Then we had dinner; a delightful, cosy meal. The fire leaped wheneverthe wind roared; and as the darkness of the storm made a sort ofpremature nightfall, it gave a pleasant, homely look to everything.After dinner we sat round the fire, and I think for a time we wereall content. To me it was so like a dream. To sit there close to thebeautiful stranger, and to think of the romantic beginning of ouracquaintance, was enjoyment beyond words. As yet I did not dare tocast a glance forwards; but I was content to wait for that. I had aconviction that my own mind was made up.
After a little while we all became silent. Mrs. Jack was beginning todoze in her chair, and we two young folk
instinctively banded ourselvestogether with our youthful superiority over sleep and fatigue. Isat quite still; there was something so sweet in this organisedcompanionship of silence that it enraptured me. I did not need MissAnita's look of caution to remain quiet; there was something in herface, some power or quality which was as eloquent as speech. I began tothink of it; and the habit of introspection, which had now become a partof my nature, asserted itself. How much of this quality I thought, wasin her face, how much in my own eyes and the brain that lay behind them.I was recalled to myself by a whisper:
"I thought for a moment you were going to sleep too. Hsh!" she placed afinger on her lip a moment and then tiptoed over to the sofa; taking asoft cushion she placed it under Mrs. Jack's head, which had now fallenover sideways upon the arm of the chair. Then she sat beside me again,and bending over said softly:
"While she is asleep would you mind walking down to the beach, I want tosee the waves. They must be big by now; I can hear their roaring fromhere."
"I will go with delight;" I said "but you must wrap up properly. It willnot do to run any chance of a chill."
"All right, oh wise man! I obey, King Solomon! I shall wait to put on myown clothes till I get back; and you can lend me a mackie-coat if youwill." I got one of mine for her, the newest; and we walked over thesandhills to the beach.
The wind was blowing furiously. It never left off for a moment; butoccasionally there were bursts of such added violence that we found itdifficult to keep our feet. We clung to each other at such moments, andthe very sense of the strength which enabled me to shield her somewhatfrom the violence of the storm, made a new feeling of love--I could notnow disguise it from myself. Something went out from me to her; somesubtle feeling which must, I suppose, have manifested itself in someway, how I know not, for I kept guard upon myself. For one blissfulmoment, possibly of forgetfulness, she clung to me as the weak cling tothe strong, the clinging of self-surrender which is equally dear to theweak and the strong, to the woman and the man. And then she drew herselfsharply away from me.
There was no misunderstanding the movement; it was an intentional andconscious one, and the motive which lay behind both was her woman'smystery. I did not know much about women, but I could make no mistakeas to this. Inasmuch as Providence has thought fit in its wisdom tomake men and women different, it is just as well that each sex shouldat critical times use its own potentialities for its protection andadvancement. Herein comes, in the midst of an unnatural civilisation,the true utility of instinct. Since we have lost the need of earlyinformation of the presence of game or of predatory animals or hostilemen, even our instincts adapt themselves to our surroundings. Manyan act which may afterwards seem the result of long and carefulpremeditation is, on reflection, found to be simply the result of thatform of momentary impulse which is in reality a blind obedience tosome knowledge of our ancestors gained through painful experience.Some protective or militant instinct whose present exercise is but avariant of its primal use. For an instant the man and the woman wereantagonistic. The woman shrank, therefore it was the man's interest toadvance; all at once the man in me spoke through the bashfulness andreticence of years:
"Why do you shrink from me? Have I done anything?"
"Oh no!"
"Then why?" A hot blush mantled her face and neck. Had she been anEnglish girl I should not probably have had a direct answer; she wouldhave switched conversation on some safer track, or have, after someskirmishing, forbidden the topic altogether. This girl's training,however, had been different. Her equal companionship in study with boysin school and college had taught her the futility of trying to burke aquestion when her antagonist was masculine; and the natural pluck anddominance--the assertion of individuality which is a part of an Americanwoman's birthright--brought up her pride. Still blushing, but bearingherself with additional dignity, she spoke. Had she been moreself-conscious, and could she have seen herself at the moment, she wouldhave recognised to the full that with so much pride and so much dignityshe could well afford to discuss any topic that she chose.
"The fault is not yours. It is, or it was, my own."
"You mean when I gave you back your brooch?" The blood deepened anddeepened to a painful intensity. In a low voice, in the tone of speech,but with only the power of a whisper she answered me:
"Yes!" This was my chance and I said with all the earnestness I had, andwhich I felt to the full:
"Let me say something. I shall not ever allude to it again unless youwish. I took that sweet acknowledgment of your gratitude exactly as itwas meant. Do believe that I am a gentleman. I have not got a sister, Iam sorry to say, but if I had, I should not mind her giving a kiss to astranger under such circumstances. It was a sweet and womanly act and Irespect--and--like you more for it. I wouldn't, of course, for all theworld you hadn't done it; and I shall never forget it. But believe meI shall never forget myself on account of it. If I did I should be ahowling cad;--and--that's all."
As I spoke her face brightened and she sighed with an expression ofrelief. The blush almost faded away, and a bright smile broke over herface. With a serious deep look in the eyes which glistened through hersmile she held out her hand and said:
"You are a good fellow, and I thank you with all my heart."
I felt as if I walked on air as we forced our way through the stormwhich roared around us, over the sandhills towards the sea. It was withan exultation that made my head swim that I noticed that she kept stepwith me.
CHAPTER IX
CONFIDENCES AND SECRET WRITING
The shore was a miracle of wild water and white foam. When the windblows into Cruden Bay there is no end or limit to the violence of waves,which seem to gather strength as they rush over the flat expanse ofshore. The tide was now only half in, and ordinarily there would havebeen a great stretch of bare sand between the dunes and the sea.To-night, however, the piling up of the waters sent in an unnatural tidewhich swept across the flat shore with exceeding violence. The roaringwas interminable, and as we stood down on the beach we were envelopedin sheets of flying foam. The fierce blasts came at moments with suchstrength that it was physically impossible for us to face them. After alittle we took shelter behind one of the wooden bathing-boxes fasteneddown under the sandhills. Here, protected from the direct violenceof the storm, the shelter seemed like a calm from which we heard theroaring of wind and wave as from far off. There was a sense of cosinessin the shelter which made us instinctively draw close together. I couldhave remained happy in such proximity forever, but I feared that itwould end at any moment. It was therefore, with delight that I heard thevoice of Miss Anita, raised to suit the requirements of the occasion:
"Now that we are alone, won't you tell me about Gormala and the strangeoccurrences?" I tried to speak, but the storm was too great for thepurposes of narrative. So I suggested that we should come behind thesandhill. We went accordingly, and made a nest in a deep hollow behindthe outer range of hillocks. Here crouched among the tall bent, whichflew like whip lashes when the wilder bursts of the storm came, and amida never-ending scourge of fine sand swept from the top of the sandhills,I told her of all my experiences of Gormala and Second Sight.
She listened with a rapt attention. At times I could not see her face,for the evening was closing in and the driving clouds overhead, whichkept piling up in great masses along the western horizon, shut out theremnants of the day. When, however, in the pauses of drifting sand andflying foam I could see her properly, I found her face positively alightwith eager intelligence. Throughout, she was moved at times, and now andagain crept a little closer to me; as for instance when I told her ofthe dead child and of Lauchlane Macleod's terrible struggle for lifein the race of the tide amongst the Skares. Her questions were quiteilluminating to me at moments, for her quick woman's intuition graspedpossibilities at which my mere logical faculties had shied. Beyond allelse, she was interested in the procession of ghosts on Lammas Eve. Onlyonce during my narrative of this episode she interrupted me; not anintentional interruption but a passing comment of her own, candidlyexpressed. This was where the body of armed men came along; at which shesaid with a deep hissing intake of her breath through her teeth:
"Spaniards! I knew it! They were from some lost ship of the Armada!"When I spoke of the one who turned and looked at me with eyes thatseemed of the quick, she straightened her back and squared hershoulders, and looking all round her alertly as though for some hiddenenemy, clenched her hands and shut her lips tightly. Her great dark eyesseemed to blaze; then she grew calm again in a moment.
When I had finished she sat silent for a while, her eyes fixed in frontof her as with one whose mind is occupied with introspection. Suddenlyshe said:
"That man had some secret, and he feared you would discover it. I cansee it all! He, coming from his grave, could see with his dead eyes whatyou could see with your living ones. Nay, more; he could, perhaps, seenot only that you saw, and what you saw, but where the knowledge wouldlead you. That certainly is a grand idea of Gormala's, that of winningthe Secret of the Sea!" After a pause of a few moments she went on,standing up as she did so and walking restlessly to and fro withclenched hands and flashing eyes:
"And if there be any Secrets of the Sea why not win them? If they be ofSpain and the Spaniard, why not, a thousand times more, win them. If theSpaniard had a secret, be sure it was of no good to our Race. Why--" shemoved excitedly as she went on: "Why this is growing interesting beyondbelief. If his dead eyes could for an instant become quick, why shouldnot the change last longer? He might materialise altogether." Shestopped suddenly and said: "There! I am getting flighty as usual. Imust think it all over. It is all too wonderful and too exciting foranything. You will let me ask you more about it, won't you, when we meetagain?"
When we meet again! Then we would meet again: The thought was a delightto me; and it was only after several rapturous seconds that I answeredher:
"I shall tell you all I know; everything. You will be able to help me indiscovering the Mystery; perhaps working together we can win the Secretof the Sea."