Greatheart Part 92

"Don't be distressed!" he said, "I will never do it again. I am now--and always--your trusty friend."

And with that he rose in his slow way, paused to light another cigarette, smiled again upon her, and softly went indoors.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE LAST SUMMONS

There is nought in life more solemn than the waiting hush that falls before the coming of that great Change which men call Death. And it is to the watchers rather than to the pa.s.sing soul itself that the wonder seems to draw most close. To stand before the veil, to know that very soon it must be lifted for the loved one to pa.s.s beyond, to wait for the glimpse of that spirit-world from which only the frail wall of mortality divides even the least spiritual, to watch as it were for the Gate of Death to open and the great Revelation to flash for one blinding moment upon the dazzled eyes that may not grasp the meaning of what they see; this is to stand for a s.p.a.ce within the very Sanctuary of G.o.d.

The awe of it and the wonder hung night and day over the little rose-covered house on the heath above the sea where Isabel was breathing forth the last of her broken earthly life. Dinah moved in that strange atmosphere as one in a dream. She spent most of her time with Scott in a silent companionship in which no worldly thoughts seemed to have any part. The things of earth, all worry, all distress, were in abeyance, had sunk to such infinitesimal proportions that she was scarcely aware of them at all. It was as though they had climbed the steep mountain with Isabel, and not till they turned again to descend could they be aware of those things which lay so far below.

Without Scott, both doubts and fears would have been her portion, but with him all terrors fell shadow-like away before her. She hardly realized all that his presence meant to her during those days of waiting, but she leaned upon him instinctively as upon a sure support. He never failed her.

Of Eustace she saw but little. From the very first it was evident that his place was nearer to Isabel than Scott's had ever been. He did not shoulder Scott aside, but somehow as a matter of course he occupied the position that the younger brother had sought to fill for the past seven years. It was natural, it was inevitable. Dinah could have resented this superseding at the outset had she not seen how gladly Scott gave place.

Later she realized that the ground on which they stood was too holy for such considerations to have any weight with either brother. They were united in the one supreme effort to make the way smooth for the sister who meant so much to them both; and during all those days of waiting Dinah never heard a harsh or impatient word upon the elder's lips. All arrogance, all hardness, seemed to have fallen away from him as he trod with them that mountain-path. Even old Biddy realized the change and relented somewhat towards him though she never wholly brought herself to look upon him as an ally.

It was on a stormy evening at the beginning of July that Dinah was sitting alone in the little creeper-grown verandah watching the wonderful greens and purples of the sea when Eustace came soft-footed through the window behind her and sat down in a chair close by, which Scott had vacated a few minutes before.

Scott had just gone to the village post-office with some letters, but she had refused to accompany him, for it was the hour when she usually sat with Isabel. She glanced at Eustace swiftly as he sat down, half-expecting a message from the sick-room. But he said nothing, merely leaning back in the wicker-chair, and fixing his eyes upon the sombre splendour of endless waters upon which hers had been resting. There was a ma.s.sive look about him, as of a strong man deliberately bent to some gigantic task. A little tremor went through her as furtively she watched him. His silence, unlike the silences of Scott, was disquieting. She could never feel wholly at ease in his presence.

He turned his head towards her after a few seconds of absolute stillness, and in a moment her eyes sank. She sat in palpitating silence, as one caught in some disgraceful act.

But still he did not speak, and the painful colour flooded her face under his mute scrutiny till in sheer distress she found herself forced to take the initiative.

"Is--Isabel expecting me?" she faltered. "Ought I to go?"

"No," he said quietly. "She is dozing. Old Biddy is with her."

It seemed as if the intolerable silence were about to fall again. She cast about desperately for a means of escape. "Biddy was up and down during the night. I think I will relieve her for a little while and let her rest."

She would have risen with the words, but unexpectedly he reached forth a detaining hand. "Do you mind waiting a minute?" he said. "I will not say--or do--anything to frighten you."

He spoke with a faint smile that somehow hurt her almost unbearably. She remained as she was, leaning forward in her chair. "I--am not afraid,"

she murmured almost inaudibly.

His hand seemed to plead for hers, and in a moment she laid her own within it. "That's right," he said. "Dinah, will you try and treat me as if I were a friend--just for a few minutes?"

The tone of his voice--like his smile--pierced her with a poignancy that sent the quick tears to her eyes. She forced them back with all her strength.

"I would like to--always," she whispered.

"Thank you," he said. "You are kinder than I deserve. I have done nothing to win your confidence, so it is all the more generous of you to bestow it. On the strength of your generosity I am going to ask you a question which only a friend could ask. Dinah, is there any understanding of any sort--apart from friendship--between you and Scott?"

She started slightly at the question, and in a moment firmly, with a certain authority, his hand closed upon hers.

"You needn't be afraid to speak on Scott's account," he said, with that rather grim humility that seemed so foreign to his proud nature that every sign of it stabbed her afresh. "I am not such a dog in the manger as that and he knows it."

"Oh no!" Dinah said, and her words came with a rush. "But--I told you before, didn't I?--he doesn't care for me like that. He never has--never will."

"I wonder why you say that," Eustace said.

"Because it's true!" With a species of feverish insistence she answered him. "How could I help knowing? Of course I know! Oh, please don't let us talk about it! It--it hurts me."

"I want you to bear with me," he said gently, "just for a few minutes.

Dinah, what if you are making a mistake? Mistakes happen, you know. Scott is a shy sort of chap, and immensely reserved. Doesn't it occur to you that he may care for you and yet be afraid--just as you are afraid--to let you know?"

"No," Dinah said. "He doesn't. I know he doesn't!"

She spoke with her eyes upon the ground, her voice sunk very low. She felt as if she were being drawn down from the heights she desired to tread. She did not want to contemplate the problems that she knew very surely awaited her upon the lower level. She did not want to quit her sanctuary before the time.

Sir Eustace received her a.s.surance in silence, but he kept her hand in his, and the power of his personality seemed to penetrate to the very centre of her being.

He spoke at last almost under his breath, still closely watching her downcast face. "Are you quite sure you still care for him--in that way?"

She made a quick, appealing gesture. "Oh, need I answer that? I feel so--ashamed."

"No, you needn't answer," he made steady reply. "But you've nothing to be ashamed about. Stumpy's an awful a.s.s, you know,--always has been. He's been head over heels in love with you ever since he met you. No, you needn't let that shock you. He's such a bashful knight he'll never tell you so. You'll have to do that part of it." He smiled with faint irony.

"But you may take my word for it, it is so. He has thought of nothing but you and your happiness from the very beginning of things. And--unlike someone else we know--he has had the decency always to put your happiness first."

He paused. Dinah's eyes had flashed up to his, green, eager, intensely alive, and behind those eyes her soul seemed to be straining like a thing in leash. "Oh, I knew he had cared for someone," she breathed, "But it couldn't--it couldn't have been me!"

"Yes," Sir Eustace said slowly. "You and none other. You wonder if it's true--how I know. He's an awful a.s.s, as I said before, one of the few supreme fools who never think of themselves. I knew that he was caught all right ages back in Switzerland, and--being a low hound of mean instincts--I set to work to cut him out."

"Oh!" murmured Dinah. "That was just what I did with Rose de Vigne."

His mouth twisted a little. "It's a funny world, Dinah," he said. "Our little game has cost us both something. I got too near the candle myself, and the scorch was pretty sharp while it lasted. Well, to get back to my story. Scott saw that I was beginning to give you indigestion, and--being as I mentioned before several sorts of a fool--he tackled me upon the subject and swore that if I didn't put an end to the game, he would put you on your guard against me, tell you in fact the precise species of rotter that I chanced to be. I was naturally annoyed by his interference.

Anyone would have been. I gave him the kicking he deserved. That was low of me, wasn't it?" as she made a quick movement of shrinking. "You won't forgive me for that, or for what came after. The very next day--to spite the little beast--I proposed to you."

Dinah's eyes were fiercely bright. "I wish I'd known!" she said.

"I wish to heaven you had, my dear," Eustace spoke with a grim hint of humour. "It would have saved us both a good deal of unnecessary trouble and humiliation. However, Scott was too big a fool to tell you. There is a martyrlike sort of cussedness about him that is several degrees worse than any pride. So he let things be, still cheating himself into the belief that the arrangement was for your happiness, till, as you are aware, it turned out so manifestly otherwise that he found himself obliged once more to come to the rescue of his lady love. But his exasperating humility was such that he never suspected the real reason for your change of mind, and when I accused him of cutting me out, he was as scandalized as only a righteous man knows how to be. You can't do much with a fellow like that, you know,--a fool who won't believe the evidence of his own senses. Besides, it was not for me to enlighten him, particularly as you didn't want him to know the real state of things just then. So I left him alone. The next day--only the next day, mind you--the silent knight opened his heart; to whom, do you think? You'll be horribly furious when I tell you."

He looked into the hot eyes with an expression half-tender in his own.

"Tell me!" breathed Dinah.

"Really? Well, prepare for a nasty shock! To Rose de Vigne!"

"To Rose!" Indignation gave place to bewilderment in Dinah's eyes.

"Even so; to Rose. She guessed the truth, and he frankly admitted she was right, but gave her to understand that as he hadn't a chance in the world, you were never to know. I am telling you the truth, Dinah. You needn't look so incredulous. She naturally considered that he was not treating you very fairly and said so. But--" he raised his shoulders slightly--"you know Scott. Mules can't compete with him when he has made up his mind to a thing. He gracefully put an end to the discussion and doubtless he has buried the whole subject in a neat little corner of his heart where no one can ever tumble over it, and resigned himself to a lonely old age. Now, Dinah, I am going to give you the soundest piece of advice I have ever given anyone. If you are wise, you will dig it up before the moss grows, bring it into the air and call it back to life. It is the greatest desire of Isabel's heart to see you two happy together.

She told me so only to-day. And I am beginning to think that I wish it too."

His look was wholly kind as he uttered the last words. He held her hand in the close grip of a friend.