The Way of an Eagle Part 51

"No, dear," said Olga. "I never somehow thought you would, and I didn't want you to either."

"Why not?" Muriel looked up in some surprise. "I thought you liked him."

"Oh, yes, of course I do," said Olga. "But he isn't half the man Nick is, even though he is a V.C. Oh, Muriel, I wish,--I do wish--you would marry Nick. Perhaps you will now."

But at that Muriel cried out sharply and sprang to her feet, almost thrusting Olga from her.

"No, never!" she exclaimed, "Never,--never,--never!" Then, seeing Olga's hurt face, "Oh, forgive me, dear! I didn't mean to be unkind. But please don't ever dream of such a thing again. It--it's impossible--quite. Ah, there is the gong for tea. Let us go down."

They went down hand in hand. But Olga was very quiet for the rest of the evening; and she did not cling to Muriel as usual when she said good-night.

CHAPTER XLII

THE HARDEST FIGHT OF ALL

It was growing late on that same evening when to Daisy, packing in her room with feverish haste, a message was brought that Captain Ratcliffe was waiting, and desired to see her.

Her first impulse was to excuse herself from the interview, for she and Nick had never stood upon ceremony; but a very brief consideration decided her to see him. Since he had come at an unusual hour, it seemed probable that he had some special object in view, and if that were so, she would find it hard to turn him from his purpose. But she resolved to make the interview as brief as possible. She had no place for Nick in her life just then.

She entered the little parlour with a certain impetuosity, that was not wholly spontaneous. "My dear Nick," she said, as she did so, "I can give you exactly five minutes, not one second more, for I am frightfully busy packing up my things to leave to-morrow."

He came swiftly to meet her, so swiftly that she was for the moment deceived, and fancied that he was about to greet her with his customary bantering gallantry. But he did not lift her fingers to his lips after his usual gay fas.h.i.+on. He only held her proffered hand very tightly for several seconds without verbal greeting of any sort.

Suddenly he began to speak, and as he did so she seemed to see a hundred wrinkles spring into being on his yellow face. "I have something to say to you, Mrs. Musgrave," he said. "And it's something so particularly beastly that I funk saying it. We have always been such pals, you and I, and that makes it all the harder."

He broke off, his shrewd glance flas.h.i.+ng over her, keen and elusive as a rapier. Daisy faced him quite fully and fearlessly. The possibility of a conflict in this quarter had occurred to her before. She would not s.h.i.+rk it, but she was determined that it should be as brief as possible.

"Being pals doesn't ent.i.tle you to go trespa.s.sing, Nick," she said.

"I know that," said Nick, speaking very rapidly. "None better. But I am not thinking of you only, though I hate to make you angry. Mrs.

Musgrave--Daisy--I want to ask you, and you can't refuse to answer.

What are you doing? What are you going to do?"

"I don't know what you mean," she said, speaking coldly. "And anyhow I can't stop to listen to you. I haven't time. I think you had better go."

"You must listen," Nick said. She caught the grim note of determination in his voice, and was aware of the whole force of his personality flung suddenly against her. "Daisy," he said, "you are to look upon me as Will's representative. I am the nearest friend he has.

Have you thought of him at all lately, stewing in those h.e.l.lish Plains for your sake? He's such a faithful chap, you know. Can't you go back to him soon? Isn't it--forgive me--isn't it a bit shabby to play this sort of game when there's a fellow like that waiting for you and fretting his very heart out because you don't go?"

He stopped--his lips twitching with the vigour of his appeal. And Daisy realised that he would have to be told the simple truth. He would not be satisfied with less.

Very pale but quite calm, she braced herself to tell him. "I am afraid you are pleading a lost cause," she said, her words quiet and very distinct. "I am never going back to him."

"Never!" Nick moved sharply drawing close to her. "Never?" he said again; then with abrupt vehemence, "Daisy, you don't mean that! You didn't say it!"

She drew back slightly from him, but her answer was perfectly steady, rigidly determined. "I have said it, Nick. And I meant it. You had better go. You will do no good by staying to argue. I know all that you can possibly say, and it makes no difference to me. I have chosen."

"What have you chosen?" he demanded.

For an instant she hesitated. There was something almost fierce in his manner, something she had never encountered before, something that in spite of her utmost effort made her feel curiously uneasy, even apprehensive. She had always known that there was a certain uncanny strength about Nick, but to feel the whole weight of it directed against her was a new experience.

"What have you chosen?" he repeated relentlessly.

And reluctantly, more than half against her will, she told him. "I am going to the man I love."

She was prepared for some violent outburst upon her words, but none came. Nick heard her in silence, standing straight before her, watching her, she felt, with an almost brutal intentness, though his eyes never for an instant met her own.

"Then," he said suddenly at length, and quick though they were, it seemed to her that the words fell with something of the awful precision of a death-sentence, "G.o.d help you both; for you are going to destroy him and yourself too."

Daisy made a sharp gesture; it was almost one of shrinking. And at once he turned from her and fell to pacing the little room, up and down, up and down incessantly, like an animal in a cage. It was useless to attempt to dismiss him, for she saw that he would not go.

She moved quietly to a chair and sat down to wait.

Abruptly at last he stopped, halting in front of her. "Daisy,"--he began, and broke off short, seeming to battle with himself.

She looked up in surprise. It was so utterly unlike Nick to relinquish his self-command at a critical juncture. The next moment he amazed her still further. He dropped suddenly down on his knees and gripped her clasped hands fast.

"Daisy," he said again, and this time words came, jerky and pa.s.sionate, "this is my doing. I've driven you to it. If I hadn't interfered with Grange, you would never have thought of it."

She sat without moving, but the hasty utterance had its effect upon her. Some of the rigidity went out of her att.i.tude. "My dear Nick,"

she said, "what is the good of saying that?"

"Isn't it true?" he persisted.

She hesitated, unwilling to wound him.

"You know it is true," he declared with vehemence. "If I had let him alone, he would have married Muriel, and this thing would never have happened. G.o.d knows I did what was right, but if it doesn't turn out right, I'm done for. I never believed in eternal d.a.m.nation before, but if this thing comes to pa.s.s it will be h.e.l.l-fire for me for as long as I live. For I shall never believe in G.o.d again."

He swung away from her as though in bodily torture, came in contact with the table and bowed his head upon it. For many seconds his breathing, thick and short, almost convulsed, was the only sound in the room.

As for Daisy, she sat still, staring at him dumbly, witnessing his agony till the sight of it became more than she could bear. Then she moved, reached stiffly forward, and touched him.

"You are not to blame yourself, Nick," she said.

He did not stir. "I don't," he answered, and again fell silent.

At last he moved, seemed to pull himself together, finally got to his feet.

"Do you think you will be happy?" he said. "Do you think you will ever manage to forget what you have sacrificed to this fetish you call Love,--how you broke the heart of one of the best fellows in the world, and trampled upon the memory of your dead child--the little chap you used to call the light of your eyes, who used to hold out his arms directly he saw you and cry when you went away?"

His voice was not very steady, and he paused but he did not look at her or seem to expect any reply.

Daisy gave a great s.h.i.+ver. She felt cold from head to foot. But she was not afraid of Nick. If she yielded, it would not be through fear.

A full minute crawled away before he spoke again. "And this fellow Grange," he said then. "He is a man who values his honour. He has lived a clean life. He holds an unblemished record. He is in your hands. You can do what you like with him--whatever your love inspires you to do. You can pull him back into a straight course, or you can wreck him for good and all. Which is it going to be, I wonder? It's a sacrifice either way,--a sacrifice to Love or a sacrifice to devils.

You can make it which you will. But if it is to be the last, never talk of Love again. For Love--real Love--is the safeguard from all evil. And if you can do this thing, it has never been above your horizon, and never will be."