The Price of Things Part 25

But he drew himself away from her and was silent; he could not make lying protestations of not understanding her, so there only remained one course for him to follow--he must go, and the brutality of such action made him fierce with pain.

She burst into pa.s.sionate sobs and would have fallen to the ground. He raised her in his arms and laid her on the sofa near, and then fear seized him. What if this excitement and emotion should make her really ill--?

He knelt down beside her and stroked her hair. But she only sobbed the more.

"How hideously cruel are men. Why can't you tell me what I ask you? You dare not even pretend that you do not understand!"

He knew that his silence was an admission, he was torn with distress.

"Darling," he cried at last in torment, "for G.o.d's sake, let me go."

"Denzil--" and then her tears stopped suddenly, and the great drops glistened on her white cheeks. Weeping had not disfigured her--she looked but as a suffering child.

"Denzil--if you knew everything, you could not possibly leave me--you don't know what has happened--But you must, you will have to since--soon--"

He bowed his head and placed her two hands over his face with a despairing movement.

"Hush--I implore you--say nothing. I do know, but I love you--I must go."

At that she gave a glad cry and drew him close to her.

"You shall not now! I do not care for conventions any more, or for laws, or for anything! I am a savage--you are mine! John must know that you are mine! The family is all that matters to him, I am only an instrument, a medium for its continuance--but Denzil, you and I are young and loving and living. It is you I desire, and now I know that I belong to you. You are the man and I am the woman--and the child will be our child!"

Her spirit had arisen at last and broken all chains. She was transfigured, transformed, translated. No one knowing the gentle Amaryllis could have recognised her in this fierce, primitive creature claiming her mate!

Furious, answering pa.s.sion surged through Denzil; it was the supreme moment when all artificial restrictions of civilisation were swept away.

Nature had come to her own. All her forces were working for these two of her children brought near by a turn of fate. He strained her in his arms wildly--he kissed her lips, and ears, and eyes.

"Mine, mine," he cried, and then "Sweetheart!"

And for some seconds which seemed an eternity of bliss they forgot all but the joy of love.

But presently reality fell upon Denzil and he almost groaned.

"I must leave you, precious dear one--even so--I gave my word of honour to John that I would never take advantage of the situation. Fate has done this thing by bringing us together; it has overwhelmed us. I do not feel that we are greatly to blame, but that does not release me from my promise. It is all a frightful price that we must pay for pride in the Family. Darling, help me to have courage to go."

"I will not--It is shameful cruelty," and she clung to him, "that we must be parted now I am yours really--not John's at all. Everything in my heart and being cries out to you--you are the reality of my dream lover, your image has been growing in my vision for months. I love you, Denzil, and it is your right to stay with me now and take care of me, and it is my right to tell you of my thoughts about the--child--Ah! if you knew what it means to me, the joy, the wonder, the delight! I cannot keep it all to myself any longer. I am starving! I am frozen! I want to tell it all to my Beloved!"

He held her to him again--and she poured forth the tenderest holy things, and he listened enraptured and forgot time and place.

"Denzil," she whispered at last, from the shelter of his arms. "I have felt so strange--exalted, ever since--and now I shall have this ever present thought of you and love women in my existence--But how is it going to be in the years which are coming? How can I go on pretending to John?--I cannot--I shall blurt out the truth--For me there is only you--not just the you of these last days since we saw each other with our eyes--but the you that I had dreamed about and fashioned as my lover--my delight--Can I whisper to John all my joy and tenderness as I watch the growing up of my little one? No! the thing is monstrous, grotesque--I will not face the pain of it all. John gave you to me--he must have done so--it was some compact between you both for the family, and if I did not love you I should hate you now, and want to kill myself. But I love you, I love you, I love you!" and she fiercely clasped her arms once more about his neck. "You must take the consequences of your action. I did not ask to have this complication in my life. John forced it upon me for his own aims, but I have to be reckoned with, and I want my lover, I claim my mate." Her cheeks were flaming and her eyes flashed.

"And your lover wants you," and Denzil wildly returned her fond caress, "but the choice is not left to me, darling, even if you were my wife, not John's. You have forgotten the war--I must go out and fight."

All the warmth and pa.s.sion died out of her, and she lay back on the pillows of the sofa for a moment and closed her eyes. She had indeed forgotten that ghastly colossus in her absorption in their own two selves.

Yes--he must go out and fight--and John would go too--and they might both be killed like all those gallant partners of the season and her cousin, and those who had fallen at Mons and the battle of the Marne.

No--she must not be so paltry as to think of personal things, even love.

She must rise above all selfishness, and not make it harder for her man.

Her little face grew resigned and sanctified, and Denzil watching her with burning, longing eyes, waited for her to speak.

"It is true--for the moment nothing but you and my great desire for you was in my mind. But you are right, Denzil; of course, I cannot keep you.

Only I am glad that just this once we have tasted a brief moment of happiness, and--Denzil, I believe our souls belong to each other, even if we do not meet again on earth."

And when at last they had parted, and Amaryllis, listening, heard the motor go, she rose from the sofa and went out through the window to the lawn, and so to the church again, and there lay on the steps of the young knight's tomb, sobbing and praying until darkness enveloped the land.

CHAPTER XIII

A day or two before Denzil sailed for France he dined with Verisschenzko.

The intense preoccupation of the last war preparations had left him very little time for grieving. He was unhappy when he thought of Amaryllis, but he was a man, and another primitive instinct was in action in him--the zest of going out to fight!

Verisschenzko was depressed, his country was not yet giving him the opportunity to fulfil his hopes, and he fretted that he must direct things from so far.

They sat in a quiet corner of the Berkeley and talked in a desultory fashion all through the _hors d'ouvres_ and the soup.

"I am sick of things, Denzil," Verisschenzko said at last. "I feel inclined to end it all sometimes."

"And belie the whole meaning of your whole beliefs. Don't be a fool, Stepan. I always have told you that there is one grain of suicide in the composition of every Russian. Now it has become active with you. Have another gla.s.s of champagne, old boy, and then you'll talk sense again.

It is sickening to be killed, or maimed, or any beastly thing if it comes along with duty, but to court it is madness pure and simple. It's just rot."

"I'm with you," and he called the waiter and ordered a fine champagne, while he smiled, showing his strong, square teeth.

"They don't have decent vodka--but the brandy will do the trick," and in an instant his mood changed even before the cognac had come.

"It is the lingering trace of some other life of folly, when I talk like that--I know it, Denzil. It is the harking back to long months of gloom and darkness and snow and the howling of wolves and the fear of the knout. This is not my first Russian life, you know!"

"Probably not; but you've had some more balanced intervening ones, or I should have found you dead with veronal, or some other filthy thing before this, with your highly strung nerves! I am not really alarmed about you though, Stepan--you are fundamentally sane."

"I am glad you think that--very few English understand us--"

"Because you don't understand yourselves. You seem to have every quality and fault crammed into your skins with no discrimination as to how to sort them. You are not self-conscious like we are and afraid of looking like fools--so whatever is uppermost bursts out. If one of us had half your brains he would never have said an idiot thing completely contrary to his whole natural bent like that, just because he felt down on his luck for the moment."

Verisschenzko laughed outright.

"Go ahead, Denzil--let off steam! I'm done in!"

"Well, don't be such a d.a.m.ned fool again!"

"I won't--how is my Lady Amaryllis?"

Denzil looked at him keenly.

"Why do you ask?"