Part 48 (1/2)

”You must give me your hand again, Keith,” said she, in a low voice; and when he s.h.i.+fted the candle, and took her hand in his, he found that it was trembling somewhat.

”Will you go any farther?” said he.

”No.”

They stood and looked around. The darkness seemed without limits; the red light was insufficient to produce anything like an outline of this immense place, even in faint and wandering gleams.

”If anything were to move, Keith,” said she, ”I should die.”

”Oh, nonsense!” said he, in a cheerful way; but the hollow echoes of the cavern made his voice sound sepulchral. ”There is no beast at all in here, you may be sure. And I have often thought of the fright a wild-cat or a beaver may have got when he came in here in the night, and then discovered he had stumbled on a lot of sleeping men--”

”Of men!”

”They say this was a sanctuary of the Culdees; and I often wonder how the old chaps got their food. I am afraid they must have often fallen back on the young cormorants: that is what Major Stuart calls an expeditious way of dining--for you eat two courses, fish and meat, at the same time. And if you go further along, Gertrude, you will come to the great altar-stone they used.”

”I would rather not go,” said she. ”I--I do not like this place. I think we will go back now, Keith.”

As they cautiously made their way back to the glare of the entrance, she still held his hand tight; and she did not speak at all. Their footsteps echoed strangely in this hollow s.p.a.ce. And then the air grew suddenly warm; and there was a glow of daylight around; and although her eyes were rather bewildered, she breathed more freely, and there was an air of relief on her face.

”I think I will sit down for a moment, Keith,” said she; and then he noticed, with a sudden alarm, that her cheeks were rather pale.

”Are you ill?” said he, with a quick anxiety in his eyes ”Were you frightened?”

”Oh, no!” said she, with a forced cheerfulness, and she sat down for a moment on one of the smooth boulders. ”You must not think I am such a coward as that. But--the chilling atmosphere--the change--made me a little faint.”

”Shall I run down to the boat for some wine for you? I know that Janet has brought some claret.”

”Oh, not at all!” said she--and he saw with a great delight that her color was returning. ”I am quite well now. But I will rest for a minute, if you are in no hurry, before scrambling down those stones again.”

He was in no hurry; on the contrary, he sat down beside her and took her hand.

”You know, Gerty,” said he, ”it will be some time before I can learn all that you like and dislike, and what you can bear, and what pleases you best; it will be some time, no doubt; but then, when I have learned, you will find that no one will look after you so carefully as I will.”

”I know you are very kind to me,” said she, in a low voice.

”And now,” said he, very gently, and even timidly, but his firm hand held her languid one with something of a more nervous clasp, ”if you would only tell me, Gerty, that on such and such a day you would leave the stage altogether, and on such and such a day you would let me come to London--and you know the rest--then I would go to my mother, and there would be no need of any more secrecy, and instead of her treating you merely as a guest she would look on you as her daughter, and you might talk with her frankly.”

She did not at all withdraw the small gloved hand, with its fringe of fur at the end of the narrow sleeve. On the contrary, as it lay there in his warm grasp, it was like the small, white, furred foot of a ptarmigan, so little and soft and gentle was it.

”Well, you know, Keith,” she said, with a great kindness in the clear eyes, though they were cast down, ”I think the secret between you and me should be known to n.o.body at all but ourselves--any more than we can reasonably help. And it is a very great step to take; and you must not expect me to be in a hurry, for no good ever came of that. I did not think you would have cared so much--I mean, a man has so many distractions and occupations of shooting, and going away in your yacht and all that--I fancy--I am a little surprised--that you make so much of it. We have a great deal to learn yet, Keith; we don't know each other very well. By and by we may be quite sure that there is no danger; that we understand each other; that nothing and n.o.body is likely to interfere. But wouldn't you prefer to be left in the meantime just a little bit free--not quite pledged, you know, to such a serious thing--”

He had been listening to these faltering phrases in a kind of dazed and pained stupor. It was like the water overwhelming a drowning man. But at last he cried out--and he grasped both her hands in the sudden vehemence of the moment--

”Gerty, you are not drawing back! You do not despair of our being husband and wife! What is it that you mean?”

”Oh, Keith!” said she, quickly withdrawing one of her hands, ”you frighten me when you talk like that! You do not know what you are doing--you have hurt my wrist!”

”Oh, I hope not!” said he. ”Have I hurt your hand, Gerty?--and I would cut off one of mine to save you a scratch! But you will tell me now that you have no fears--that you don't want to draw back! I would like to take you back to Dare, and be able to say to every one, 'Do you know that this is my wife--that by and by she is coming to Dare--and you will all be kind to her for her own sake and for mine.' And if there is anything wrong, Gerty, if there is anything you would like altered, I would have it altered. We have a rude way of life; but every one would be kind to you. And if the life here is too rough for you, I would go anywhere with you that you choose to live. I was looking at the houses in Ess.e.x. I would go to Ess.e.x, or anywhere you might wish; that need not separate us at all. And why are you so cold and distant, Gerty? Has anything happened here to displease you? Have we frightened you by too much of the boats and of the sea? Would you rather live in an English county away from the sea? But I would do that for you, Gerty--if I was never to see a sea-bird again.”

And in spite of himself tears rose quickly to his eyes; for she seemed so far away from him, even as he held her hand; and his heart would speak at last--or break.