Part 4 (2/2)

”Yes,” said Rigden, ”I recognise him--now.”

There was a pause. Moya broke it softly, a suspicion of sympathy in her voice.

”I am afraid he must have some hold over you.”

”He has indeed,” said Rigden bitterly; and next moment his heart was leaping, as a flame leaps before the last.

She who loved him was back at his side, she who had flouted him was no more. Her hot hands held both of his. Her quick breath beat upon his face. It was now nearly dark in the verandah, but there was just light enough for him to see the tears s.h.i.+ning in her splendid eyes. Rigden was infinitely touched and troubled, but not by this alone. It was her voice that ran into his soul. She was imploring him to tell her all; there must be no secrets between them; let him but tell her the worst and she would stand by him, against all the world if need be, and no matter how bad the worst might be. She was no child. There was nothing he could not tell her, nothing she could not understand and forgive, except his silence. Silence and secrecy were the one unpardonable sin in her eyes.

She would even help him to conceal that dreadful man, no matter what the underlying reason might be, or how much she might disagree with it, if only the reason were explained to her once and for all.

It was the one thing that Rigden would not explain.

He entreated her to trust him. His voice broke and the words failed him.

But on the crucial point he was firm. And so was she.

”You said you were unreasonable and exacting,” he groaned. ”I didn't believe it. Now I see that it is true.”

”But this is neither one nor the other,” cried Moya. ”Goodness! If I were never to exact more than your confidence! It's my right. If you refuse----”

”I do refuse it, in this instance, Moya.”

”Then here's your ring!”

There was a wrench, a glitter, and something fell hot into his palm.

”I only hope you will think better of this,” he said.

”Never!”

”I own that in many ways I have been quite in the wrong----”

”In every way!”

”There you are unreasonable again. I can't help it. I am doing what I honestly believe----”

His voice died away, for a whip was cracking in the darkness, with the m.u.f.fled beat of unshod hoofs in the heavy sand. They sat together without a word, each waiting for the other to rise first; and thus Theodore found them, though Moya's dress was all he could descry at first.

”That you, Moya? Well, what price the bush? I've been shooting turkeys; they call it sport; but give me crows to-morrow! What, you there too, Rigden? Rum coincidence! Sorry I didn't see you sooner, old chap; but I'm not going to retract about the turkeys.”

He disappeared in the direction of the barracks, and Moya held out her hand.

”Lend me that ring,” she said. ”There's no reason why we should give ourselves away to-night.”

”I think the sooner the better,” said Rigden.

But he returned the ring.

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