Part 48 (2/2)
”It was all the winter months I was saying to myself, 'Now you will not vex her with too much pleading, for she has much trouble with her work; and that is enough; and a man can bear his own trouble.' And once or twice, when we have been caught in a bad sea, I said to myself, 'And what matter now if the end comes?--for perhaps that would only release her.' But then again, Gerty, I thought of the time you gave me the red rose; and I said, 'Surely her heart will not go away from me; and I have plenty to live for yet!'”
Then she looked him frankly in the face, with those beautiful, clear, sad eyes.
”You deserve all the love a woman can give you, Keith; for you have a man's heart. And I wish I could make you a fair return for all your courage, and gentleness, and kindness--”
”Ah, do not say that,” he said, quickly. ”Do not think I am complaining of you, Gerty. It is enough--it is enough--I thank G.o.d for his mercy to me; for there never was any man so glad as I was when you gave me the red rose. And now, sweetheart--now you will tell me that I will put away all this trouble and have no more fears; and there will be no need to think of what you are doing far away; and there will be one day that all the people will know--and there will be laughing and gladness that day; and if we will keep the pipes away from you, all the people about will have the pipes, and there will be a dance and a song that day. Ah, Gerty, you must not think harshly of the people about here. They have their ways. They would like to please you. But my heart is with them; and a marriage-day would be no marriage-day to me that I did not spend among my own people--my own people.”
He was talking quite wildly. She had seen him in this mood once or twice before, and she was afraid.
”But you know, Keith,” said she, gently, and with averted eyes, ”a great deal has to be done before then. And a woman is not so impulsive as a man; and you must not be angry if I beg for a little time--”
”And what is time?” said he, in the same glad and wild way--and now it was his hand holding hers that was trembling. ”It will all go by in a moment--like a dream--when we know that the one splendid day is coming.
And I will send a haunch to the Dubh Artach men that morning; and I will send a haunch to Skerryvore; and there will not be a man in Iona, or Coll, or Mull, that will not have his dram that day. And what will you do, Gerty--what will you do? Oh, I will tell you now what you will do on that morning. You will take out some sheets of the beautiful, small, scented paper; and you will write to this theatre and to that theatre: '_Good-by--perhaps you were useful to me once, and I bear you no ill-will: but--Good-by forever and ever!_' And I will have all the children that I took to the Crystal Palace last summer given a fine dinner; and the six boy-pipers will play _Mrs. Macleod of Raasay_ again; and they will have a fine reel once more. There will be many a one know that you are married that day, Gerty. And when is the day to be, Gerty?
Cannot you tell me now?”
”There is a drop of rain!” she exclaimed; and she suddenly sprang to her feet. The skies were black overhead. ”Oh, dear me!” she said, ”how thoughtless of us to leave your poor cousin Janet in that open boat, and a shower coming on! Please give me your hand now, Keith. And you must not take all these things so seriously to heart, you know; or I will say you have not the courage of a feeble woman like myself. And do you think the shower will pa.s.s over?”
”I do not know,” said he, in a vague way, as if he had not quite understood the question; but he took her hand, and in silence guided her down to the rocks, where the boat was ready to receive them.
And now they saw the strange transformation that had come over the world. The great troubled sea was all of a dark slate-green, with no glad ripples of white, but with long-squally drifts of black; and a cold wind was blowing gustily in; and there were hurrying clouds of a leaden hue tearing across the sky. As for the islands--where were they? Ulva was visible, to be sure, and Colonsay--both of them a heavy and gloomy purple; and nearer at hand the rock of Errisker showed in a wan, gray light between the lowering sky and the squally sea; but Lunga, and Fladda, and Staffa, and Iona, and even the long promontory of the Ross of Mull, were all hidden away behind the driving mists of rain.
”Oh you lazy people!” Janet Macleod cried, cheerfully--she was not at all frightened by the sudden storm. ”I thought the wild beast had killed you in the cave. And shall we have luncheon now, Keith, or go back at once?”
He cast an eye towards the westward horizon and the threatening sky: Janet noticed at once that he was rather pale.
”We will have luncheon as they pull us back,” said he, in an absent way, as if he was not quite sure of what was happening around him.
He got her into the boat, and then followed. The men, not sorry to get away from these jagged rocks, took to their oars with a will. And then he sat silent and distraught, as the two women, m.u.f.fled up in their cloaks, chatted cheerfully, and partook of the sandwiches and claret that Janet had got out of the basket. ”_Fhir a bhata_,” the men sang to themselves; and they pa.s.sed under the great cliffs, all black and thunderous now; and the white surf was springing over the rocks. Macleod neither ate nor drank; but sometimes he joined in the conversation in a forced way; and occasionally he laughed more loudly than the occasion warranted.
”Oh yes,” he said, ”oh yes, you are becoming a good sailor now, Gertrude. You have no longer any fear of the water.”
”You will become like little Johnny Wickes, Miss White,” the cousin Janet said, ”the little boy I showed you the other day. He has got to be like a duck in his love for the water. And, indeed, I should have thought he would have got a fright when Keith saved him from drowning; but no.”
”Did you save him from being drowned?” she said, turning to him. ”And you did not tell me the story?”
”It was no story,” said he. ”He fell into the water, and we picked him up somehow;” and then he turned impatiently to the men, and said some words to them in the Gaelic, and there was no more singing of the Farewell to the Boatman after that.
They got home to Castle Dare before the rain came on; though, indeed, it was but a pa.s.sing shower, and it was succeeded by a bright afternoon that deepened into a clear and brilliant sunset; but as they went up through the moist-smelling larch-wood--and as Janet happened to fall behind for a moment, to speak to a herdboy who was by the wayside--Macleod said to his companion,--
”And have you no other word for me, Gertrude?”
Then she said with a very gracious smile,
”You must be patient, Keith. Are we not very well off as we are? I know a good many people who are not quite so well off. And I have no doubt we shall have courage to meet whatever good or bad fortune the days may bring us; and if it is good, then we shall shake hands over it, just as the village people do in an opera.”
Fine phrases; though this man, with the dark and hopeless look in his eyes, did not seem to gain much gladness from them. And she forgot to tell him about that engagement which was to last till Christmas; perhaps if she had told him just then he would scarcely have heard her.
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