Part 33 (1/2)
”He was always fond of you. He'll be glad when he hears you're married and safe.”
”Yes, he'll be glad. Don't talk any more for a minute, dear, then just say _au revoir_ to me and go as quickly as you can. I want to be quiet. It's good to be loved. How gentle you are! Emile was always so rough when he touched me.”
Vardri hung over her, caressing her with infinite tenderness. Of all men in the world he was surely the happiest to have known this sweet and womanly Arith.e.l.li, the Arith.e.l.li that no one else had ever seen.
He kissed the heavy, closed lids and stroked back the hair from her forehead.
A faint intoxicating odour of jasmine hovered about her, for she was Eastern in her love of perfumes. The stifling, dirty hut became a Paradise while she lay thus in his arms.
Once again they kissed and clung together. Though Arith.e.l.li's lips burnt, they scorched with the fires of despair rather than with those of pa.s.sion.
In silence Vardri helped her to her feet, and they walked together to the door.
”You'll come to me to-morrow,” Arith.e.l.li said.
”To-morrow we shall be safe. We'll be out of this h.e.l.l altogether in another day or two, _a la bonne heure_! You're not afraid, Fatalite?”
”I shan't be--when the letters are safe. Take care of yourself, _mon ami, et a bientot_!”
”_Mon Dieu_! what pluck you have! How I love you for it! Go back and rest, dear, till those brutes come down. Give me your hand again, Fatalite, _bien aimee! gardez-vous, mais gardez-vous_!”
She answered him steadily. ”_a demain_. _Adieu, mon ami_. Ride as quickly as you can, but lead your horse for the first few minutes.”
CHAPTER XXIII
”Le jeu est fait, rien ne vas plus!”
He was gone, and Arith.e.l.li was back in the hut again, and now the worst of it all was still to come. If Vardri was to have a fair start she must wait out the hour alone, realising every moment of the time what awaited her at the end of it.
A mad impulse seized her to rush up the steps to the loft, interrupt the meeting, defy them all and boast how she had schemed her lover's escape, and laugh at them and their plots, goad them into shooting her at once and finis.h.i.+ng it all quickly. She felt that she could not endure any more suspense and strain. Anything would be better than this interminable, awful waiting in the semi-darkness and loneliness, with neither friend nor lover at hand, no single human to take her part or defend her. Emile had gone and now Vardri, and she must face everything alone. If she waited Vardri would have perhaps half an hour's grace and while they were dealing with her it would give him still another few minutes, and every minute counted.