Part 20 (1/2)

Then sitting down beside her he leant over sideways and picked her up bodily, clear from the ground into his arms; no mean feat with a toilet jug full of water, let alone with a hefty maiden weighted with grief.

He held her in that heavenly, comforting clasp known and practised by stout old nurses and some mothers, within which you feel that you can defy anything, even to the onslaughts of peevish Fortune.

His left arm was under and round her shoulders, his left hand gently pressed her head against his breast, his right arm was round her just above the knees, and he rocked her gently.

Oh! the heavenly, comforting bliss!

History was repeating itself, for Leonie, with great dry sobs shaking her from head to feet, was snuffling into Jan Cuxson's collar as she had snuffled into his father's years ago.

”Beloved!”

Sobs.

”Beloved! there is nothing to cry about--_nothing_! As I am holding you now, so shall I always hold you, and no harm can come to you from ocean, tempest or life. _Nothing_ can hurt you because I love you!”

Sobs.

”_Leonie_!”

She lay absolutely still, unconsciously counting the beats of his heart which was thudding heavily against her right shoulder, and waiting for the moment when she would find the strength at last to turn down her ”empty gla.s.s.”

”Leonie! you've got to listen to me now, and I am not going to ask you to decide because Fate has decided for you. And oh! beloved, beloved, thank heaven that there is still time, that you are still free, that heaven instead of h.e.l.l is waiting for you. Yes! dear heart. Fate has decided!”

He stroked her hair as he looked down into the little face crushed against his shoulder, and s.h.i.+fted her a wee bit that she might rest more comfortably. Leonie closed her eyes and trembled from head to foot as Fate pinched the decision between claw-like thumb and finger so that it was stillborn.

”Dear,” continued Jan Cuxson as he gently patted her shoulder with his left hand, ”dear, oh! my dear, just as I hold you now, so I shall always hold you. I am going to keep you, marry you, and take you right away to India next week; I'll telegraph that my things are not to be put on board to-morrow. You must have a nervous breakdown to-day, _you_ darling, just to think of _that_,” and his laugh rang out against the sullen stillness of the dawn, ”then we will slip away, and get married, and--oh! Leonie, I _love_ you.”

Leonie said no word, but from her head to her feet swept a thrill which the man felt from his feet to his head.

He laughed again, laughed as a G.o.d might laugh with the world in his hand, and crushed her fiercely to him.

”Beloved! I love you! love you! love you! And you? Tell me you love me! Why, you dare not look me in the face and say no! You love me, dear! You are part of me; you are bone of my bone, flesh of my fles.h.!.+

Sorrow shall not touch you when you are all mine, your joys shall be my joys! And--beloved, my children shall be your children!”

With a sudden movement Leonie wrenched herself from his arms and on to her feet, whilst a driving cloud surrounded them, and a growl of thunder came over from Lundy Island way.

”Love you!” cried the girl. ”Yes! I love you, if that is the right word to describe what it is I have in my heart for you. No! don't touch me! Listen, I would live for you, _die_ for you in love. Pain through you would be joy, joy through you would be heaven.”

She clasped her hands to her breast, then threw them out towards him, palm uppermost, in a wonderful gesture of pa.s.sionate surrender, but her face was terrible to see, with eyes like burned out fires, and great smears of blood across her mouth and cheek.

”All that I have for you and more--oh! much more--but--I--I cannot marry you!”

The gla.s.s went down with a little clatter upon the coldest of life's cold marble slabs as Jan Cuxson, grasping the girl's arms, pulled her roughly towards him.

That he had caught the arm right on the lacerated wound he had no idea as he stood looking down into the eyes which were on a level with the top b.u.t.ton, of his coat.

”Beloved! beloved! You are tired, distraught! You don't know what you are saying! You are to go straight home and sleep, for _hours_, then come out refreshed and gloriously happy to meet me where and when you like! And we will fix everything down to the very smallest detail, oh!

dear heart, think of it! and this day week we will sail for India!”