A Woman's Will Part 33

_Warum nichts_?"

"It isn't possible!" she said firmly.

He turned about in his seat and called for the reckoning. After it was paid they went together back towards the hotel.

"You have told me that you will never marry again," he said presently, "and I have told you that I also intend never. But--" he stopped short.

The hotel court was there before them, and the scent of some night flowers came on the evening breeze from those beds of riotous color which fill the central s.p.a.ce of the old Cloister.

"Let us walk once around the Kreuzgang," he suggested, "and after that we will go in."

She a.s.sented, and they followed the vivid outline of Constance's history as portrayed in the large frescoes upon the inner wall of the vaulted pa.s.sage.

"I do not breathe here," he said suddenly; "come into the garden with me once again. But for a moment? I beg--I pray!"

They went out on to the terrace, pa.s.sing through the Refectory, now thick with smoke and scintillating with beer-steins.

"You say that you will never marry," he said again, as they encircled the base of Huss' Tower, "and I tell you that I also have the idea to never marry. But--"

He paused again, just by that bit of the old monastery wall which extends out towards the bathing-houses.

"But if--_if_," he emphasized the monosyllable with marked emphasis,--"_if_ I asked you to marry me, what would you say?"

Rosina did not stop for an instant's consideration.

"I should say 'no.'"

He received the blow full in his face.

"Why?" he asked.

"I do not want another husband. I don't like husbands. They are all alike."

"How?"

"You can't tell a thing about them beforehand; they always change, and are different after marriage from what they were before."

"I shall never change," he declared positively.

"They all say that."

"But I speak truth!"

"They all say that too."

"But with me it will arrive;" then he added, "with me it will arrive that I shall never change, because I shall _never_ marry."

His remark was such a complete surprise to her that she could hardly master her shock for a moment.

"If that was the point that you were leading up to," she said finally, "I'm certainly glad that I did not say 'yes.'"

He surveyed her, smiling.

"I particularly said 'if,'" he reminded her; "I said, '_if_ I asked you to marry me,' you know?"

Rosina felt a strong inclination to bring the evening to a close. She wanted to be alone and think.

"We must go in," she said.

"I also feel it," he answered.

So they went in. The hall and staircase were quite deserted. He walked with her to the top of the first flight.

"Do we leave good-bye here?" he asked.

"Yes," she said smiling; "I think so."

He stood looking at her, and out of the depths of his nature various phantoms strove into shape.

"It is well that I go," he said seriously; "after all, we are not children, you and I, and however we laugh it is always that, that we really are not children." He put out his hand and took hers. "I shall be away, and the time will be long, and--" he paused abruptly.

Her eyes almost closed beneath the unbearable heat of his gaze.

"Shall you remember me?" she asked, faintly this time.

"Yes, much."

Then she opened her eyes and withdrew her hand.

"For how long?" she said as before.

He was still staring down at her.

"Who can say!"

"For three weeks? for four? for six?"

"_Je ne sais pas_," he said briefly; "if I think too much I must come back, and that will not be wisely."

"We must not stand here," she said suddenly; "adieu, au revoir!"

"Yes," he replied sombrely, "we must part now."

He looked at her, and his eyes locked hers hard and fast for a long minute. She felt ill, faint, her breath seemed failing her. Then--

He seized her hand and pressed it so strongly against his lips that his lips parted and she felt his teeth against her flesh.

"_Je vous aime!_" he whispered, almost inaudibly. "Adieu!"