Part 16 (2/2)
”You must not go--you must not--for my sake,” she murmured.
The head drooped till the tumbled tresses met the caressing hand; one pale cheek was so close to his he had but to bend his head to touch it with his lips. His arm slipped round her, drawing her soft, yielding form yet closer to him, and over him there swept a wave of emotion which in another moment had carried him away upon its crest, away from duty, away from the prosaic material world, away from everything but the woman he held.
”You must not say that,” he said hoa.r.s.ely. ”You must not. You are the last who should try to turn me from my duty.”
”Oh, but I cannot--I cannot let you go--it may be to your death. Wait till day comes,” she answered. ”There are horses in the paddock. Patsy can fetch you one. If you go now you will only wander aimlessly in the dark while they may turn upon you, if they do not get farther and farther away. Stay till the dawn.”
”It will not be dawn for many hours.”
”Why, what time do you think it is? It is nearly four.”
Nearly four! Then he had slept right through the night so soundly that on waking he thought he had only dozed.
”You will not go? Tell me you will not go?” she whispered, and he felt her hands touch him lightly.
He drew back, fearful lest her fascination again overmastered him.
”Show me which way they went,” he said brusquely, as he walked to the steps leading down from the verandah.
As he reached them he turned. Mrs. Burke had drawn back into the shadow beyond the open window.
”Will you show me which way they went?” he repeated.
He saw her hide her face in her hands, and the sound of a choked sob came to him. In a moment he was at her side.
She shrank to the wall as he approached, raising her head and shaking back the loose locks which streamed across her face.
”Go!” she exclaimed. ”Go! Leave me! What am I that you should care? Only a poor, weak, sad, and lonely woman. Forget----”
”Do not say that,” he answered quickly, his voice vibrating with pa.s.sion. ”You--you do not know--I would give my life----”
”I will not give you cause to say I kept you from your duty, Mr.
Durham,” she went on. ”Forget my weakness. I promise you it shall never occur again.”
She slipped past him and stood for a moment at the window, just long enough to flash one look of resentment at him before she pa.s.sed into the room and extinguished the lamp.
CHAPTER VIII
THE NOTE THAT FAILED
When Durham, having walked in from Waroona Downs, arrived at the bank, he found the towns.h.i.+p in a state of excitement bordering on panic.
The noise of the firing during the night had brought everyone who was awake at the time rus.h.i.+ng to the scene. Men had mounted their horses and raced away in the direction the fugitives were supposed to have taken, returning hours afterwards with the information that no trace of them could be discovered, beyond the prints of their horses' hoofs, here and there, right up to the line of rocky rises which formed the commencement of the range.
Durham brushed aside the volley of questions directed at him as to how it came about that he had returned on foot. Pa.s.sing into the bank he asked Harding to come with him into the manager's office, and told Brennan to clear everyone else out of the building.
<script>