himself up to his full giant height.
"No," he said, "I have not forgotten it."
"Then," said Nick, "once more—what are you going to do?"
Grange's face darkened. He seemed to hesitate upon the verge of vehement speech. But he restrained himself though the hot blood mounted to his temples.
"I have never yet broken my word to a woman," he said. "I am not going to begin now." ”

“ Muriel's voice held a curious mixture of mirth and sadness. "It—it isn't a bit funny to talk like that. It isn't even particularly kind."
"Ye gods!" said Nick. "Who wants to be kind?"
"Not you, evidently," she told him with a hint of bitterness. "You only aim at being intelligent."
"Well, you'll admit I hit the mark sometimes," he rejoined. "I'm like a rat, eh? Clever but loathsome."
She uttered a quivering laugh. "No, you are much more like an eagle, waiting to strike. Why don't you, I wonder, and—and take what you want?"
Nick's answering laugh had a mocking note in it. ”

“ And Muriel, steadying herself by the mantelpiece, watched him with a panting heart.
Then abruptly, moving with a quick, light tread that made no sound, he crossed the room to one of the wide-flung windows and stopped there.
From across the quiet garden there came the strains of "The Blue Danube," fitful, alluring, plaintive—that waltz to which countless lovers have danced and wooed and whispered through the years. Muriel longed intensely to shut it out, to stop her ears, to make some noise to drown it. ”

“ Muriel paused often in her walk. She was sorry to leave the little fishing-village, realising that she had been very happy there. Life had passed as smoothly as a dream of late, so smoothly that she had been content to live in the present with scarcely a thought for the future.
This afternoon she had begun to realise that her peaceful time was drawing to an end. In a few weeks more, she would be in town in all the bustle of preparation. And further still ahead of her—possibly two months—there loomed the prospect of her return to India, of Lady Bassett's soft patronage, of her marriage. ”

“ She was shaking as one in an ague.
Quietly he drew the head-covering over the baby's face. "My dear," he said, "there is no death."
The words were few, spoken almost in an undertone; but they sent a curious, tingling thrill through Muriel—a thrill that seemed to reach her heart. For the first time, unaccountably, wholly intangibly, she was aware of a strong resemblance between this man whom she honoured and the man she feared. She almost felt as if Nick himself had uttered the words. ”