The Money Moon Part 42

"Come!" said she, speaking now in a vastly different tone, "it must be getting very late--"

"Yes, I s'pecks it'll soon be nine o'clock, now!" he nodded.

"Then you ought to be in bed, fast asleep instead of talking such--nonsense, out here. So--come along--at once, sir!"

"But, can't I stay up--jest a little while? You see--"

"No!"

"You see, it's such a--magnif'cent night! It feels as though--things might happen!"

"Don't be so silly!"

"Well, but it does, you know."

"What do you mean--what things?"

"Well, it feels--gnomy, to me. I s'pecks there's lots of elves about--hidden in the shadows, you know, an' peeping at us."

"There aren't any elves,--or gnomes," said Anthea petulantly, for she was still furiously angry with herself.

"But my Uncle Porges told me--"

"Oh!" cried Anthea, stamping her foot suddenly, "can't you talk of anyone, or anything but--him? I'm tired to death of him and his very name!"

"But I thought you liked him--an awful lot, an'--"

"Well, I don't!"

"But, you said--"

"Never mind what I said! It's time you were in bed asleep,--so come along--at once, sir!"

So they went on through the orchard together, very silently, for Small Porges was inclined to be indignant, but much more inclined to be hurt.

Thus, they had not gone so very far, when he spoke, in a voice that he would have described as--quivery.

"Don't you think that you're--just the teeniest bit--cruel to me, Auntie Anthea?" he enquired wistfully, "after I prayed an' prayed till I found a fortune for you!--don't you, please?" Surely Anthea was a creature of moods, to-night, for, even while he spoke, she stopped, and turned, and fell on her knees, and caught him in her arms, kissing him many times:

"Yes,--yes, dear, I'm hateful to you,--horrid to you! But I don't mean to be. There!--forgive me!"

"Oh!--it's all right again, now, Auntie Anthea, thank you. I only thought you were jest a bit--hard, 'cause it is such a--magnif'cent night, isn't it?"

"Yes dear; and perhaps there are gnomes, and pixies about. Anyhow, we can pretend there are, if you like, as we used to--"

"Oh will you? that would be fine! Then, please, may I go with you--as far as the brook? We'll wander, you know,--I've never wandered with you in the moonlight,--an' I do love to hear the brook talking to itself,--so--will you wander--jest this once?"

"Well," said Anthea, hesitating, "it's very late!--"

"Nearly nine o 'clock, yes! But Oh!--please don't forget that I found a fortune for you--"

"Very well," she smiled, "just this once."

Now as they went together, hand in hand through the moonlight, Small Porges talked very fast, and very much at random, while his eyes, bright, and eager, glanced expectantly towards every patch of shadow,--doubtless in search of gnomes, and pixies.

But Anthea saw nothing of this, heard nothing of the suppressed excitement in his voice, for she was thinking that by now, Mr. Ca.s.silis had read her letter,--that he might, even then, be on his way to Dapplemere. She even fancied, once or twice, that she could hear the gallop of his horse's hoofs. And, when he came, he would want to--kiss her!

"Why do you shiver so, Auntie Anthea, are you cold?"

"No, dear."

"Well, then, why are you so quiet to me,--I've asked you a question--three times."

"Have you dear? I--I was thinking; what was the question?"

"I was asking you if you would be awful frightened s'posing we did find a pixie--or a gnome, in the shadows; an' would you be so very awfully frightened if a gnome--a great, big one, you know,--came jumping out an'--ran off with you,--should you?"

"No!" said Anthea, with another shiver, "No, dear,--I think I should be--rather glad of it!"

"Should you, Auntie? I'm--so awful glad you wouldn't be frightened. A course, I don't s'pose there are gnomes--I mean great, big ones,--really, you know,--but there might be, on a magnif'cent night, like this. If you shiver again Auntie you'll have to take my coat!"

"I thought I heard a horse galloping--hush!"

They had reached the stile, by now, the stile with the crooked, lurking nail, and she leaned there, a while, to listen. "I'm sure I heard something,--away there--on the road!"

"I don't!" said Small Porges, stoutly,--"so take my hand, please, an'

let me 'sist you over the stile."

So they crossed the stile, and, presently, came to the brook that was the most impertinent brook in the world. And here, upon the little rustic bridge, they stopped to look down at the sparkle of the water, and to listen to its merry voice.

Yes, indeed to-night it was as impertinent as ever, laughing, and chuckling to itself among the hollows, and whispering scandalously in the shadows. It seemed to Anthea that it was laughing at her,--mocking, and taunting her with--the future. And now, amid the laughter, were sobs, and tearful murmurs, and now, again, it seemed to be the prophetic voice of old Nannie:

"'By force ye shall be wooed and by force ye shall be wed, and there is no man strong enough to do it, but him as bears the Tiger Mark upon him!'"

The "Tiger Mark!" Alas! how very far from the truth were poor, old Nannie's dreams, after all, the dreams which Anthea had very nearly believed in--once or twice. How foolish it had all been! And yet even now--

Anthea had been leaning over the gurgling waters while all this pa.s.sed through her mind, but now,--she started at the sound of a heavy foot-fall on the planking of the bridge, behind her, and--in that same instant, she was encircled by a powerful arm, caught up in a strong embrace,--swung from her feet, and borne away through the shadows of the little copse.

It was very dark in the wood, but she knew, instinctively, whose arms these were that held her so close, and carried her so easily--away through the shadows of the wood,--away from the haunting, hopeless dread of the future from which there had seemed no chance, or hope of escape.

And, knowing all this, she made no struggle, and uttered no word. And now the trees thinned out, and, from under her lashes she saw the face above her; the thick, black brows drawn together,--the close set of the lips,--the grim prominence of the strong, square chin.

And now, they were in the road; and now he had lifted her into an automobile, had sprung in beside her, and--they were off, gliding swift, and ever swifter, under the shadows of the trees.

And still neither spoke, nor looked at each other; only she leaned away from him, against the cushions, while he kept his frowning eyes fixed upon the road a-head; and ever the great car flew onward faster, and faster; yet not so fast as the beating of her heart, wherein shame, and anger, and fear, and--another feeling strove and fought for mastery.

But at last, finding him so silent, and impa.s.sive, she must needs steal a look at him, beneath her lashes.

He wore no hat, and as she looked upon him,--with his yellow hair, his length of limb, and his ma.s.sive shoulders, he might have been some fierce Viking, and she, his captive, taken by strength of arm--borne away by force.--By force!