"That would be too enchanting!" she said impulsively, and then stoppedsuddenly as if remembering herself. After a pause she said sedately:
"I'm afraid we must be going back now. We have a long way to drive; andit will be quite late enough anyhow."
As we moved off I asked her if I might not see her and Mrs. Jack safelyhome. I could get a horse at the hotel and drive with them. She laughedlightly as she answered:
"You are very kind indeed. But surely we shall not need any one! Iam a good driver; the horse is perfect and the lamps are bright. Youhaven't any 'hold-ups' here as we have Out West; and as I am not withinGormala's sphere of influence, I don't think there is anything todread!" Then after a pause she added:
"By the way have you ever seen Gormala since?" It was with a queerfeeling which I could not then analyse, but which I found afterwardscontained a certain proportion of exultation I answered:
"Oh yes! I saw her only two days ago--" Here I stopped for I was struckwith a new sense of the connection of things. Miss Anita saw the wonderin my face and drawing close to me said:
"Tell me all about it!" So I told her of the auction at Peterhead and ofthe chest and the papers with the mysterious marks, and of how I thoughtit might be some sort of account--"or," I added as a new idea struckme--"secret writing." When I had got thus far she said with decision:
"I am quite sure it is. You must try to find it out. Oh, you must, youmust!"
"I shall," said I, "if you desire it." She said nothing, but a blushspread over her face. Then she resumed her movement towards the hotel.
We walked in silence; or rather we ran and stumbled, for the fiercewind behind us drove us along. The ups and downs of the surface wereveiled with the mist of flying sand swept from amongst the bent-grasson the tops of the sandhills. I would have liked to help her, but ajudicious dread of seeming officious--and so losing a step in her goodgraces--held me back. I felt that I was paying a price of abstinence forthat kiss. As we went, the silence between us seemed to be ridiculous;so to get over it I said, after searching in my mind for a topic whichwould not close up her sympathies with me:
"You don't seem to like Spaniards?"
"No," she answered quickly, "I hate them! Nasty, cruel, treacherouswretches! Look at the way they are treating Cuba! Look at the _Maine_!"Then she added suddenly:
"But how on earth did you know I dislike them." I answered:
"Your voice told me when you spoke to yourself whilst I was telling youabout the ghosts and the man with the eyes."
"True," she said reflectively. "So I did. I must keep more guard onmyself and not let my feelings run away with me. I give myself away soawfully." I could have made a reply to this, but I was afraid. That kissseemed like an embodied spirit of warning, holding a sword over my headby a hair.
It was not long before I found the value of my silence. The lady'sconfidence in my discretion was restored, and she began, of her owninitiative, to talk. She spoke of the procession of ghosts; suddenlystopping, however, as if she had remembered something, she said to me:
"But why were you so anxious that Gormala should not have seen yousaving us from the rock?"
"Because," I answered, "I did not want her to have anything to do withthis."
"What do you mean by 'this'?" There was something in the tone of herquery which set me on guard. It was not sincere; it had not that naturalintonation, even, all through, which marks a
question put in simplefaith. Rather was it in the tone of one who asks, knowing well theanswer which will or may be given. As I have said, I did not know muchabout women, but the tone of coquetry, no matter how sweet, no matterhow ingenuous, no matter how lovable, cannot be mistaken by any man withred blood in his veins! Secretly I exulted, for I felt instinctivelythat there rested some advantage with me in the struggle of sex. Theknowledge gave me coolness, and brought my brain to the aid of my heart.Nothing would have delighted me more at the moment than to fling myself,actually as well as metaphorically, at the girl's feet. My mind was madeup to try to win her; my only thought now was the best means to thatend. I felt that I was a little sententious as I replied to herquestion:
"By 'this' I mean the whole episode of my meeting with you."
"And Mrs. Jack," she added, interrupting me.
"And Mrs. Jack, of course," I went on, feeling rejoiced that she hadgiven me an opportunity of saying something which I would not otherwisehave dared to say. "Or rather I should perhaps say, my meeting with Mrs.Jack and her friend. It was to me a most delightful thing to meet withMrs. Jack; and I can honestly say this day has been the happiest of mylife."
"Don't you think we had better be getting on? Mrs. Jack will be waitingfor us!" she said, but without any kind of reproach in her manner.
"All right," I answered, as I ran up a steep sandhill and held out myhand to help her. I did not let her hand go till we had run down theother side, and up and down another hillock and came out upon the flatwaste of sand which lay between us and the road, and over which a sortof ghostly cloud of sand drifted.
Before we left the sand, I said earnestly:
"Gormala's presence seems always to mean gloom and sorrow, weeping andmourning, fear and death. I would not have any of them come near you oryours. This is why I thanked God then, and thank Him now, that in ourmeeting Gormala had no part!"
She gave me her hand impulsively. As for an instant her soft palm layin my palm and her strong fingers clasped mine, I felt that there was abond between us which might some day enable me to shield her from harm.
When Mrs. Jack, and 'her friend', were leaving the hotel, I came tothe door to see them off. She said to me, in a low voice, as I badefarewell:
"We shall, I daresay, see you before long. I know that Mrs. Jack intendsto drive over here again. Thank you for all your kindness. Good night!"There was a shake of the reins, a clatter of feet on the hard road, asweeping round of the rays of light from the lamp as the cart swayed atthe start under the leap forward of the high-bred horse and swung up thesteep inland roadway. The last thing I saw was a dark, muffled figure,topped by a tam-o'-shanter cap, projected against the mist of movinglight from the lamp.