Tryst

“ So cold did she seem that he felt great shame growing within his heart, for it flashed on him in a moment that she despised this faith of his.
“Tristan,” she said, very solemnly, as though plotting to challenge his honour.
He rose up and faced her with folded arms.
“Tristan,” and there was more passion in her voice, “I have borne much, suffered many things from the evil men have conceived against my soul. Ah, God! I have lived in hell these many weeks. I am a woman, and I am alone. By your manhood, swear to me you will not trick my trust.” ”

“ There was something, too, in her expression, in the look of the brown eyes, that had all the appeal, the wistfulness of an anxious, frightened child. There was nothing mature about her save her mouth, which was firm, even obstinate.
Major Tristram came to her and gave her his big hand.
"I'm back for only a few hours," he explained, "and then my victims have me again. But it's good to catch a glimpse of anything so fresh as yourself. Isn't the sun ever going to wither you like other mortals?"
The smile dawned shyly about the corners of her lips. ”

“ But had Tristan known that trial by combat was to be denied him, certainly he would not have suffered it.
For he trusted in God and knew no man dared draw sword against him in the lists. And truly he did well to trust in God, for though the felons mocked him when he said he had loved loyally, yet I call you to witness, my lords who read this, and who know of the philtre drunk upon the high seas, and who understand whether his love were disloyalty indeed. For men see this and that outward thing, but God alone the heart, and in the heart alone is crime and the sole final judge is God. ”

“ As he came within the lights of the verandah she waved to him, and he saluted her with a chivalrous dignity.
Then he toppled from his seat into Tristram's arms.
They carried him into the bungalow and set him gently on one of the sofas. His wife knelt down beside him and he put his arm about her and held her close to him.
"There is nothing to be done—the whole breast. I am too old a soldier not to know. Please leave us these few minutes. We have so much to say to one another." But to Tristram he gave his hand, drawing him down so that his face almost touched the dying lips. ”

“ She had taken an involuntary step forward to meet whatever was to come, the knife clenched in her right hand; but, as she saw Tristram, she relaxed with a short, shuddering sigh and her hand sank. He stood leaning with his shoulders against the door, staring at her. His clothes were torn and blood-stained. There was something wild and violent in his face which she had never seen before—the look of a fighter straight from a struggle in which every nerve and sinew has been put to a dire test—in which all the primitive passions of men have risen like wolf-hounds tugging at the leash. ”

“ A flicker of the old mockery shone in her eyes.
"You don't look very well, Major Tristram," she said.
He shook his head.
"Oh, I'm well enough—physically at any rate." He laid his hand on his heart with a rueful laugh. "I've got a sort of spiritual indigestion though—it's this life—it doesn't suit me or my tabbies. It's too neat and tidy. I'm like that what's-his-name person who had to put his hand to his mother earth to keep strong. I need to be doing and fighting, struggling for existence in my mother wilderness to keep decent. ”

“ TRISTRAM.
Thou art come, indeed; thou hast rejoined me;
Thou hast dared it—but too late to save.
Fear not now that men should tax thine honor!
I am dying; build (thou may’st) my grave.{144}
ISEULT.
Tristram, ah! for love of heaven, speak kindly!
What! I hear these bitter words from thee?
Sick with grief I am, and faint with travel;
Take my hand—dear Tristram, look on me!
TRISTRAM.
I forgot, thou comest from thy voyage ”

“ And he covered her hands with burning kisses. After his passionate outburst had died to silence she spoke quietly, tremulously.
"Tristan," she began, and paused as if she were summoning courage to do that which she must. "Tristan, this may not be."
"I love you," he sobbed. "I love you! This is all I know! All I shall ever know. How can I support life without you? heart of my heart—soul of my soul?—What must I do, to win you for my own—to give you happiness?" ”

“ The tone was utterly final. Trix felt the old childish fear of him surging over her. It was quite different from the nervousness she had just been experiencing, and, oddly enough, it gave her a kind of desperate courage. She had no intention of accepting his refusal without a struggle.
“I wouldn’t tell unless it became absolutely necessary,” she urged.
“It never can be absolutely necessary,” he retorted. “It would be no more dishonourable to tell a lie than break a promise.”
Trix went scarlet. ”

“ For as Tristan and his guards went down from the town to where the faggot burned, near the road upon a rock was a chantry, it stood at a cliff’s edge steep and sheer, and it turned to the sea-breeze; in the apse of it were windows glazed. Then Tristan said to those with him:
“My lords, let me enter this chantry, to pray for a moment the mercy of God whom I have offended; my death is near. There is but one door to the place, my lords, and each of you has his sword drawn. ”

“ You are strong for years. You live alone for years. Then comes the sentimental moment and it's we who suffer, not you."
And deep in Thresk's mind was the terror of the mistakes people make in ignorance of each other, and of the mortal hurt the mistakes inflict. He had misread Stella. Here was she misreading him and misreading him in some strange way to her peril and ruin.
"You are sure of that?" he asked. She had no doubt—no more doubt than he had had of the reason why she stood preparing her rifle. ”

“ Whence springs this fear of yours, dear Tristan? Has not he to whom I once bound myself in a thoughtless moment, he who never understood, or cared to understand my nature, he whose cruelty and neglect have made me what I am to-day, lost every right, human or divine? Am I more than a woman and are you less than a man that you should tremble for the confession which, in a wild moment, I have dragged from you? ”

“ Tristan, I love you with a love so idolatrous, that I could slay you with these hands rather than be spurned, be denied by you. Love me Tristan—love me! And I shall give you such love in return as mortals have never known. I am as one in a trance—I cannot see—I cannot think! I, the woman born to command—am begging—imploring—I care not what you do with me—what becomes of me. ”

“ So Brangien went to the hall where the fool still sat alone. Tristan knew her and let fall his club and said:
“Brangien, dear Brangien, before God! have pity on me!”
“Foul fool,” she answered, “what devil taught you my name?”
“Lady,” he said, “I have known it long. By my head, that once was fair, if I am mad the blame is yours, for it was yours to watch over the wine we drank on the high seas. The cup was of silver and I held it to Iseult and she drank. Do you remember, lady?” ”

“ For a moment or so Orr looked him in silence up and down; then, turning to one of those who were standing round:
‘What’s his name?’ he asked.
‘Tristram, Orr! Jaspar Tristram!’ they all shouted out. ‘Did you ever hear such a name?’
‘Oh, well,’ said Orr, ‘of course we can’t have such a rotten name as that here! What shall we call him?’
‘I votes we call him “Rosy ” as he blushes so!’ observed the good-looking small boy who stood by Orr; and even as he was speaking Jaspar noticed what a curious charm there was in his voice. Everybody began to applaud:
‘Rosy, Rosy!’ they cried. ”

“ The leper stood at his side in silence. He had been watching Tristan’s face, with the bloom of youth thereon, pondering the while on the misery of his own hard lot. The world and the splendour thereof mocked his shrivelled and repulsive skin. As for Tristan, he seemed like a young god destined to trample down fate with the serene calm of a fearless fortune. The leper turned from the warm south with the bitterness of a man who beholds life’s pathway curling towards the grave.
“Yonder, messire, is La Vallée Joyeuse,” he said. “The saints defend you. As for me, I wander on towards death.” ”

“ Presently the Besotted Wretch got up, and taking the india rubber rings out of the net with a trembling hand, began throwing them one at a time at the hooks on the board. The rest of the company watched him with much interest, laughing when he made a very bad shot and applauding when he scored.
''E's a bit 'orf to-night,' remarked Philpot aside to Easton, 'but as a rule 'e's a fair knock out at it. Throws a splendid ring!'
The Semi-Drunk regarded the proceedings of the Besotted Wretch with an expression of profound contempt.
'You can't play for nuts,' he said, scornfully. ”

“ He caressed her hand gently, and then walked away to the window.
'Yes, I used to feel that,' said Trix softly. 'I came and told you even—even bad things.'
[Pg 316]
'You chose your man well,' he went on. 'Better than you knew. If you had known, it wouldn't have been fair to choose a confessor so much worse than yourself. But you didn't know. I believe you thought quite highly of me!' There was no bitterness about him, rather a tone of exultation, almost of amusement. He took hold of a chair, brought it nearer to her, and rested his knee on it. ”

“ Apple. “To recall your attention, Tristo, to the subject from which we passed so suddenly to a more serious one, what think you of those who ‘wit-wanton it’ with things sacred, who at every breath break over the bounds of modesty, and outrage our sympathies with the true and the beautiful, for the sake of a momentary, and not unfrequently a shame-faced laugh?”
Tristo. “Such persons do themselves and others more injury than they think. Their incessant insults to all refinement and delicacy of feeling, if unresented and unguarded against, at length deaden and efface these sentiments. ”

“ What could be wanting in my father but to have wrote a book to publish this notion of his to the world? Little boots it to the subtle speculatist to stand single in his opinions,—unless he gives them proper vent:—It was the identical thing which my father did:—for in the year sixteen, which was two years before I was born, he was at the pains of writing an express Dissertation simply upon the word Tristram,—shewing the world, with great candour and modesty, the grounds of his great abhorrence to the name. ”

“ A mass of passion and virile power, he faced the peasantry like a prophet of God.
As Tristan watched him, he began to speak, moving his hands to time his words. His voice bewitched from the first sound, and the simple folk before him were as still as stones. ”

“ I was almost certain tonight. I understood your principles—you wouldn't ask a woman to share your life—but I know what Anne feels—she'd stick by you, Tristram——" He faltered, the thread of his argument lost in a sudden ugly sense of uncertainty. He saw Tristram's face in the shadow, and its sheer expressionlessness frightened him. "I suppose I've behaved like a fool," he said. "A man who cares as I do is liable to become obsessed with an idea. Forget it——"
Tristram started a little, as though awakening from a deep mental abstraction. ”

“ He cut Sir Tristram short.
"I have heard too much already. Triggs, I have allowed my friendship for you to play havoc with my discretion; let me hear no more. My advice to you is compromise, compromise, at almost any cost. You don't want to have your career ruined by a girl, and for the mere shadow of a kiss. To consider nothing else, think of the laughter there would be. As you say, the young woman can be dangerous, and, if nothing happens to change her purpose, you may take my word for it that she means to be."
Before Sir Tristram could reply the Duke was gone. ”

“ A thought of Tristram here, of his kisses and strong arms about her, made her heart beat. The wild joy of being possessed by so fine a creature was not to be denied, once you blinked the truth that in the very act of taking possession he would despise you for suffering it. That had to be blinked, though. Whatever she might have become by right of marriage, by intercourse with Tristram’s own world, by familiarity with its ways—to Tristram she was still a little governess, sent into this world to be kissed and fondled—but no possible companion for a gentleman, or man of parts. ”

“ Tristram was master of implication, and her master there. Throughout his airy monologue he had taken her for granted—her and her origin, her humility, her subservience to his nod, her false position with Germain, her false position now. Why, his very amiability, his deference to her opinion, his tentative approach—what were these but implications of his passion for her, a passion so strong that it could bend his arrogant back, and show a Tristram Duplessis at the feet of a Mary Middleham? She writhed, she burned to feel these things, and to be powerless against such attack. ”

“ Tristram did not answer immediately. They were going uphill, and he gave the pony his head, letting him manage the ascent after his own fashion.
"It takes a lot to console a man when his machinery's out of order," he said at last. "And one somehow does resent it. And then, I must say, if I had the toothache, I shouldn't want Mr. Meredith."
She gave a little nervous, unamused laugh.
"You know quite well what I mean, Major Tristram."
"Yes, I do. And I'm wondering if, after all, Meredith isn't the man you want. He and I both concentrate on humanity, but we do it from different points of view. ”

“ He discovered that the Duchess was well versed in war, that she had a stout heart and a generous instinct. She recalled to him Rosamunde whom he had left in Holy Guard, save that she was older by some fifteen years, and had more strength and sureness of courage.
All that day Tristan rode at her side, under the ken of her fearless eyes. She was not a woman a true man could dissemble with, for she possessed that strange charm that forbade reserve, that natural sincerity that commanded trust. Before many hours had passed Tristan’s tongue was running briskly as for some friend. ”