Part 22 (2/2)

”My G.o.d,” he said, ”what a nightmare it has been! And what a fool, I, to think anything could come between us. Has she not been utterly mine since that sacred night spent here? And I have left her to loneliness and grief?.... I will arise and go to my beloved. No past, no shame, no pride of mine, shall come between us any more.”

He raised himself on his elbow and looked over the edge. The moonlight shone on rippling water lapping the foot of the cliff. He could see his watch by its bright light. Midnight! He must wait until three, for the tide to go down. He leaned back again, his arms folded across his chest; but Myra was still safely within them.

Two minutes later, Jim Airth slept soundly.

The dawn awoke him. He scrambled down to the sh.o.r.e, and once again swam up the golden path toward the rising sun.

As he got back into his clothes, it seemed to him that every vestige of that black nightmare had been left behind in the gay tossing waters.

On his way to the railway station, he pa.s.sed a farm. The farmer's wife had been up since sunrise, churning. She gladly gave him a simple breakfast of home-made bread, with b.u.t.ter fresh from the churn.

He caught the six o'clock express for town; tubbed, shaved, and lunched, at his Club.

At a quarter to three he was just coming down the steps into Piccadilly, very consciously ”clothed and in his right mind,” debating which train he could take for Shenstone if--as in duty bound--he looked in at his publishers' first; when a telegraph boy dashed up the steps into the Club, and the next moment the hall-porter hastened after him with a telegram.

Jim Airth read it; took one look at his watch; then jumped headlong into a pa.s.sing taxicab.

”Charing Cross!” he shouted to the chauffeur. ”And a sovereign if you do it in five minutes.”

As the flag tinged down, and the taxi glided swiftly forward into the whirl of traffic, Jim Airth unfolded the telegram and read it again.

It had been handed in at Shenstone at 2.15.

Come to me at once.

Myra.

A shout of exultation arose within him.

CHAPTER XXI

MICHAEL VERITAS

On the morning of that day, while Jim Airth, braced with a new resolve and a fresh outlook on life, was speeding up from Cornwall, Lady Ingleby sat beneath the scarlet chestnuts, watching Ronald and Billy play tennis.

They had entered for a tournament, and discovered that they required constant practice such as, apparently, could only be obtained at Shenstone. In reality they came over so frequently in honest-hearted trouble and anxiety over their friend, of whose unexpected sorrow they chanced to be the sole confidants. Lady Ingleby refused herself to all other visitors. In the trying uncertainty of these few weeks while Jim Airth was still in England, she dreaded questions or comments. To Jane Dalmain she had written the whole truth. The Dalmains were at Worcester, attending a musical festival in that n.o.blest of English cathedrals; but they expected soon to return to Overdene, when Jane had promised to come to her.

Meanwhile Ronald and Billy turned up often, doing their valiant best to be cheerful; but Myra's fragile look, and large pathetic eyes, alarmed and horrified them. Obviously things had gone more hopelessly wrong than they had antic.i.p.ated. They had known at once that Airth would not marry Lady Ingleby; but it had never occurred to them that Lady Ingleby would still wish to marry Airth. Ronald stoutly denied that this was the case; but Billy affirmed it, though refusing to give reasons.

Ronald had never succeeded in extorting from Billy one word of what had taken place when he had told Lady Ingleby that Jim Airth was the man.

”If you wanted to know how she took it, you should have told her yourself,” said Billy. ”And it will be a saving of useless trouble, Ron, if you never ask me again.”

Thus the days went by; and, though she always seemed gently pleased to see them both, no possible opening had been given to Ronald for a.s.suming the role of manly comforter.

”I shall give it up,” said Ronnie at last, in bitterness of spirit; ”I tell you, I shall give it up; and marry the d.u.c.h.ess!”

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