Part 60 (1/2)

Then Hamish turned to her, and said, in the same respectful way,

”Will you go below, mem, now? It iss in the saloon that you will find Sir Keith; and if Christina iss in the way, you will tell her to go away, mem.”

The small gloved hand was laid on the top of the companion, and Miss White carefully went down the wooden steps. And it was with a gentleness equal to her own that Hamish shut the little doors after her.

But no sooner had she quite disappeared than the old man's manner swiftly changed. He caught hold of the companion hatch, jammed it across with a noise that was heard throughout the whole vessel; and then he sprang to the helm, with the keen gray eyes afire with a wild excitement.

”---- her, we have her now!” he said, between his teeth; and he called aloud: ”Hold the jib to weather there! Off with the moorings, John Cameron! ---- her, we have her now!--and it is not yet that she has put a shame on Macleod of Dare!”

CHAPTER XLIV.

THE PRISONER.

The sudden noise overhead and the hurried trampling of the men on deck were startling enough; but surely there was nothing to alarm her in the calm and serious face of this man who stood before her. He did not advance to her. He regarded her with a sad tenderness, as if he were looking at one far away. When the beloved dead come back to us in the wonder-halls of sleep, there is no wild joy of meeting: there is something strange. And when they disappear again, there is no surprise: only the dull aching returns to the heart.

”Gertrude,” said he, ”you are as safe here as ever you were in your mother's arms. No one will harm you.”

”What is it? What do you mean?” said she, quickly.

She was somewhat bewildered. She had not expected to meet him thus suddenly face to face. And then she became aware that the companion-way by which she had descended into the saloon had grown dark: that was the meaning of the harsh noise.

”I want to go ash.o.r.e, Keith,” said she hurriedly. ”Put me on sh.o.r.e. I will speak to you there.”

”You cannot go ash.o.r.e,” said he, calmly.

”I don't know what you mean,” said she; and her heart began to beat hurriedly. ”I tell you I want to go ash.o.r.e, Keith. I will speak to you there.”

”You cannot go ash.o.r.e, Gertrude,” he repeated. ”We have already left Erith. * * * Gerty, Gerty,” he continued, for she was struck dumb with a sudden terror, ”don't you understand now? I have stolen you away from yourself. There was but the one thing left: the one way of saving you.

And you will forgive me, Gerty, when you understand it all--”

She was gradually recovering from her terror. She did understand it now.

And he was not ill at all.

”Oh, you coward! you coward! you coward!” she exclaimed, with a blaze of fury in her eyes. ”And I was to confer a kindness on you--a last kindness! But you dare not do this thing! I tell you, you dare not do it! I demand to be put on sh.o.r.e at once! Do you hear me?”

She turned wildly round, as if to seek for some way of escape. The door in the ladies' cabin stood open; the clay-light was streaming down into that cheerful little place; there were some flowers on the dressing-table. But the way by which she had descended was barred over and dark.

She faced him again, and her eyes were full of fierce indignation and anger; she drew herself up to her full height; she overwhelmed him with taunts, and reproaches, and scorn. That was a splendid piece of acting, seeing that it had never been rehea.r.s.ed. He stood unmoved before all this theatrical rage.

”Oh yes, you were proud of your name,” she was saying, with bitter emphasis; ”and I thought you belonged to a race of gentlemen, to whom lying was unknown. And you were no longer murderous and revengeful; but you can take your revenge on a woman, for all that! And you ask me to come and see you, because you are ill! And you have laid a trap--like a coward!”

”And if I am what you say, Gerty,” said he, quite gently, ”it is the love of you that has made me that. Oh, you do not know!”

She saw nothing of the lines that pain had written on this man's face; she recognized nothing of the very majesty of grief in the hopeless eyes. He was only her gaoler, her enemy.

”Of course--of course,” she said. ”It is the woman--it is always the woman who is in fault! That is a manly thing, to put the blame on the woman! And it is a manly thing to take your revenge on a woman! I thought, when a man had a rival, that it was his rival whom he sought out. But you--you kept out of the way--”

He strode forward and caught her by the wrist. There was a look in his face that for a second terrified her into silence.