Part 7 (2/2)

_Voyage of the Tobias_.

Ruys's repentant fit soon began to pa.s.s away, and there seemed every prospect of an aftermath of backsliding. She had honestly and soulfully tried to mend, and for a few weeks everything went smoothly--at least outwardly--for there was a hard struggle going on within. Then she began to think the air was getting too pure for her to live in, and then in her desperation she again opened up the subject of the removal to Dagon, and to her surprise and joy found her husband met her more than halfway in this. She had no very definite object in urging the move beyond that it would enable her to flee an ever-present temptation. It would have been well for Smalley if he had seen what was going on, but Habakkuk had never gauged that wayward heart. With all his love for her, he had never been able to understand his wife. It was a mystery to him how she had ever come to marry him, how he had ever come to ask her to share his lot. She had accepted the offer in one of those capricious moods in which women of her nature do absolutely anything, and she was, in fact, nothing more or less than a refined and educated Ma Mie, without, perhaps, the rugged n.o.bleness of the Burman woman. When she first knew Habakkuk he had just thrown aside a lucrative practice as a physician to enter the ministry with a view to going on the Eastern mission. This in itself was sufficient to attract an emotional woman, and there was something also in the innate n.o.bleness of soul within his ungainly frame that drew her toward him.

She had one of her ”good” fits on. Here was something so very different from the smart young men of her set who wors.h.i.+pped the almighty dollar, and dreamed of the almighty dollar, whose one idea was to ama.s.s a fortune, and to whom a business operation which successfully brought a friend perhaps to ruin was a creditable thing.

She felt that marriage with such an one was a moral abas.e.m.e.nt, and so she signalled, in that silent way that women know, to the strong and loving nature that was hovering near her, and he came at her call.

Something within him, he knew not what, prompted him to speak, and he simply told her of his love, and turned to go. It never for one moment crossed him that he would meet anything but a refusal, and when she softly called him back and put her hand in his, he was unable at first to realize that his apparently absurd ambition had been crowned with success. They were married, and almost immediately left for the East, and almost as immediately Ruys began to repent of the step she had taken and wished herself back again. Those smart young men who wors.h.i.+pped the almighty dollar--after all, they were not so bad. She began to contrast them with her husband, and then she began to be miserable. Habakkuk saw this much, that she was miserable, and put it down to seasickness. By the time he reached Burma he reflected that his wife had about fifty different characters, and could slip on one as easily as she slipped on a dress. He was a sensible man and resigned himself to his fate, and then she trampled upon him because he yielded, and he bore it all with a silent misery eating at his heart. Then after a time his love seemed to sleep into a kind of intimate friends.h.i.+p; but Ruys saw this, and would fan it all up again, and, as soon as she succeeded, relapse into an icy dullness that made life almost unendurable. It was their last evening at Pazobin; the parsonage had been practically dismantled of its ornaments, and Ruys, with a straw hat in her hand, stood in what was once her very pretty drawing-room. Habakkuk stepped in with his slouching gait.

”I wish,” said she, ”you wouldn't stoop so. Why don't you hold yourself up? There!” and she straightened him; ”if you always carry yourself like that it would be so different.”

”I'll try,” said Habakkuk. ”I must enroll myself as chaplain to the Pazobin Volunteers. There are six men in the regiment, but I'll get drilled. Will that suit?”

She was in a gay mood, and laughed blithely. ”Yes, it will do very well, and I shall have to work some colours and give it to the gallant regiment. But you are not to go with them when they go fighting dacoits,” and she came close up to him. Habakkuk for once plucked up courage, and, putting his arm round his wife's waist, kissed her, and to his surprise the caress was returned. He could hardly believe it, but she disengaged herself from his arm and said, ”I want you to go down to the boats and see that everything is ready, like a dear; then you can come back for me, and take me on board.”

Habakkuk felt that he could have gone to the end of the world. He was off in a moment, and went away holding himself very erect.

His wife looked after him with a strange smile on her face. ”I have got him away for a good hour, at any rate,” she said to herself, and stepping out into the garden walked slowly down to the ruined temple, and when she reached there she looked around as if expecting some one.

”I wonder if he will come?” she said, and almost as the words escaped her Peregrine walked quickly across the side and came straight up to her. ”I only got your note this minute, Mrs. Smalley,” he said; ”of course I was coming to see you off. It will be a great disappointment to Phipson. There was news which took him out this afternoon. Our friends the dacoits are to the fore again.”

”I thought you would come this way,” she said, ”and walked up here to meet you. Dr. Smalley will be back soon; he has gone down to the boats to see after things.”

”I wish I could have persuaded you not to go,” said Peregrine. ”You don't know what a loss you will be to us.” The young man had won a great victory as he thought. Within the last few weeks Ruys's own attempts at escape had helped him. He had seen the struggle, and as he now stood over her his eyes were fearless with the strong light of power and resolve. Her knight--he had sworn to be her knight, and was wearing her token next to his heart. His hand should be the last to drag her down, and therefore his voice was kind and courteous, but nothing more, as he expressed his civil regrets at her departure.

With Ruys it was different. She had taken a hasty resolve to have one more interview with Jackson, and then to say good-bye forever. She had determined to meet him here and ask him never to see her again, and now that the opportunity which she herself had foolishly made had come she was unable to speak, and her lips whitened as she stood still before him; and then he saw that she was crying, and took her gently by the hand.

”Mrs. Smalley--Ruys,” he said, ”be brave. See, you are my sister; I will look to you for help and counsel, and will be as a brother to you. Be brave.”

And even as she spoke the floodgates were opened, and all the pa.s.sionate woman spoke: ”I love you! I love you! How can I be your sister? Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?” And she burst into hysterical sobs, and the next moment was in Peregrine's arms, with her soft cheek resting against his shoulder and her heart to his.

For one wild moment Peregrine forgot all. ”My queen! my queen!” he said, and kissed her unresisting lips and held her to him.

He put her from him, and as she stood with downcast eyes and trembling limbs before him, he spoke: ”Good-bye; it must be good-bye forever now.”

She made no answer, but looked after his retreating figure with sad, dreamy eyes, and then with a white face and aching heart turned and walked backward to the house.

”_My G.o.d, thou hast forsaken me!_” Never did cry more bitter come from the soul of the prophet than came from the heart of Habakkuk Smalley from the spot where he had watched the whole meeting and seen the parting of the two. He had been a witness to it all from start to finish, and only perhaps a priest could have restrained himself as well as he had done up to now. It seemed as if his life had crumbled away. He now knew what he had never expected, and like an inspiration the motives of his wife in forcing him to leave the place flashed upon him. After all, the temptation had been resisted, and who was he to judge. He thought of the lesson his Master had taught in a case of terrible reality, and was he, a priest of the Gospel, to stop at less than this? He kneeled down on the turf, and, holding up his arms to heaven, prayed. ”G.o.d,” he cried, ”thou hast hunted me like a deer on the mountain side, and I am sorely wounded----” He could say no more, but gasped out ”Strength! strength!” and then after a while a peace came upon him and he arose and followed the footsteps of his wife. He found her sitting in their now cheerless room, and her features seemed pinched and drawn. Never a word did Habakkuk speak of what he knew, but his voice was as kind and gentle as ever. ”Everything is ready,”

he said; ”shall we go?”

Now Ruys made no answer, but simply rose, and they went forth together.

CHAPTER XII.

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