Part 39 (2/2)

We stood facing one another silently. The time had come for me to speak.

”Well,” said she, and her voice was very calm, ”what is it, Mr.

Buckler?”

All my fine arguments and protestations flew out of my head like birds startled from a nest. I forgot even the confession I had to make to her, and

”I love you!” I said humbly, looking down on the floor.

She gave me no answer. My heart fainted within me; I feared that it would stop. But in a little I dared to raise my eyes to her face. She stood in the pillar of moonlight, her eyes glistening, but with no expression on her face which could give me a clue to her thoughts, and she softly opened and shut her fan, which hung on a girdle about her waist.

”How I do love you!” I cried, and I made a step towards her. ”But you know that.”

She nodded her head.

”I took good care you should,” she said.

I did not stop to consider the strangeness of the speech. My desire construed it without seeking help from the dictionary of thought.

”Then you wished it,” I cried joyfully, and I threw myself down on my knee at her feet, and buried my face in my hands. ”Ilga! Ilga!”

She made no movement, but replied in a low voice:

”With all my heart I wished it. How else could I have brought you to the Tyrol?”

I felt the tears gathering into my eyes and my throat choking. I lifted my face to hers, and, taking courage from her words, clipped my arms about her waist.

She gave a little trembling cry, and plucked at my fingers. I but tightened my clasp.

”Ilga!” I murmured. 'Twas the only word which came to my lips, but it summed the whole world for me then--ay, and has done ever since.

”Ilga!”

Again she plucked at my fingers, and for all the calmness which she had shown, I could feel her hands burning through her gloves. Then a shadow darkened for an instant across the window, the moonlight faded, and her face was lost to me. 'Twas for no longer than an instant. I looked towards the window, but Ilga bent her head down between it and me.

”Tis only the branches swinging in the wind,” she said softly.

I rose to my feet and drew her towards me. She set her palms against my chest as if to repulse me, but she said no word, and I saw the necklace about her throat flas.h.i.+ng and sparkling with the heave of her bosom.

It seemed to me that a light step sounded without the pavilion, and I turned my head aside to listen.

”Tis only the leaves blowing along the terrace,” she whispered, and I looked again at her and drew her closer.

For a time she resisted; then I heard her sigh, and her hand stole across my shoulder. Her head drooped forward until her hair touched my lips. I could feel her heart beating on my breast. Gently I turned her face upwards, and then with a loud clap the shutters were flung to and the room was plunged in darkness.

Ilga started away from me, drawing a deep breath as for some release.

I groped my way to the window. The shutters opened outwards, and I pushed against them. They were held close and fast.

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