Wings of the Wind Part 39

She knew then that I was there and, without turning, reached back one hand to me. Impulsively I took it, raised it to my lips, but afraid to hold it longer I stepped aside as if awaiting her commands. When I had done that she looked over her shoulder, gave a little sigh, and said sweetly:

"Chancellor, I wish you'd convince me that our people are safe, and then help me settle a grave question of state!"

"I think they'll be coming to-day, and----"

"Oh, I hope so!" she clasped her hands.

"As for the state question," I continued, "I'll settle it quickly, if you'll let me."

"No, I'm afraid you can't! No, Chancellor," she gave a little laugh, "you can't be trusted to settle that, at all!" Then firmly, almost severely, putting back into its place a wave of hair that had been coquetting with the breeze, she asked: "Is the fire ready?"

"Ready to light," I answered. "I came to find you."

"Then let's go, for it isn't good to ponder over questions of state before breakfast."

"What is it?" I asked, as we turned back. "Why won't you trust me to settle it?"

Another laugh, more full of pathos, was my answer; nor would she speak again--because of some mischief in her mind, I believed--until, preparing the ambrosial corncakes, she rather abruptly exclaimed:

"I wonder if you deserve any breakfast this morning?"

"Why?" I cried, in feigned alarm.

"Because of your impoliteness."

"My impoliteness was doubtless the need of breakfast. But when was I impolite? I don't remember, honest!"

"Of course, you don't; how could you," she went on rather indifferently.

"Were you not such a capable Chancellor I might be more offended. I am tryingly stupid at times, but to be in the very middle of a sentence and discover that the man I'm talking to is fast asleep, is humiliating, to say the least."

Did she think there was a chance of putting over that atrocious yarn on me--of bluffing me into an admission that I had been the first to fall asleep?

"You may be right," I said, with the utmost gravity, "but I did it only in justice to you. You were talking, true enough, but in _your_ sleep; saying things that--well, no gentleman could have remained awake, in the circ.u.mstances."

"I didn't," she cried, darting me a look of uncertainty. "Echochee says I never do!"

"Echochee wasn't here last night," I casually replied, poking the coals of her fire closer. "I hope you understand that I didn't listen intentionally; for, of course, you'd never have told me all those things----"

"Stop it," she commanded; and, when I had stopped, there was an ominous silence.

But I would not look at her and indifferently pretended to be busy. I confess that I was deriving a purely masculine enjoyment out of this, and intended to push my counter bluff so vigorously that she would be driven to admit her own. Therefore, after I thought the silence had become sufficiently impressive, I yielded to an impulse that many men find irresistible--I made an egregious a.s.s of myself.

"Lots of people," said I, sliding out upon thin ice with the braggadocio of him who rocks the boat, "chatter like magpies when dozing in an uncomfortable position. Police recognize this, and often arrange a suspect's cell so he'll have to sleep sitting up, then they listen and take down his inmost thoughts. That's the way you chattered last night."

"Chattered!" she caught her breath.

"Yes; just rippled along, you know, telling everything you've been thinking these last couple of days. Some of it was rather interesting.

Shall I poke up the fire again?"

"Rather interesting!" She sprang around and faced me with blazing eyes, the picture of embarra.s.sment and fury. "You consider the things I've been thinking the last couple of days 'rather interesting!' Oh," she cried, dashing the pan of corn meal batter to the ground, "you're d.a.m.nable--I hate you!" There was a whirl of a skirt, the twinkle of a little booted foot, and, by Jove, she had gone flying off like the wind; while I, feeling about the size of a june-bug, stood first on one leg and then the other, wondering what the devil she had been thinking these last couple of days.

Now, when a fellow has made a blatant a.s.s of himself, I hold that the quickest road to salvation is "own up and shut up." If he's forgiven, life may flow on as formerly. If he isn't, he has recourse to the pose of having been grossly misunderstood, and eventually work himself into quite a creditable reproduction of a martyred n.o.bleman. If he's good at that kind of thing, a girl will grow sorry and forgive him in spite of herself. I got this from Tommy, one day, and Tommy knows a lot about women--really, an awful lot.

But the most detestable part of my present muddle was that I had hurt her--I, who would have bartered my life to shield her from hurts!

Feeling thoroughly contrite I went quickly in pursuit, looking ahead and on both sides for a glimpse of the dress that meant the world to me.

Regardless of boundaries, regardless of everything but to implore an instant forgiveness at whatever cost, I rushed impetuously on, calling her name.

Then I came up with her at the side of the bubbling spring. She was lying p.r.o.ne upon the bank, her face buried in her arms that were crossed beneath it. And, having found her, I could not advance. Something about the lovely grace of her body held me enthralled. Furthermore, I had no right to be here; I was an interloper, a prowler! There were but two things to do, and do at once, to wit, make myself humble and scarce.

"Doloria," I said.

She did not move, perhaps she had not heard, so I kneeled and took one of her hands, whereupon she sprang to her feet looking at me strangely, wildly.

"You've no right here," she cried. "You've broken faith!"

"No, please no," I said quickly. "I'm too desperate to care where I am when you're angry! Since you called me d.a.m.nable--said you hated me--the world's turned black; so I'm not deliberately trespa.s.sing--only lost, because you've taken away your smile!"

"_You_ took it away," she retorted. "You'd murder any girl's smile by such--brutality!"

"Brutality!" I gasped.

"Truthfulness," she stamped her foot.

"But I wasn't truthful," I hurried to tell her. "I lied like the devil to call your bluff--wanted to make you own up because--well, you'd lied a little, too! I never dreamed my joke would hurt you. Great G.o.d," I now cried pa.s.sionately, "to think of hurting you who are my life and breath and----" I caught myself, stopping short and looking at her; then slowly adding: "You didn't say a word in your sleep, I swear it. It was beautiful of you to trust me that way, and--and if you'll rescue our breakfast I'll never be such an idiot again."

She had partly turned away at my impa.s.sioned outburst, but the a.s.surance I gave that Somnus had been dumb brought a hint of the fascinating curve to her lips. Yet her eyes still expressed doubt, and I was growing desperate enough even to humor her incredulity, hoping thereby to discover another road to favor, when she asked:

"You're not just saying that?"

"On my honor it's true--every word! I'm sorry, Princess!"

Again she turned away her face, looking across the spring and murmuring, as though to someone there:

"It's because he's hungry, I suppose,"--then whirled and held out both hands to me, in that sweet way of hers. "It's I who am cruel, Chancellor. Come, poor man, I'll feed you; you look as glum as Pharaoh--was Pharaoh glum? I'll beat you to the kitchen!" And she bounded away, almost before the challenge had been given.

Straight she sped with astonishing swiftness, skimming over fallen logs, darting this way and that through festoons of vines, with the grace of a frightened doe. In freedom of motion she was as some wild thing of forest birth, suggesting the spirits of the wind, the dappled sunlight, the dancing waters; yet never lacking an ineffable refinement that added both charm and mystery.

Each of us was breathing fast when, shoulder to shoulder, we reached the fire, she claiming the race without the slightest show of embarra.s.sment.

"But I was holding back," I said, finding combativeness a very fair outlet to pursue, and adding: "You had the start, too!"

"In a race any one has the start who's able to get it," she a.s.serted.

"Besides, I set the pace, and all you had to do was follow. I slowed up toward the end, anyway."

The impertinence of it!

"You slowed up because you had to! And I don't believe you were angry a while ago, either!"