Part 85 (1/2)
”Dessay you're right, Master Leslie, but you may search me if you like.
I've got nothing to-night.”
”I'm not going to search you, old lady. I'll leave that to the revenue men. But what's the matter?”
”Matter, Master Leslie?”
”Yes; I heard you sobbing. Are you in trouble?”
”Of course I am, sir. Aren't I a lone widow?”
”So you have been these fifteen years.”
”Fourteen and three-quarters, sir.”
”Ah, well, I was near enough. But what is it, old lady? Want a little money?”
”No, no, no, Master Leslie, sir; and that's very kind of you, sir; and if I don't bring you up half-a-dozen of the finest mack'rel that come in these next days, my name aren't Perrow.”
”Thank you. There, I don't want to be inquisitive, but it seems strange for a woman like you to be crying away here on the cliff two miles from home on a dark night.”
”And it seems strange for a young gen'leman like you to be up here all alone and three miles from home. You was watching me, Master Leslie.”
”You'll take my word, Poll Perrow,” said Leslie quietly. ”I did not know you were here.”
”Yes, I'll believe you, Master Leslie, sir. But you was watching some one else?”
”No, I came for a walk, my good woman, that's all.”
”Then I won't stop you, sir. Good-night, sir.”
”Good-night,” said Leslie; and feeling more content, he took out his cigar-case, and after selecting one by feeling, he went back into the coastguards' station and struck a match.
He looked along the cliff-path as the match flashed, and caught sight faintly of the old woman.
”Watching me anyhow,” he said to himself, as he lit his cigar. ”Now what can that old girl be doing here? She's fifty-five if she's a day, but if she is not courting and had a quarrel with her youthful lover, I'm what that old lady says that Van Heldre is--a Dutchman.”
He turned back along the path feeling comparatively light-hearted and restful. The long, dark, weary walk to tire himself was forgotten, and he went slowly back along the coastguard path, turning a little from time to time to gaze over his left shoulder at the brilliant planet which rose higher and higher over the glistening sea.
”Hope!” he said half aloud. ”What a glorious word that is, and what a weary world this would be if there were none! Yes, I will hope.”
He walked slowly on, wondering whether Poll Perrow was watching and following him. Then he forgot all about her, for his thoughts were fixed upon the granite house across the estuary, and the sweet sad face of Louise half in shadow, half lit by the soft glow of the shaded lamp.
”Mr Vine will be back by now,” he said. ”I might call in and ask how Van Heldre is to-night. It would be sociable, and I should see her, and let my manner show my sorrow for having grieved her and given her pain; and, is it possible to let her see that I am full of patient, abiding hope, that some day she will speak differently to the way in which she spoke to-day? Yes, a woman would read all that, and I will be patient and guarded now.”
It was astonis.h.i.+ng how eager Duncan Leslie felt now to see what news George Vine, had brought from Van Heldre's; and with the beautiful absurdity of young men in his position, he never allowed himself to think that when he crossed the ferry he would be within a stone's throw of the merchant's house, and that all he need do was to knock and ask old Crampton or Mrs Van Heldre for the latest bulletin, which would be gladly given.
It was so much easier to go by the house, make for the path which led up the steep slope, and go right to the home on the shelf of the cliff, and ask there.
Meanwhile, Louise Vine had seated herself by the dining-room table with the light of the shaded lamp falling athwart her glossy hair, and half throwing up her sweet pale face, just as Leslie had pictured it far away upon the cliff. Now and then her needle glittered, but only at rare intervals, for she was deep in thought.