Part 45 (1/2)
”Hugh,” she demanded, white-faced and trembling, ”what is the matter?
Where are you going?”
He moved his shoulders uneasily, forcing a short laugh. ”I daresay you've guessed it. Undoubtedly you have. Else why--” He didn't finish save by a gesture of resignation.
”You mean you were going--going to try to swim to the mainland?”
”I meant to try it,” he confessed.
”But, Hugh--your promise?”
”I'm sorry, Mary; I didn't want to promise. But you see ... this state of things cannot go on. Something has got to be done. It's the only way I know of. I--I can't trust myself--”
”You'd leave me here while you went to seek death--!”
”Oh, it isn't as dangerous as all that. If you'd only been asleep, as I thought you were, I'd've been back before you knew anything about it.”
”I should have known!” she declared pa.s.sionately. ”I _was_ asleep, but I knew the instant you stirred. Tell me; how long did you stand listening here, to learn if I was awake or not?”
”Several minutes.”
”I knew it, though I was asleep, and didn't waken till the board squeaked. I knew you would try it--knew it from the time when you quibbled and evaded and wouldn't give me a straight promise. Oh, Hugh, my Hugh, if you had gone and left me...!”
Her voice shook and broke. She swayed imperceptibly toward him, then away, resting a shoulder against the wall and quivering as though she would have fallen but for that support. He found himself unable to endure the reproach of those dark and luminous eyes set in the mask of pallor that was her face in the half-light of the hallway. He looked away, humbled, miserable, pained.
”It's too bad,” he mumbled. ”I'm sorry you had to know anything about it. But ... it can't be helped, Mary. You've got to brace up. I won't be gone four hours at the longest.”
”Four hours!” She stood away from the wall, trembling in every limb.
”Hugh, you--you don't mean--you're not going--_now_?”
He nodded a wretched, makes.h.i.+ft affirmation.
”It must be done,” he muttered. ”Please--”
”But it must not be done! Hugh!” Her voice ascended ”I--I can't let you.
I won't let you! You ... It'll be your death--you'll drown. I shall have let you go to your death--”
”Oh, now, really--” he protested.
”But, Hugh, I _know_ it! I feel it here.” A hand strayed to rest, fluttering, above her heart. ”If I should let you go ... Oh, my dear one, don't, don't go!”
”Mary,” he began hoa.r.s.ely, ”I tell you--”
”You're only going, Hugh, because ... because I love you so I ... I am afraid to let you love me. That's true, isn't it? Hugh--it's true?”
”I can't stay ...” he muttered with a hang-dog air.
She sought support of the wall again, her body shaken by dry sobbing that it tore his heart to hear. ”You--you're really going--?”