A Son of Perdition Part 17

"Greek, Roman, French, and Anglo-Saxon," commented Alice, amused; "you seem to have settled the countries we lived in. I suppose I called you Damon, or Marcus, or Jehan, or Harold--that is, supposing we were together in those days in those places."

"We have always been together," said Douglas decisively. "I am quite sure."

"Have you any proof?"

"Only the proof of my own feelings. I am not clairvoyant to the extent of remembering my former incarnations, nor can I--as some can--consciously leave my physical body at will and return to it with a recollection of what I have seen. Now you are more advanced."

"Indeed, I am not. I have learned much from my father, who knows a great deal about such psychic matters. But I have never been properly instructed and my knowledge is very limited."

"But you believe in the doctrine of reincarnation?" urged Montrose eagerly.

"Of course. It is a most sensible doctrine to believe, and explains nearly everything in a common-sense way. But I cannot prove my belief."

"There is no need to prove it to me," said Montrose, thinking of his vision, "for I know beyond all question that we have lived and loved before."

"Yes," a.s.sented the girl dreamily, "I knew you the moment you entered Mrs. Barrast's drawing-room."

The young man glanced round, and, seeing that they were more or less sheltered from observation, gently took her hand. She did not remove it, although her whole body thrilled to the touch. "You knew me as what?"

asked Montrose.

"I can't say more than that I knew you as a familiar friend."

"So cold a word," pleaded the other softly.

"What other word can I use to you when we have only known each other for a single week?"

"That is in this life. In other existences we knew each other for years."

Alice looked down timidly. "It--is--probable," she breathed.

"Then why not take up the new life at the point where the old one left off?"

"We don't know how it left off, Mr. Montrose."

"No. But a.s.suredly it did at a point where you called me by my then Christian name--Alice."

Her heart fluttered as he spoke thus intimately. "Perhaps we were not Christians," she said, rather embarra.s.sed.

"Ah!" he dropped her hand, "you are fencing. I merely spoke in the style of to-day to ill.u.s.trate my point."

"Now you are angry!"

"I never could be angry with you; only you will not understand."

"Perhaps I do," said Alice, with a whimsical smile.

"If so, why aren't you plain with me?" said Montrose, ruffled.

The mothering instinct, which makes every woman see in every man a child to be soothed and petted, rose within her. "Let us slap the bad, naughty table that has hurt baby," she said demurely, and Montrose looked up to see the laughter in her eyes.

"You little witch!" He caught her hand again and this time so roughly that she winced at the delicious pain. "You know quite well what I mean."

"I do--Douglas!"

"Oh!" He leaned towards her so violently that she swung aside in alarm.

"The eyes of Europe are on us," she said hastily, indicating the throng of children and nursemaids and grown-up people round the pond and on the paths and lying on the gra.s.s.

"Bother the eyes of Europe." But he saw that she was right and he did not dare proclaim his love by taking her in his arms. It was rather a poor thing to content himself with squeezing her hand. But he did, and so hard that she uttered an exclamation.

"Mr. Montrose, you are hurting me."

"Am I? Poor hand! I wish I could kiss it!" with a swift look round, he managed to do so. "There--Alice. Don't you dare to call me anything but Douglas."

"I believe you wish to take me by storm," she pouted, not ill-pleased.

"What! capture my own city?"

"Your own city? What do you mean?"

"I mean that I dwell in your heart. That city is mine."

"How conceited you are."

"Indeed, I am not. You know quite well that I am only speaking the truth. I loved you in the past and I love you now. All preliminaries of love were gone through ages ago. Why fence, as if we now meet for the first time? When I saw you in Mrs. Barrast's drawing-room I said, 'She is mine!' When you saw me you said, 'I am his'----"

"I'm sure I didn't," interrupted Alice hastily.

"You thought it, though."

"I shan't tell you."

"There is no need for you to do so. Oh, my dear," he went on entreatingly, "is there so much love in the world that you and I can afford to throw what we possess away? All my life I have been lonely: all my life I have wanted to meet you, to adore you, to----"

"How could you when you didn't know that I existed?"

"Fencing again. As if you didn't know that spirit is everything and form is nothing. We have been apart on earth until last week; but we have always been together in higher worlds, although neither you nor I can remember our companionship."

Alice laughed in a rather anxious manner. "Any one listening to us would be certain both of us were insane."

"I daresay. But as no one is listening, it doesn't matter. For the convenience of a world that doesn't understand such things, let us behave in a conventional manner. I shall visit at Mrs. Barrast's and court you in the approved style. In due time I shall write and ask your father if I may make you my wife. Meanwhile I want your a.s.surance that you love me and have always loved me in the past."

"But a single week----"

"Time doesn't matter. You know it doesn't. You love me, Alice?"

"Yes!" She saw that the time for fencing was ended. "I love you, Douglas!"