Captain Desmond, V.C. Part 41

For all his modesty, Wyndham could not fail to interpret these signs according to his heart's desire; and when, on the night of Evelyn's accident, Honor promised him an early ride, prefaced by _chota hazri_[26] in the verandah, he told himself that he need wait no longer--that the great moment of his life had come at last.

[26] Early breakfast.

On the stroke of seven he mounted the verandah steps. A camp table, set with fruit, freshly made toast, and a tea-tray, awaited him in a shadowed corner. Two thick bamboo blinds, let down between the wide arches, converted that end of the verandah into a room, its low-toned coolness broken only by an arrow of sunlight, shooting through a gap in one of the blinds, like a streak of powdered gold. Wyndham's eyes lingered approvingly on every detail of the homely scene; and he caught himself wondering what his sensations would be half an hour hence; what words he should speak to her when the dreaded, longed-for moment arrived.

A light footstep reached his ears; and he turned sharply round to find her standing in the open doorway.

She did not come forward at once, nor did she speak. For the man's face was transfigured. She beheld, in that instant, his unveiled heart and spirit--foresaw the ordeal that awaited her.

Noting her hesitation, he came forward with unconcealed eagerness.

"Good morning," she murmured mechanically. There seemed nothing else that could be said.

Then a wave of colour surged into her face; for he kept the hand she gave him, and drew her towards the privacy of the tea-table. She would have sacrificed much at that moment for the power to speak to prevent the pain she was bound to inflict; but her heart seemed to be beating in her throat; and she endured, as best she might, the controlled intensity of his look and tone.

"You know--surely you know what I find it so hard to say--I love you,--Honor, with all there is of me. I want you--G.o.d knows how I want you! And--you----?"

He bent his head to receive the answer that need not be spoken in words. But all vestige of colour was gone from her face, and the unsteadiness of her beautiful mouth cut him to the heart.

"Oh, forgive me!" she pleaded. "I have been thoughtless, selfish,--blind. But you seemed so entirely my friend--I did not guess. I would have given the world to have spared you--_this_."

He straightened himself like a man under the lash; but he did not relinquish her hand.

"I can't let you reproach yourself," he said quietly, "because I misunderstood signs that seemed to tell me your heart was awake at last. But now--now you know how it is with me, at least you will let me hope----?"

"I wish I might," she answered, so low that he could scarcely hear.

"But--it's impossible!"

"Am I so entirely unworthy--unlovable?"

"No, oh no. It is not that."

"D'you mean--I was not mistaken. Is there--any one else?"

"Yes."

It was impossible to lie to him, and the blood rushed back into her face at the confession.

"Is he _here_?" Paul demanded, with sudden energy.

"You mustn't ask any questions about--him--about it, please."

"Only this one. Shall you--marry him?"

"No. Never."

Sheer incredulity held him silent; and when he spoke there was rebellion in his tone.

"Your life and my own are to remain broken, unfulfilled, because of--this incomprehensible thing?"

"There is nothing else possible."

He relinquished her hand at that, giving it back to her, as it were, with a quiet finality of renunciation that shattered her self-control.

She sank into a chair and hid her face in a vain attempt to conceal the tears that came in spite of herself.

He stood beside her for several seconds in a heart-broken silence; then gently touched her arm.

"Honor--Honor, is it really so impossible--as you think? I tell you plainly I can't understand----"

She uncovered her face and looked up at him.

"Can any one ever understand--this sort of thing? Isn't it a force outside the control of reason, of even the strongest will?"

"You are right," he answered gravely; and sitting down leaned towards her, his elbows on the table. "But there remains the fact that sooner than lose you outright, I am willing to marry you--on any terms. If you have no hope for yourself, could you not bring yourself to partially fulfil mine? Will you--in mercy to me--reconsider your decision?"

She looked up quickly with parted lips; but his raised hand enjoined silence.

"My suggestion deserves thinking over for a few minutes, if no longer.

And in the meanwhile--" he smiled with a touch of his old humorous resignation to things in general--"we might do worse than have some _chota hazri_. What a brute I was to upset you before you had had a morsel to eat!"

She shook her head, with a faint reflection of his smile.

"I don't want anything to eat."

"Oh yes, you do! I suppose I must set you an example of common-sense behaviour."

He peeled two bananas with deliberate care, and set one on her plate.

Then he lifted the cosy.

"That tea must be strong by this time; but the water's hot, and you can doctor it with that. Now--begin."

He himself began upon his banana, and she glanced at him in astonishment, not untinged with admiration, at his effortless transition from controlled pa.s.sion to the commonplaces of everyday life. They got through the short meal after a fashion; and both were devoutly thankful when the demands of common-sense had been fulfilled.

Wyndham rose, and lit a cigarette.

"Now, I'll leave you to yourself for five minutes," he announced. "It is getting late. But before we go for our ride this matter must be settled once for all." He laid both hands on the table and looked steadily into her face. "You are the most just-minded woman I know.

Look all round the question before you decide. Try to realise a little what it will mean for me to give up all hope. In losing you, I lose everything. There can be no question of any one else for me. Take me or--leave me, I am _yours_ for the rest of my life."

He turned away to save her from the necessity of answering, and walked to the far end of the verandah, leaving her alone with the strongest temptation she had yet experienced--the temptation to trample on her own imperious love, and to accept this man's selfless devotion in the hope that it might one day conquer and monopolise her heart.

Had marriage with Wyndham entailed immediate removal from the atmosphere of Theo Desmond, hesitancy might have ended in capitulation. But life-long intimacy with him, as the wife of his closest friend, was unthinkable for a moment; and if by the wildest possibility Paul should ever suspect the truth----!

She shuddered and glanced in his direction.

"Major Wyndham," she said softly.

He hastened back to her at once. But one look at her face sufficed.

The eagerness faded from his eyes, leaving them cold as a winter sky after sunset.