King of the Castle Part 78

"No; you must hear me now," she said with a sigh, that seemed to be torn from her breast.

"Well, then, speak," he said, with a smile full of pity.

"Once more," she said, after a pause; "you must never speak to me again as you have to-night."

"Why?"

"You know, Chris, my father's wish."

"The result of a mistake. Claude, you love me."

She made an effort once more to free herself, and stood with her eyes fixed upon the ground.

"Claude," he cried pa.s.sionately, "you will tell me that."

"I cannot," she said firmly.

He let her hand fall from between his, and a curiously heavy look came slowly into his face as the jealous anger within him began to seethe.

"You cast at me your father's words," he said hurriedly.

"I am obliged to remind you of his wish."

"That you should marry this man, this Glyddyr. Claude, you cannot, you dare not tell me this."

"I do not tell you this," she said, quickly and excitedly. "No, that is impossible. I could not be his wife: I must not be yours."

"You are speaking in riddles."

"Riddles that you can easily read," she said sadly. "Chris, my life is marked out for me. I have my duties waiting. I cannot, I will not marry a man I do not love, but I will not disobey my poor dead father and listen to you. Good-bye now--I can bear no more. Some day we can meet again patiently and calmly as in the happy old times."

"Yes," he said, with the angry feeling pa.s.sing away, "I shall wait contented, for you will not marry this man--you promise me that?"

"Claude, dear; Claude."

They had neither of them given Mary a thought, and she had discreetly walked away but to return now quickly, and as they raised their eyes it was to see her close at hand, and some fifty yards away Parry Glyddyr advancing fast.

Claude saw that Glyddyr looked white and strange, but it was the rage in Chris Lisle's eyes which startled her, as Glyddyr strode up, with extended hand, ignoring the presence of her companion.

"Claude, don't leave them alone, as there'll be trouble," whispered Mary, and her cousin's words seemed to cast a lurid light upon the situation.

She did not give Glyddyr her hand, but turned to Chris and said gently--

"Good-bye. It will be better that we should not meet again--not yet."

He took the hand gravely, let his own close over it in a firm, warm clasp, and released it silently.

"Mary."

Claude turned to go, and her cousin went to her side white as ashes.

Glyddyr stood looking from one to the other, as if hesitating what to do.

"Claude, do you hear me," whispered Mary.

"Mr Glyddyr, are you going this way?" said Claude in a low deep voice.

"Yes, of course," he cried, with his face lighting up, and darting a look of triumph at his rival, who stood motionless, with one hand resting upon his rod as though it were a spear, he went on down the glen by Claude's side.

"Mr Lisle--Chris--do you not hear? Good-bye."

Chris started back as it were into life, and saw that Mary had run back and laid her hand in his.

"Ah, little woman," he said, with a gentle, pitying tone in his voice, "I was thinking, I suppose. Good-bye, Mary, and don't fall in love, dear; it's a mistake."

"Chris," she cried, with the tears in her beautiful eyes, as she gazed at the broad-shouldered st.u.r.dy fellow, "why do you talk like that?"

"Why do I talk like that?" he said bitterly. "Because I am a weak fool, I suppose. Look there."

He pointed down the glen.

"Chris!"

"There, run after them, and play propriety, little lady," he said bitterly. "Or no--they do not miss you; better stop behind, or shall I see you home?"

"Chris, dear Chris," she whispered.

"Don't talk to me," he cried. "I'm half mad. Good-bye, Mary, good-bye."

He turned sharply and hurried away up the glen, and as Mary watched, she heard his reel begin to sing as he walked on down by the stream, making casts blindly among the boulders.

"Poor fellow," she said, as she turned and walked swiftly away. "I wish I had not said a word."

She gave one more glance back and hurried after the retreating pair.

Had she looked long enough she would have seen Chris Lisle stride into the first clump of trees and throw himself down with his face buried in his arms, and there he was lying still long after darkness had come on, and the stars were peering down and glistening in the rushing stream.

Volume Three, Chapter VII.

GLYDDYR ENDORSES A NOTE.

"There, I'm off back to London town to keep a certain party quiet. You are going on all right here. You are bound to win, but don't be rash-- play her very carefully."

Glyddyr nodded.

"And now take my advice; go and see a doctor--that man--what's his name?

Get him to set you up, dear boy. There: good-bye. Bless you, my son.

It's perhaps a million. Don't play with it."

"Haven't got it to play with."