Part 46 (2/2)

”d.a.m.n you!” said Sir Eustace.

With the words he s.h.i.+fted his grasp, took Scott by the collar, and swung him round.

”Then you may also tell her,” he said, his voice low and furious, ”that you have had the kicking that a little yapping cur like you deserves.”

He kicked him with the words, kicked him thrice, and flung him brutally aside.

Scott went down, grabbing vainly at the bed to save himself. His face was deathly as he turned it, but he said nothing. He had said his say.

Sir Eustace was white also, white and terrible, with eyes of flame. He stood a moment, glaring down at him. Then, as though he could not trust himself, wheeled and strode to the door.

”And when you've done,” he said, ”you can come to me for another, you beastly little cad!”

He went, leaving the door wide behind him. His feet resounded along the pa.s.sage and died away. The distant waltz-music came softly in. And Scott pulled himself painfully up and sat on the end of the bed, panting heavily.

Minutes pa.s.sed ere he moved. Then at last very slowly he got up. He had recovered his breath. His mouth was firm, his eyes resolute and indomitable, his whole bearing composed, as with that dignity that Dinah had so often remarked in him he limped to the door and pa.s.sed out, closing it quietly behind him.

The dance-music was still floating through the pa.s.sages with a mocking allurement. The tramp of feet and laughter of many voices rose with it. A flicker of irony pa.s.sed over his drawn face. He straightened his collar with absolute steadiness, and moved away in the direction of his own room.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE CAPTIVE

Isabel uttered no reproaches to her charge as, quivering with shame, she returned from her escapade. She exchanged no more than a low ”Good night!” with Scott, and then turned back into the room with Dinah. But as the latter stood before her, crest-fallen and humiliated, expecting a reprimand, she only laid very gentle hands upon her and began to unfasten her dress.

”I wasn't spying upon you, dear child,” she said. ”I only looked in to see if you would care for a cup of milk last thing.”

That broke Dinah utterly and overwhelmingly. In her contrition, she cast herself literally at Isabel's feet. ”Oh, what a beast I am! What a beast!” she sobbed. ”Will you ever forgive me? I shall never forgive myself!”

Isabel was very tender with her, checking her wild outburst with loving words. She asked no question as to what had been happening, for which forbearance Dinah's grat.i.tude was great even though it served to intensify her remorse. With all a mother's loving care she soothed her, a.s.suring her of complete forgiveness and understanding.

”I did wild things in my own girlhood,” she said. ”I know what it means, dear, when temptation comes.”

And so at last she calmed her agitation, and helped her to bed, waiting upon her with the utmost gentleness, saying no word of blame or even of admonition.

Not till she had gone, did it dawn upon Dinah that this task had probably been left to Scott, and with the thought a great dread of the morrow came upon her. Though he had betrayed no hint of displeasure, she felt convinced that she had incurred it; and all her new-born shyness in his presence, returned upon her a thousandfold. She did not know how she would face him when the morning came.

He would not be angry she knew. He would not scold her like Colonel de Vigne. But yet she shrank from the thought of his disappointment in her as she had never before shrunk from the Colonel's rebuke. She was sure that she had forfeited his good opinion for ever, and many and bitter were the tears that she shed over her loss.

Her thoughts of Eustace were of too confused a nature to be put into coherent form. The moment they turned in his direction her brain became a flas.h.i.+ng whirl in which doubts, fears, and terrible ectasies ran wild riot. She lay and trembled at the memory of his strength, exulting almost in the same moment that he had stooped with such mastery to possess her.

His magnificence dazzled her, deprived her of all powers of rational judgment. She only realized that she--and she alone--had been singled out of the crowd for that fiery wors.h.i.+p; and it seemed to her that she had been created for that one splendid purpose.

But always the memory of Scott shot her triumph through with a regret so poignant as to deprive it of all lasting rapture. She had hurt him, she had disappointed him; she did not know how she would ever look him in the eyes again.

Her sleep throughout that last night was broken and unrefres.h.i.+ng, and ever the haunting strains of _Simple Aveu_ pulsed through her brain like a low voice calling her perpetually, refusing to be stilled. Only one night more and she would be back in her home; this glittering, Alpine dream would be over, never to return. And again she turned on her pillow and wept. It was so hard, so hard, to go back.

<script>