Part 26 (1/2)
”Quick, Thelma!” and his warm breath touched her cheek. ”My darling! my love! if you are not angry,--kiss me! I shall understand.”
She hesitated. To Philip that instant of hesitation seemed a cycle of slow revolving years. Timidly she lifted her head. She was very pale, and her breath came and went quickly. He gazed at her in speechless suspense,--and saw as in a vision the pure radiance of her face and star-like eyes s.h.i.+ning more and more closely upon him. Then came a touch,--soft and sweet as a roseleaf pressed against his lips,--and for one mad moment he remembered nothing,--he was caught up like Homer's Paris in a cloud of gold, and knew not which was earth or heaven.
”You love me, Thelma?” he murmured in a sort of wondering rapture. ”I cannot believe it, sweet! Tell me--you love me?”
She looked up. A new, unspeakable glory flushed her face, and her eyes glowed with the mute eloquence of awakening pa.s.sion.
”Love you?” she said in a voice so low and sweet that it might have been the whisper of a pa.s.sing fairy. ”Ah, yes! more than my life!”
CHAPTER XIV.
”Sweet hands, sweet hair, sweet cheeks, sweet eyes, sweet mouth; Each singly wooed and won!”
DANTE ROSETTI.
”Hallo, ho!” shouted Guldmar vociferously, peering back into the shadows of the cavern from whence the figures of his daughter and Errington were seen presently emerging. ”Why, what kept you so long, my lad? We thought you were close behind us. Where's your torch?”
”It went out,” replied Philip promptly, as he a.s.sisted Thelma with grave and ceremonious politeness to cross over some rough stones at the entrance, ”and we had some trouble to find our way.”
”Ye might hae called to us i' the way o' friends.h.i.+p,” observed Macfarlane somewhat suspiciously, ”and we wad hae lighted ye through.”
”Oh, it was no matter!” said Thelma, with a charming smile. ”Sir Philip seemed well to know the way, and it was not so very dark!”
Lorimer glanced at her and read plainly all that was written in her happy face. His heart sank a little; but, noticing that the old _bonde_ was studying his daughter with a slight air of vexation and surprise, he loyally determined to divert the general attention from her bright blushes and too brilliantly sparkling eyes.
”Well! . . . here you both are, at any rate,” he said lightly, ”and I should strongly advise that we attempt no more exploration of the island of Soroe to-day. Look at the sky; and just now there was a clap of thunder.”
”Thunder?” exclaimed Errington. ”I never heard it!”
”I dare say not!” said Lorimer, with a quiet smile. ”Still _we_ heard it pretty distinctly, and I think we'd better make for the yacht.”
”All right!” and Sir Philip sprang gaily into the long-boat to arrange the cus.h.i.+ons in the stern for Thelma. Never had he looked handsomer or more high-spirited, and his elation was noticed by all his companions.
”Something joyous has happened to our Phil-eep,” said Duprez in a half-whisper. ”He is in the air!”
”And something in the ither way has happened vera suddenly to Mr.
Guldmar,” returned Macfarlane. ”Th' auld man is in the dumps.”
The _bonde's_ face in truth looked sad and somewhat stern. He scarcely spoke at all as he took his place in the boat beside his daughter,--once he raised her little hand, looked at it, and kissed it fondly.
They were all soon on their way back to the _Eulalie_ over a sea that had grown rough and white-crested during their visit to the stalact.i.te cave. Clouds had gathered thickly over the sky, and though a few shafts of sunlight still forced a pa.s.sage through them, the threatening darkness spread with steady persistency, especially to the northern side of the horizon, where Storm hovered in the shape of a black wing edged with coppery crimson. As they reached the yacht a silver glare of lightning sprang forth from beneath this sable pinion, and a few large drops of rain began to fall. Errington hurried Thelma on deck and down into the saloon. His friends, with Guldmar, followed,--and the vessel was soon plunging through waves of no small height on her way back to the Altenfjord. A loud peal of thunder like a salvo of artillery accompanied their departure from Soroe, and Thelma s.h.i.+vered a little as she heard it.
”You are nervous, Mademoiselle Guldmar?” asked Duprez, noticing her tremor.
”Oh no,” she answered brightly. ”Nervous? That is to be afraid,--I am not afraid of a storm, but I do not like it. It is a cruel, fierce thing; and I should have wished to-day to be all suns.h.i.+ne--all gladness!” She paused, and her eyes grew soft and humid.
”Then you have been happy to-day?” said Lorimer in a low and very gentle voice.
She smiled up at him from the depths of the velvet lounge in which Errington had placed her.