Black Bartlemy's Treasure Part 70

Left alone I betook me to my razors and shaved me with unwonted care, yet hearkening for her quick, light step the while.

Scarce was my labour ended that I thought to hear the rustle of leaves and hasted from the cave, calling on her name and mighty joyous and eager:

"Damaris! Art here at last, dear my lady!" And so came face to face with Sir Rupert.

He stood smiling at my discomfiture, yet his black brows were close--but he halted and folded his arms and I could see the betraying bulge of the pistol on his great side-pocket. For a while he measured me with his eye, at last he spoke:

"Within the hour my Lady Brandon sails for England, and from this hour you will forget my Lady Brandon ever existed or--"

"Tush, man!" says I, "Begone, you weary me."

"Or," he went on with an airy gesture of his hand, "I shall cure your weariness for good--"

"Shoot me?"

"Most joyfully! Whatsoever hath chanced betwixt you in this wilderness, my Lady Brandon's honour must and--"

Warned by my look he clapped hand to his pocket but as he freed the weapon I was upon him, grasping his pistol-hand. For a moment we swayed together, he striving frantically to break my hold, I to wrest the weapon from him, then it exploded, and uttering a sudden, long-drawn gasp he sank to the gra.s.s at my feet and lay very mute and still. Whilst I yet stared from his pallid face to the pistol where it had fallen, I heard shouts, a running of feet, and glancing up saw the three gentlemen, his companions, standing at gaze, motionless; then suddenly, they turned and hasted away, crying "murder" on me as they ran. Like one in a dream I stared down at Sir Rupert's motionless form, until I was aware of my lady beside him on her knees and of the pallor of her face as she looked from him to me, her eyes wide with horror:

"If you have killed him, Martin--if you have killed him, here is an end of our happiness--G.o.d forgive you!"

Now would I have spoken but found no words, for in this moment I knew that Sir Rupert was surely dead. Dumbly I watched the pa.s.sionate labour of her dexterous hands, saw them pause at last to clasp and wring themselves in helpless despair, saw the three gentlemen, obedient to her word, stoop and lift that limp form and bear it slowly away towards Deliverance Sands and she going beside them.

Now as I stood watching her leave me, I heard the sudden roar of a gun, and glancing towards the ship saw they were already making sail.

Roused by this I came beside my lady, and found my voice at last.

"Here was the work of chance--not I, Damaris, not I!"

But she, gazing ever on that piteous, limp form, sought to silence me with a gesture. "G.o.d, Damaris, you'll never doubt my word?

Speak--will you not speak to me? He threatened me--we strove together and the pistol went off in his grasp--"

"d.a.m.ned Murderer!" cried one of the gentlemen.

After this I held my peace, despairing, and thus we went in silence until before us was Deliverance Beach. All at once I caught her up in my arms and, despite her struggles, began to bear her back up the ascent. For a moment only she strove, uttering no word, then hiding her face against me, suffered me to bear her where I would. But now I heard shouts and cries that told me I was pursued:

"You are mine, Damaris!" I cried, "Mine henceforth, and no man shall take you from me whiles I live!"

Despite my haste the noise of pursuit waxed louder, spurring me to greater effort. And now it became the end and aim of my existence to reach the cave in time, wherefore I began to run, on and up, until my breath came in great, panting sobs; my heart seemed bursting, and in my throbbing brain a confusion of wild thoughts:

"Better die thus, my love upon my heart ... The ship shall sail without us ... The door of the cave is stout, G.o.d be thanked and, firing from the loophole, I may withstand them all."

Breathless and reeling I gained the plateau at last, but as I staggered towards the cave I tripped and fell heavily, crushing her beneath me.

But I struggled up, and bearing her within the cave, laid her upon my bed and closing the door, barred it; then I reached my muskets from their rack and set them in readiness. This done, and finding my lady so still and silent, I came to view her where she lay and, peering in the dimness, uttered a great cry to see the pale oval of cheek horribly bedabbled with blood. Trembling in a sickness of fear I sank beside her on my knees, then, seeing she yet breathed, I parted the silky hair above her temple and so came on a cruel gash. Now as I strove to staunch this precious blood I heard again the echoing thunder of a gun.

"Damaris!" says I, clasping her to me and kissing her pallid lips, "O Damaris, they are summoning us to England, d'ye hear, beloved, d'ye hear? Well, they shall call in vain--they shall sail without us. Love hath found us and here with Love will we abide. Wake, beloved, wake and tell me you would have it so!"

But, save for her breathing, and despite all my pleading and caresses, she lay like one dead. So I brought water and bathed her face and throat and wrists, yet all to no purpose, so that fear grew to agony.

How if she die thus? (thinks I) Why then I can die likewise. But again, how if she wake, and finding the ship gone, despise me and, in place of her lover, look on me as her gaoler? For a long while I crouched there, my head bowed on my fists, since well I knew that England might shelter me nevermore. And yet to part with her that was become my very life--

As I knelt thus, in an agony of indecision, was sudden tumult of knocking upon the door and the sound of fierce voices:

"Come forth, murderer! Open to us, rogue--open!"

But still I knelt there heeding only the hurry of my thoughts:

"How if the ship sail without us? How if she wake and know me for her gaoler? How might I endure loneliness? How part with her that was become my life? Belike she might not hate me--"

"Open, murderer, open!" roared the voices.

"A murderer! How if she believe this? Better loneliness and death than to read horror of me in her every look!"

And now beyond the door was silence, and then I heard Adam hailing me:

"Oho, shipmate--unbar! Tide's on the turn and we must aboard. And trust me, Martin, for your comrade as will see justice done ye. So come, Martin, you and my lady and let's aboard!"

"Aye, aye, Adam!" quoth I, "Better die o' solitude than live with a breaking heart. So cheerily it is, Adam!"

Then rising, I took my dear lady in my arms, and holding her against my heart, I kissed her hair, her closed eyes, her pale, unresponsive lips, and bearing her to the door, contrived to open it and stepped forth of the cave. And here I found Adam, pistol in hand, with divers of his fellows and the three gentlemen who scowled amain, yet, eyeing Adam's weapon, did no more than clench their fists and mutter of gibbets and the like.

"Look you, Adam," says I, "my lady is stunned of a fall, but 'twill be no great matter once we come aboard--let us go."

"Why then, Lord love you, Martin--hasten!" says he, "For tide's falling and it's all we shall do to clear the reef."

Reaching Deliverance Sands I saw the boat already launched and manned and, wading into the water, laid my lady in the stern sheets.

"Come!" cried Adam, reaching me his hand, "In with ye man--"

"Not I, Adam."

"Why, what now, comrade?" says he, staring.

"Now--my hand, Adam, and a prosperous voyage!"

"How, comrade, will ye stay marooned in this desolation?" and he stooped to peer down at me. "Martin," says he, gripping my hand and staring into my eyes, "Doth this mean you are safer here by reason of the mystery of Sir Rupert's sudden end?"

"Mayhap!" says I, and loosed his hand. "What think you?"

"That you are no murderer, comrade, nor ever will be!"

"My lady said as much once! Farewell, Adam!" And I waded back to the beach.

"Give way, lads!" cries he, "Give way!" I heard the splash and beat of their oars, and when I turned to look I saw them half-way across the lagoon.

Then I turned and wandered aimlessly along these white sands that had known so often the light tread of her pretty feet. Very slowly I went, with eyes that saw not, ears that heard not and my mind a confusion of bitter thoughts.

At last I reached the little plateau, and from this eminence beheld the ship standing away under a press of sail, and saw that night was at hand. Suddenly as I watched, the ship, her lofty masts and gleaming canvas swam all blurred and misty on my sight, and sinking to my knees I bowed my head.

"Almighty G.o.d!" says I, "Thou hast shown unto me the wonder of love and the heaven it might have been, but since love is not for me, teach me how I may be avenged."