The Moving Finger Part 32

"I did not bid you come," Saton answered. "This is my spot, and my hour. It was you who intruded."

"The fact that this is my property----" Rochester began, gently.

"Is of no consequence," Saton answered. "You may buy the earth upon which we stand, but you cannot buy the person whose feet shall press it, or the thoughts that rise up from it, or the words that are breathed from it, or the hopes and pa.s.sions which go trembling from it to the skies. Go away and jog homeward behind your fat pony, but----"

"Well, sir?" Rochester asked, turning suddenly.

Saton's eyes did not meet his. They were fixed upon Pauline's, and Pauline was as white as death.

"Take her, too, if you will," Saton said slowly. "Take her, too, if she will go."

"I am going this instant," Pauline cried, with a sudden nervous pa.s.sion in her tone. "Come, Henry, come away. I hate this place. Come away quickly."

Rochester caught her hand. It was cold as a stone. She was pale, and she commenced to tremble.

"Take her," Saton said, "if she will go. Take her, because you are strong and she is weak. Lead her by the arm, guide her as you will, only be sure that you leave nothing with me."

He sat down upon the rock, and with folded arms looked away from them--even as though they had not existed--across to the world of shadows and vague places. Rochester pa.s.sed his arm through Pauline's, and led her down the hill. Her hands were cold. She seemed to lift her feet as though they had been of lead. She did not look at him. Always she looked ahead. She moved slowly and heavily. When he spoke, her lips answered him languidly. Rochester felt an intense and pa.s.sionate anger burning in his veins. The vague disquiet of an hour ago had settled down into something definite. She was his no longer! Something had come between them! Even though he might take her into his arms, might hold her there, and dare anyone in the world to take her from him, it was her body only, the shadow of herself. Something--some part of her seemed to have flitted away. He asked himself with a sudden cold horror, whether indeed it had remained by the side of that silent figure, blotted out now from sight, who sat upon the rocks while the darkness fell about him!

CHAPTER XXIV

LOIS IS OBEDIENT

Lois and her companion stopped on the summit of the hill to look at the rolling background of woods, brilliant still with their autumn coloring. The west wind had blown her hair into disorder, but it had blown also the color back into her cheeks. Her eyes were bright, and her laughter infectious. Her companion stooped down and pa.s.sed his arm through hers, looking into her face admiringly.

"Lois," he said, "this is the first day I have seen you like your old self. I can't tell you how glad I am."

She smiled.

"I wasn't aware, Maurice," she said, "that I have been very different.

I have had headaches now and then, lately. Fancy having a headache an afternoon like this!" she added, throwing back her head once more, and breathing in the fresh, invigorating air.

"You ought to have seen a doctor," her companion declared. "I told Lady Mary so the other day."

"Rubbish!" Lois exclaimed, lightly.

"Nothing of the sort," Captain Vandermere replied. "I was beginning to worry about you. I almost fancied----"

"Well?"

"It almost seemed," he continued, a little awkwardly, "as though you had something on your mind. You seemed so queer every now and then, little girl," he added, "I do hope that if there was anything bothering you, you'd tell me all about it. We're old pals, you know."

She laughed--not quite naturally.

"My dear Maurice," she said, "of course there has been nothing of that sort the matter with me! What could I have on my mind?"

"No love affairs, eh?" he asked, stroking his fair moustache.

She shook her head thoughtfully.

"No!" she said. "No love affairs."

He tightened his grasp upon her arm. He had an idea that he was being very diplomatic indeed. And Lady Mary had begged him to find out whatever was the matter with poor dear Lois!

"Well," he said, "I am glad to hear it. To tell you the truth, I have been very jealous lately."

"You jealous!" she exclaimed, mockingly.

"Fact, I a.s.sure you," he answered.

"Captain Maurice Vandermere jealous!" she repeated, looking up at him with dancing eyes--"absolutely the most popular bachelor in London!

And jealous of me, too!"

"Is that so very wonderful, Lois?" he asked. "We have been pretty good friends, you know."

She felt his hand upon her arm, and she looked away.

"Yes," she said, "we have been friends, only we haven't seen much of one another the last month or so, have we?"

"It hasn't been my fault," he declared. "I really couldn't get leave before, although I tried hard. I shouldn't have been here now, to tell you the truth, Lois," he went on, "but Lady Mary's been frightening me a bit."

"About me?" Lois asked.

"About you," he a.s.sented.

"What has she been saying?"

"Well, nothing definite," Captain Vandermere answered, "but of course you know she's an awful good pal of mine, and she did write me a line or two about you. It seems there's some young fellow been about down here whom she isn't very stuck on, and she seemed to be afraid----"

"Well, go on," Lois said calmly.

"Well, that he was making the running with you a bit," Captain Vandermere declared, feeling that he was getting into rather deeper waters. "Of course, I don't know anything about him, and I don't want to say anything against anybody who is a friend of yours, but from all that I have heard he didn't seem to me to be the sort of man I fancied for my little friend Lois to get--well, fond of."

"So you decided to come down yourself," Lois continued.

"I decided to come down and say something which I ought to have said some time ago," Captain Vandermere continued, "only you see you are really only a child, and you've got a lot more money than I have, and you are not of age yet, so I thought I'd let it be for a bit. But you know I'm fond of you, Lois."

"Are you?" she asked, artlessly.

"You must know that," he continued, bending over her. "I wonder----"

"Are you aware that we are standing on the top of a hill," Lois said, "and that everybody for a good many miles round has a perfectly clear view of us?"

"I don't care where we are," he declared. "I have got to go on now.