Part 17 (1/2)

”By the way, Hazon,” he said indifferently, ”I find there is still a matter I have to attend to. So you must go on without me. I expect I'll overtake you to-morrow not long after sunrise--or not much later.

So-long!”

The dark, impa.s.sive face of the up-country man underwent no change. He had understood the whole change of plan, but it was no concern of his.

So he merely said ”_Ja_, so-long,” and continued his way.

Laurence did not go back to the hotel. The last thing he desired was that his return should be noticed and commented upon. He sought out Rainsford, who, having stable-room, willingly consented to put up his steed, and, being a discreet fellow, was not likely to indulge in undue tongue-wagging. Then he took his way down to Booyseus.

As he stepped forth through the gloom--for by this time it was quite dark--the words of that missive seemed burned into his brain in characters of fire and of gold. What words they were, too! He had read her glance aright, then? It was only that intrepidity of self-command which he had failed to allow for. And he? Why had he been so strong that morning? Seldom indeed did a second opportunity occur. But now? When he should return up the hill he was now descending, such a memory would be his to carry forth with him into the solitude and peril and privation of his enterprise! Yet to what end? Even if he were successful in ama.s.sing wealth untold, yet they two must be as far apart as ever. Well, that need not follow, he told himself. With wealth one can do anything--anything; without it nothing, was at this time the primary article of Laurence Stanninghame's creed; and at the thought his step grew more elastic, and all unconsciously his head threw itself back in a gesture of antic.i.p.atory triumph.

The house was quiet as he approached. At the sound of his step on the _stoep_--almost before he had time to knock--the door was opened--was opened by Lilith herself--then closed behind him.

She said no word; she only looked up at him. The subdued light of the half-darkened hall softened as with an almost unearthly beauty the upturned face, and forth from it her eyes shone, glowed with the l.u.s.tre of a radiant tenderness, too vast, too overwhelming for her lips to utter.

And he? He, too, said no word. Those lips of hers, sweet, inviting, were pressed to his; that peerless form was wrapped in his embrace, sinking therein with a soft sigh of contentment. What room was there for mere words? as again and again he kissed the lips--eyes--hair--then the lips again. This was only the beginning of a farewell visit,--a sad, whirling, heart-break of farewell,--yet as the blood surged boiling through Laurence Stanninghame's veins, and heart, pressed against heart, seemed swelled to bursting point, he thought that life, even such as it had been, was worth living if it could contain such a moment as this.

Equally, too, did he realize that, in life or in death, the triumph-joy of this moment should illumine his memory, dark though it might be, for ever and ever.

”What did you think of me when you got my note, dear one?” she whispered at last. ”And I have been in perfect agony ever since, for fear it should be too late. But I could not let you go as I did this morning. I felt such an irresistible craving to see you again, Laurence, my darling, to hear your voice. I felt we could not part as we did--each trying to deceive the other, each knowing, the while, that it was impossible. I wanted more than that for a memory throughout the blank time that is coming.”

”Yes, we were both too strong, my Lilith. And why should we have been?

What scruple ever stood anybody to the good in this h.e.l.l-fraud of a state called 'Life'? Not one--not one! Yes, we were too strong, and your self-command deceived even me.”

”My self-command? Ah, Laurence, my darling, how little you knew! All the time I was battling hard with myself, forcing down an irresistible longing to do this--and this--and this!” And drawing down his head, she kissed him, again and again, long, tender kisses, as though her whole soul sought entrance into his.

”But I shall tire you, my dearest, if I keep you standing here like this,” she went on. ”Come inside now, and our last talk--our last for a long time--shall, at any rate, be a cosey one.”

She drew him within the half open door of an adjoining room. The window curtains were drawn, and a shaded lamp gave forth the same subdued and chastened light as that which burned in the hall. There were flowers in vases and sprays, arranged in every tasteful and delicate manner, and distilling a fragrance subtile and pervading. The sumptuous prettiness of the furniture and ornaments--picture frames encasing mystic and thought-evoking subjects, books disposed here and there, delicate embroidery, the work of her fingers--in short, the hundred and one dainty knick-knacks pleasing to the eye--seemed to reflect the bright, beautiful personality of Lilith; for, indeed, the arrangement and disposal of them was almost entirely her own.

She made him sit down upon the softest and most comfortable couch; then, as she seated herself beside him, he drew her head down to rest upon his shoulder and wound his arms about her.

”Why did you wait until even the twelfth hour?” he said. ”Why did you blind me all this time, my Lilith? Only think what we have lost by it!”

”Ah, yes, I have indeed. But tell me, dear one, it is not too late, is it, even though it be the twelfth hour?”

”It came very near being too late. I had already started. Yes, it is indeed the twelfth hour. Too late? I don't know,” he went on, in a tone of sombre bitterness. ”Think of the blissful times that might have been ours had I but known. I would have taught you the real meaning of the word 'love.' I would have drawn your innermost soul from you--would have drawn it into mine--have twined every thought of your being around mine--had I but known. And I could have done this; you know I could, do you not? Think a moment, then answer.”

The head which rested on his shoulder seemed to lean heavier there; the arm which encircled her was pressed tighter by hers to the round, beautiful waist, as though to bring herself closer within his embrace.

The answer came, rapturously sweet, but with a thrill of pain:

”I know you could have. There is no need to think, even for a moment.

You have done it.”

”I have tried to, even against difficulties. Come what may, Lilith, you shall never be free from the spell of this love of ours. All thoughts of other love shall be flat, and stale, and dead; and now, when I am gone, your whole soul shall ache and throb with a sense of loss--love and pain intertwined--yet not one pang of the latter would you forego, lest it should lessen the rapturous keenness of the former in the minutest degree. This is what you have caused _me_ to suffer by reason of your stony self-command up till this morning. Now you shall suffer it too.”

His tones were calm, even almost stern as those of a judge p.r.o.nouncing sentence. Lilith, drinking in every word, felt already that every word was true. That sense of love and pain was already in possession of her soul, and would retain possession until all capacity for feeling was dulled and dead.

”You were cruel to draw my very soul out of me as you have done--to force me to love you as I do,” she answered--”cruel and pitiless.”