Part 17 (1/2)

'”The truth is simply this, Mitch.e.l.l,” continued the Doctor, quietly.

”We herewith give you up our Lady,--ours no longer; for she has just confessed, openly confessed, that she loves you.”

'Mitch.e.l.l started back. ”Loves me!”

'”Yes.”

'Black Andy felt the blade of his knife. ”He'll never have her alive,”

he muttered.

'”But,” said Mitch.e.l.l, bluntly confronting the Doctor, ”I don't want her.”

'”You don't want her?”

'”I don't love her.”

'”You don't love her?”

'”Not in the least,” he replied, growing angry, perhaps at himself.

”What is she to me? Nothing. A very good missionary, no doubt; but _I_ don't fancy woman-preachers. You may remember that _I_ never gave in to her influence; _I_ was never under her thumb. _I_ was the only man in Little Fis.h.i.+ng who cared nothing for her!”

'And that is the secret of _her_ liking,' murmured the Doctor. 'O woman!

woman! the same the world over!'

'In the mean time the crowd had stood stupefied.

'”He does not love her!” they said to each other; ”he does not want her!”

'Andy's black eyes gleamed with joy; he swung himself up on to the platform. Mitch.e.l.l stood there with face dark and disturbed, but he did not flinch. Whatever his faults, he was no hypocrite. 'I must leave this to-night,' he said to himself, and turned to go. But quick as a flash our Lady sprang from her knees and threw herself at his feet. 'You are going,' she cried. 'I heard what you said,--you do not love me! But take me with you! Let me be your servant--your slave--anything--anything, so that I am not parted from you, my lord and master, my only, only love!'

'She clasped his ankles with her thin, white hands, and laid her face on his dusty shoes.

'The whole audience stood dumb before this manifestation of a great love. Enraged, bitter, jealous as was each heart, there was not a man but would at that moment have sacrificed his own love that she might be blessed. Even Mitch.e.l.l, in one of those rare spirit-flashes when the soul is shown bare in the lightning, asked himself, 'Can I not love her?

But the soul answered, 'No.' He stooped, unclasped the clinging hands, and turned resolutely away.'

'”You are a fool,” said the Doctor. 'No other woman will ever love you as she does.'

'”I know it,” replied Mitch.e.l.l.

'He stepped down from the platform and crossed the church, the silent crowd making a way for him as he pa.s.sed along; he went out in the suns.h.i.+ne, through the village, down towards the beach,--they saw him no more.

'The Lady had fainted. The men bore her back to the lodge and tended her with gentle care one week,--two weeks,--three weeks. Then she died.

'They were all around her; she smiled upon them all, and called them all by name, bidding them farewell. 'Forgive me,' she whispered to the Doctor. The Nightingale sang a hymn, sang as he had never sung before.

Black Andy knelt at her feet. For some minutes she lay scarcely breathing; then suddenly she opened her fading eyes. 'Friends,' she murmured, 'I am well punished. I thought myself holy,--I held myself above my kind,--but G.o.d has shown me I am the weakest of them all.'

'The next moment she was gone.

'The men buried her with tender hands. Then in a kind of blind fury against Fate, they tore down her empty lodge and destroyed its every fragment; in their grim determination they even smoothed over the ground and planted shrubs and bushes, so that the very location might be lost.

But they did not stay to see the change. In a month the camp broke up of itself, the town was abandoned, and the island deserted for good and all; I doubt whether any of the men ever came back or even stopped when pa.s.sing by. Probably I am the only one. Thirty years ago,--thirty years ago!'

'That Mitch.e.l.l was a great fool,' I said, after a long pause. 'The Doctor was worth twenty of him; for that matter, so was Black Andy. I only hope the fellow was well punished for his stupidity.'