Part 42 (1/2)

Brooke was silent for a time. He made a movement, then checked himself, and then said,

”Are you? Odd, too, isn't it?”

”I am miserable,” said Talbot again; ”and it is strange, for your life has been saved, and we are out of immediate danger. Yet I am now more miserable than I was last night when your life was in danger.

Can you tell me why it is so, Brooke?”

Again Brooke made a movement, which he checked, as before, by a strong impulse.

”Give it up,” said he, shortly.

”I know,” said Talbot. ”I'll tell you. It was this,” and her voice dropped as she spoke to a lower tone. ”Last night I had made up my mind to die for you, Brooke.”

Brooke drew a long breath. For an instant his eyes lowered. They caught the gaze which Talbot had fixed on him--deep, intense, unfathomable. It was but for a moment, and then it was as though he made a violent effort, and tore them away.

One of his hands caught at the other, and held it in a tight grip.

”Too much Talbot in that,” he said at length, in a harsh voice. ”If you go on dying for people, what'll become of you?”

”And now,” continued Talbot, in a dreamy way--”now, when suspense and danger seem over, I am miserable--simply miserable, Brooke. Why should my mind have such strange alternations, feelings so contradictory, so unreasonable? I ought to be happy--why am I not?”

”Now,” said Brooke, in the same harsh tone as before, ”you're beginning to talk metaphysics, and I'm all at sea there.”

Talbot was silent.

Brooke began to sing:

”How doth the little busy bee Improve the s.h.i.+ning hour.

But I prefer The caterpil-ler That feeds on the self-same flower.

The bee he slaves for all his life;-- Not so the other one; For he soars to the sky, A b.u.t.terfly, Ere half his days are done.”

Silence now followed for a very long time. It was at length broken by Brooke.

”Talbot,” said he, in a soft, low voice.

”Well, Brooke,” said Talbot.

”Will you be silent if I say something?”

”Yes, Brooke.”

”Not speak a word?”

”No, Brooke.”