The Sapphire Cross Part 33

"The place is very dangerous," said Brace; and then, in an earnest voice--"Thank Heaven, though, that I was so near at hand."

He paused for a few moments to gaze in her face, and in that brief s.p.a.ce of time danger--the water--all was forgotten as their eyes met, for hers to fall directly before his loving, earnest look. For there, in spite of what he had said, in great peril, but with her heart beating against his, so that he could feel its pulsations, all Brace Norton's resolutions faded away; and for a moment he thought of how sweet it would be to die thus--to loose his hold of the rushes, to clasp his other arm round her, and then, with an end to all the sorrow and heart-burning of this life, with her clinging to him as she might never cling again, to let the water close above their heads, and then--

"What a romantic fool I am," thought Brace. "Here, a month ago, I thought life one of the jolliest things in the world; and now I'm thinking in this love-sick, unhealthy, French, charcoal-and-brimstone style of suicide."

The reaction gave his mind tone; for directly after, Brace Norton was thinking how sweet it would be to live, perhaps earning Isa Gernon's love as well as her grat.i.tude, for saving her sweet life; and with a flush upon his cheek for his weak thoughts, Brace nerved himself for the effort he was about to make.

With his right hand tightly clutching the rush tuft, he tried to thrust his feet into the bank beneath; but in spite of a tremendous and exhausting effort, the sole result was, that the portion of the edge he clung to came away in his hand, and with the plunge, they were the next instant both beneath the water. A few vigorous strokes, though, and Brace was once more at the side with the half-fainting girl well supported, as a bunch of rushes once more supplied him with a hold for his clinging fingers.

"Oh, pray--pray save me!" murmured Isa, faintly, as a cold chill shot through her, and her pale face grew almost ghastly.

"With Heaven's help I will!" exclaimed Brace, thickly, "or I'll die with you!"

The words seemed to be forced from his lips by his strong emotion, and he could perceive that she heard them. He knew, too, that she had recognised him at the first. The words took their impa.s.sioned tone, in spite of himself; and he repented, as he saw a faint flush of colour--it might have been from indignation--rise to her cheeks.

But there was no time for dallying with thoughts of such engendering, for he knew that every moment only robbed him of so much power, and he prepared for another effort.

"Hold me tightly," he said. "Don't be afraid; only let me have both hands at liberty, so that I may be able to drag myself out."

She did as he wished, and he struggled hard; but the weight clinging to him frustrated every effort, and after five minutes' vain expenditure of strength, Brace had great difficulty in finding firm hold for his grasp; while his heart sank, as he found that what at first had seemed but a trifling mishap, and an opportunity for displaying his knight-errantry, now began to loom forth in proportions ominous to them both.

He looked in every direction now, where the tall reeds did not shut out the view, for he was beginning to mistrust his own power; but there was not a soul within sight. And now, for the first time, he raised his voice, to cry loudly for help--despairingly, though, for he could not think it possible that aid could be near. He called again and again; but his voice seemed to be lost in the vast s.p.a.ce, and sounded faint, adding to the chill of despair creeping to his heart; till, rousing himself, after regaining his breath, he adopted the plan that he should have tried at first.

"Miss Gernon!--Isa! For Heaven's sake, speak!" he cried, earnestly, as he gazed at the half-closed eyes and the drooping head. "Try and rouse yourself for one more effort!"

She heard his words, and her eyes unclosed, and rested upon his for an instant.

"That's right!" he cried, joyfully. "Now, quick! loose your hold of me!

Don't cling, but take hold here of these reeds where my hand is, and hold there tightly for a few moments. I can, then, perhaps, get out, and draw you after me: I am quite powerless here. Can you hold on for half a minute?"

Isa's pale lips parted, but no audible words came. She obeyed him, though, and he guided her cold, white hand to the sharp-edged leaves.

"Now, then, be brave! Keep a good heart, for the sake of all who love you!" he whispered; and loosing his hold, he paused for an instant or two, to find that she was striving gallantly to obey him. "Only a few moments!" he cried; and then, summoning all his strength, he left her, and by means of a desperate effort fought and plunged his way through the now clinging--now yielding ma.s.s, till--how he could not tell--he forced his way on, to lie panting, at full length, amongst the rushes.

The next moment a cry of despair burst from his breast; for, as he drew himself along to where Isa Gernon clung, he saw that the tuft of reeds, disturbed by his frantic efforts, were parting from the edge, and directly after the poor girl's head sank again beneath the black water.

A rush--a plunge--a fierce struggle, and Brace was nearly free of the mosses and water-weeds; but now they seemed to cling round him more than ever, hampering his efforts, and minutes seemed to have elapsed before he had shaken himself clear, and dived down into the depths of the pool, forcing his way lower and lower till half strangled, when, rising to the surface, he drew a long, gasping breath, and then again plunged down.

It was well for Brace Norton that many a time he had swum and dived for sport in far off tropic waters, till he had gained a mastery over the element which now stood him in good stead; for at this second plunge far down into the black depths his hand came in contact with Isa Gernon's long, flowing hair, and the next instant he had risen to the surface and held her at the pool edge, with her lips well above water, he clinging the while to the reeds, as, with all the force he could muster from his panting breast, he once more shouted hoa.r.s.ely for help.

Book 2, Chapter VIII.

RESCUE.

"I've done my part," muttered Brace Norton, as, in spite of the despair of the moment, he yielded to his feelings, kissing fondly again and again the cold pale lips of the insensible girl. "I can do no more.

Help must come from elsewhere, or--No, I will not give up, if only for her sake." And once more he hoa.r.s.ely shouted for the help that he could not think would come.

The loosening of one arm so that the burden might glide from him--a strong effort, and he could once more have been amongst the reeds and mosses; but it would have been like leaving the brighter portion of his life to death; and his eyes glared fiercely as he clutched the fair, slight figure more tightly to his breast. It was like fighting against a cruel temptation, one which whispered to him of the brightness of his young life that he was casting away for the sake of an enemy's daughter--of his home, and his weeping mother.

The temptation was strong, but he could not play the coward's part; and he held Isa to him more and more closely, gloating over the soft, regular features, as, with a pang hard to bear, he told himself the next moment that, even if help came, it would arrive too late.

That same afternoon Sir Murray Gernon strode out into the pleasure-grounds, thoughtfully crossed the lawn, avoiding, as it were, more by instinct than care, the various flower-beds, till he roused himself, with a start, on finding that he was standing at the very edge of the lake, gazing down into its deep waters, as if they possessed for him some horrible fascination.

He stood there for full ten minutes, his brow corrugated, his eyes staring, and his teeth clenched firmly upon his lower lip. Then with an effort he seemed to drag himself, shuddering, away, to walk slowly muttering to himself.

Fifty yards of winding amidst flower-beds and shrubs, and Sir Murray came suddenly upon Lord Maudlaine, his guest, seated upon a garden-chair, a half-smoked cigar in one hand, a newspaper at his feet, his mouth half open, and his aristocratic head resting upon his open palm.

It is quite possible that Sir Murray Gernon might have pa.s.sed his visitor, who had already been for some days at the Castle, but for the fact that certain strange sounds arrested his attention. Had these sounds proceeded from Alexander McCray, there would have been no difficulty about the matter, and one would have immediately said that the ex-gardener was snoring loudly; but when a n.o.bleman is concerned, a diffidence--an unwillingness is felt to use such a term. However, Lord Maudlaine was loudly trumpeting forth the announcement that he was devoting a spare hour to the service of Morpheus, and Sir Murray Gernon, hearing those sounds, was attracted thereby.

"You here, Maudlaine?" exclaimed Sir Murray.

"Eh? Why, what the deuce--Dear me! I suppose I was dozing," said his lords.h.i.+p, lifting himself up a bit at a time, as he indulged in a most unmistakable yawn.

"Not with Isa?" said Sir Murray. "I thought you went out with her?"

"Ya-as--ya-as! no question of a doubt about it, I did," drawled the Viscount; "and I've just been dreaming that I was boating with her on the lake--not your fish-pond here, but Como--same as we did before we came away."

"But you went out walking with her?" said Sir Murray, anxiously.

"Ya-as. Not a question of a doubt about it! I did go out and walked a little way with her."

"Did she turn back, then?"

"N-n-no!" said the Viscount; "point of fact, she as good as told me she didn't want me, and went on by herself."

"My dear Maudlaine," said Sir Murray, smiling, as he clapped his guest upon the shoulder, "I'm afraid that you are not half a lady's man. It is a fine thing for you that you have no rival in the field."

"Ya-as--just so--no doubt about that," said his lords.h.i.+p laughing. "But a--a I began talking to her on indifferent subjects, and, point of fact, she didn't seem to like indifferent subjects--seemed as if I bothered her, you know, and of course I didn't want to do that; so seeing, as you say, that there was no one else in the field--regular walk over the course, you know--I didn't bother her nor myself either. We're getting on very nicely, though, Sir Murray--very nicely indeed. No question about that."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Sir Murray, dryly.

"Ya-as; beginning to understand one another's idio--what is it?-- syncracies, don't you call it? I think Isa likes me."

"Oh! yes, of course--of course!" said Sir Murray. "By the way, Maudlaine," he continued, taking the young man's arm and walking slowly with him down a path, "I hope you will be particular about the place; for I dare say I shall give it up to you young folks. I mean to be pretty stringent, though, I can a.s.sure you: I won't have a tree touched--no timber felled; there is none too much now. I should not like the lake drained either: I should particularly object to that. It might be said," continued Sir Murray, hastily, "that it made the place damp; but I don't think it--I don't think it."

"Wouldn't dream of doing anything distasteful, of course," said the Viscount. "Always be glad of your advice, of course, if I had any ideas of improving anything. By the way, though, Gernon, she's mad after botany."

"She? Who is?" said Sir Murray, starting.

"She is--Isa, you know. I shall have to work it up, for she don't seem to like my not being able to enter into the names of weeds with her.

Not a weedy man myself, you know, eh? Ha, ha, ha!" And he laughed at what he intended for a joke.

"Was she botanising to-day?" said Sir Murray, huskily.

"Ya-a-as! Said it was her mother's favourite pursuit, though I don't know why she should like it for that reason, eh?"

"Who told her that absurd nonsense?" exclaimed Sir Murray, angrily.

"Well, she did tell me," said the lover; "but, a--a--really, you know, I can't recollect. Don't particularly want to know, I suppose?"