The Judgement Of Love Part 11

He put his hand on her shoulder as he said: "I thought at luncheon what a charming hostess you made at Worfield House. I am certain my nephews were thinking the same thing. "

"You must remember," Astara said lightly, "that you "made an exceptionally delightful host. "

She knew as she walked away that he was amused at the adroit way she had turned his words.

When she reached her bed-room she quickly changed her gown from the elaborate one she had worn at luncheon and slipping down one of the side-staircases let herself out through a door which opened into the garden.

Because she was in a hurry to reach Vulcan she ran through the shrubberies which bordered the wood and soon found the path through the trees.

She was breathless by the time she reached Little Milden and only when she was actually in the village did she move more sedately and hope that her heart would cease beating so frantically.

The door of the Mill was open as she expected and she walked in to hear Vulcan's voice say sharply before he could see her: "Is that you, Aphrodite? I thought you had forgotten your promise."

"I always keep my promises," she answered as she entered the big room.

He turned round from the easel to look at her and she suddenly became conscious that from her haste her hair was curling in small tendrils around her forehead and she was certain the colour was vivid in her cheeks.

She looked at him and looked away, then without waiting for instructions she walked to the throne and picked up the sheaf of wheat which was lying where she had left it.

She held it in her arms and a.s.sumed the pose that he wanted and looked up as if to the light.

He did not move for a moment, but she knew his eyes were on her. Then he said: "Perfect! I see now where I have gone wrong."

He painted quickly and after some moments he said: "Why did you have to run?"

"I ... thought you would be waiting for me."

"I was, but I have a fancy you have come quite a long way."

She did not answer and he smiled as he said : "Still mysterious? Still intent on keeping me guessing?"

"Why not? Explanations are boring and often ... disappointing "

"Who told you that?" he questioned in an amused voice. "Why should it not be my own observation ?"

"Because you do not look as if you have ever been disappointed by anything in life."

"And how should one look if one was disappointed?"

"Cynical but you are too young for that! Blase you are too ignorant. No where youth scores every time is that you have hope and the imagination to be quite sure you will always get what you want."

"And what do I want?" Astara enquired.

"Love of course ! Women never want anything else."

"And men?"

"Men have so many other things they need."

"Like money?" Astara asked.

"Money is unimportant in itself," Vulcan replied. "But it can aid ambition and achievement, and one can waste a whole lot of time finding how to pay for something one needs urgently."

"Is that what you have to do?"

"Sometimes I had to in the past."

"And now?"

"I have, thank G.o.d, everything I need from a financial point of view, but money is not my main objective."

"Of course not! You want your book and your pictures to be a success."

"They will be!"

"How can you be sure that people will understand?"

"People? Who concerns himself with people?" he asked. "I am speaking of the few the very few who will under-stand and will know what I am trying to say. "

"That is what I wanted to ask you ... what are you trying to say?"

He did not reply and she asked: "You have not yet told me what your book is about except that it concerns the mystery of Eleusis. "

"That is not the only mystery in the world."

"Are you saying you are writing a book of mysteries?" "Briefly yes!"

"How exciting! What other ones do you include?"

"Mecca."

Astara was so surprised that she turned her face to look at him.

"Are you telling me that you have been as a pilgrim to Mecca?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes!"

"I can hardly believe it!"

She had heard her father talk of the pilgrimage that Moslems made to what to them was the secret city of Islam, the holy of holies, which was eight days' march across the torrid Arabian desert.

She also knew that no infidel could penetrate the city and live.

Her father had told Astara that many attempts had been made by explorers and Christians to reach the Holy City, but they had never returned to tell what they had seen and discovered.

"H .. how ... did you get there ?" Astara asked now.

"It was not a particularly pleasant journey," Vulcan answered lightly, "but you see before you a Master of Sufi, one of the Faithful, and ent.i.tled to the green turban!"

Astara almost gasped out that she wished she could tell her father about it. Then she questioned: And you have painted a picture of it?" "Yes, but it does not really do it credit. The mysteries, the secrecy and the faith that vibrate around the Ka'ba, the sacred black shrine, are indescribable !"

Astara gave a little sigh.

"I wish I could see it!"

"That is definitely something you will never do, " Vulcan smiled, "and as a matter of fact I have almost decided not to include that mystery in my book or exhibit the picture."

"Why not a"

"Because I might want to go back I hope to visit many Moslem countries, and if it was known that I had deceived them not only should I be restricted but my life would be forfeit. "

Mara knew that restriction was a word that mattered to him.

"It seems a pity to waste the experience," she said. "At the same time I think I understand."

"That I do not wish to be restricted?

"Yes?"

"I doubt it, " he said. "Women never understand such things. They want to tie a man down, fetter him, and keep him in a cage."

"Not all women," Astara said, thinking of her mother.

"All women!" Vulcan said firmly. "And if a prodigy exists who does not feel like that, I have not met her."

He looked at Astara as he spoke. Then with a note of amus.e.m.e.nt in his voice he said: "Of course, if she was a G.o.ddess like Aphrodite she might be different."

Astara did not know why, but his words depressed her.

She could almost feel him moving away from her, disappearing into the desert disguised as a Moslem, wearing the green turban to which he was ent.i.tled, and she would never see him again.

"What are you thinking?" Vulcan asked suddenly.

"Of you crossing the desert," Astara answered truthfully, "under a sky terrible in its stainless beauty and the splendours of a pitiless blinding glare."

"So they have a Library on Olympus!" Vulcan remarked. He painted for some minutes in silence. Then Astara asked: "What other mysteries are there in your book?"

"The dance of the Dervishes."

"You ... have seen ... that?"

"It was fantastic, horrible, and yet mesmeric."

"I wish I could have been with you."

"It was not a sight for a woman or for anyone with a queazy stomach."

"May I see the picture?"

"Perhaps. You are making me nervous with your pose of understanding. I do not like being understood."

"I am sorry. I will look vacant and idiotic. Perhaps that will please you."

Astara spoke scathingly and now he put down his brush and turned round to look at her.

"d.a.m.n you!" he said. "I lay awake last night thinking about you. You are disturbing as well as intriguing me, and I do not like it!"

"The solution is quite simple."

"If you are going to say that you will stay away and not return, I think I shall strike you !"

"Because I want you here. You know I want you here! But you are too much for one man's peace of mind!"

Astara could hear her heart beating and she knew that what he was saying and the tone in which he said it made her feel breathless.

"You are very difficult to please, Mr Worfield," she said at length.

"Not really," he answered. "It is only that I am unused to perfection and I am finding it hard to adjust myself to it."

He was still looking at her as he said as if to himself: "There must be a flaw somewhere !"

His eyes swept over her from the top of her head to her feet. Then he turned back to his easel.

"Doubtless," he said in a mocking voice, "the answer is that you have a husband and six children hidden away somewhere."

"And I can still manage to look like Persephone?" He laughed.

"I will concede you that point. But do not forget she must have had some erotic experiences with Pluto in Hades."

"I believe that she was clever enough to keep him at arms length," Astara answered, "and to tell him she would consider what he suggested next winter ... then the next, then the next... "

"Is that what you would do?"

It was, Astara thought with amus.e.m.e.nt, exactly what she was doing - keeping William and Lionel at arms' length.

"You will have to marry sooner or later," Vulcan said and the statement made her start.

"Why should you say that?"

"Because I feel that is what you are considering. Women have to marry. There is no other way open for them."

"You did not think so where ... Moll was concerned."

"You are rather different from Moll, and I cannot imagine that the young man who is asking you to marry him is a traveller in fancy goods!"

"No ... he is not ... that."