Part 64 (1/2)

There was not a rickshaw to be seen; they were all waiting for revellers outside the Town Hall. Fatigue was beginning to tell on Carson: he rapped out a bad and bitter word.

”Cheer up!” said Portal blithely. ”You'll soon be dead!”

It was a well-worn expression, and Carson was accustomed to it, but upon this occasion it jarred. Something in Portal's voice was jarring, too.

Now that Carson came to remark it, for the first time that evening there was something wrong with Portal's appearance as well as his voice.

Instead of being in evening-dress, he had on a brown tweed morning-suit, in which, to judge by its appearance, he might have been knocking about the veldt for several weeks. On the other hand, his face was as bloodless and sallow as if he had been shut in a cellar for a month, and his eyes were sunk deep in his head. Withal, he was cheerful, full of suppressed excitement--almost it might be said that he was gay. After many years in Africa, Carson was accustomed to all kinds of moods and tenses in his friends; also, being an intimate of Portal's, he was aware that the latter possessed a troublesome liver. But somehow, none of these things could quite account for the extraordinary aspect and manner of Portal to-night. Under the powerful rays of a street light which fizzled and hummed close by, Carson observed him intently.

”What's the matter with you, Bill? You look queer. Anything wrong? ...

besides Cap.r.o.n, I mean...?”

The other responded with apparent composure.

”No, nothing. I'm only glad to see you, Carson, that's all. I'd no idea you were back from the Rand. I had arranged to go up there after you, but----”

”When? What for?” asked Carson in surprise. He was unable to make head or tail of Portal's speech.

”Oh, nothing; just wanted to see you. You're a fascinating chap.”

Carson gazed at him.

One of Portal's hands spasmodically gripped and ungripped the verandah rail. With the other he appeared to be holding something stiff in the right pocket of his coat. He continued to talk in parables.

”I went as far as Maritzburg, but I came back to-night to put my affairs into shape and write a few letters--then those fellows came in and asked me to take charge of Cap.r.o.n ... I left him asleep, I thought ... I was writing a letter to--well, never mind who to--when I heard a row ...

and there was Cap.r.o.n ... _he'd got ahead of me_.”

”But, good Lord! what do you mean?” Carson burst out. ”What's wrong with you? Have your finances gone smash?” he brought an iron hand down on the restless one gripping the verandah railing. The stiff article in Portal's pocket twitched. Carson's career had been adventurous and dangerous, but he had never been nearer death than at that moment.

Entirely unconscious of the fact, he went on speaking.

”If you've had a smash-up, Bill, everything I've got is at your disposal.... I've just made a good turn-over in the market.... I thought I should need it, for ... but _my_ castle is in ruins.... You can have it if it's any good to you.”

”Thanks, Carson--my finances are all right.”

”Then what in thunder's the matter with you?--haven't you got the only good woman in this filthy country I'd like to know! I could swear to _two_ until to-night. _Now_, if it were not for your wife, I should say they were all rotten to the core ... false as--Oh, well, what's the use?” he turned wearily away.

”Have you spoken to my wife since you got back?” asked Portal. He had come closer and was staring intently into Carson's odd eyes as if searching for something there. His gay air was gone; he breathed heavily.

”I haven't spoken to any woman--except a devil in the train to-day--for nearly three weeks. And after to-night I think I'll be able to exist without 'em forever. But I saw Mrs. Portal from the door of the Town Hall; and she looked to me remarkably ill. Is _that_ your trouble?”

Portal did not answer at once, and Carson turned on him austerely and keenly. ”If it's any other woman, don't expect _me_ to sympathise with you--I could forgive any man that but you--bah! but it couldn't be ...

impossible!... Look here, Bill, I may as well tell you something now ...

you can take it how you like ... I'm not ashamed of it ... I was in love with your wife for years ... she has never known it for one moment ...

but I loved her crazily--everything and everyone else went by the board ... until I met her I was--well, I needn't tell _you_ what I was--no follower of Plato, anyway--and you can take this how you please, too--I am not going to pretend that there was anything platonic about my feeling for her ... there was _not_.... But, because she never turned her eyes my way ... or stepped down once in all the years I've known her and you from her shrine ... it got finer and finer until it got to be the highest, finest thing in my life, and anything decent that I've ever done was because of it.”

Portal had turned his head away before Carson had finished and appeared to be looking at something down the street. The thought came to Carson that he was either indifferent or not listening.

”Ah, well!” said he, angry to have wasted his confidence and yet too weary to be angry long. ”I daresay this doesn't interest you much ...

you know, of course, that dozens of men have been in love with your wife ... she's one of the women men can't help loving with all that's decent in them--any more than one can help loving one's mother. A love like that is like a star in the sky of a man's life ... a star that shows the way to the east.... And if _you_ are one of those fellows that don't know when a star has come down to you, why----”