This Man's Wife Part 82

"Yes," she said quickly, "and they have been so kind; but I have seemed to regret the past days when we were all so quiet and happy together."

"Hus.h.!.+" he said quickly. "Don't speak like that."

"Not speak like that? There, now you are angry with me again."

"Angry? No, no, my child," cried Bayle, whose voice trembled with emotion. "I am not angry with you."

"Yes; that's how I like to hear you speak," cried Julia. "That is how you used to speak to me, and not in that grave, measured way, as if you were dissatisfied."

"Julia," he said, hoa.r.s.e with emotion, "how could I be dissatisfied when I see you happy? Has it not been the wish of my life?"

"Yes; I have always known it was. Now you make me happy again; and you will always speak so to me?"

"Always," he said, with his eyes lighting up with a strange fire.

"Always, my child."

"That's right," she cried. "That is like my dear old teacher speaking to me again;" and her sweet, ingenuous eyes looked lovingly in his.

But they saw no response to their tenderness, for the fire died out of Bayle's gaze, the red spots faded from his cheeks, and an agonising pang made him shudder, and then draw in a long, deep breath.

At that moment Lieutenant Eaton approached, and Bayle saw the tell-tale colour come into Julia's cheeks.

"It is fate, I suppose," he said, drawing back to give place to Eaton.

Julia looked up at him quickly, as if she divined the words he had said to himself; but he did not speak, only smiled sadly, and walked towards where Mrs Hallam was gazing over the side.

He shuddered as he thought of the meeting that must take place, and walked up and down slowly, thinking of his position, unheeded by Mrs Hallam, whose face was irradiated by the joy that filled her breast.

He turned back to see that Eaton had led Julia to the other side of the vessel, and as she, too, stood with her hands resting on the bulwarks, Bayle could see that the young man's face was bright and animated; that he was talking quickly to the girl, whose head was slightly bent as though she was listening attentively to all he said.

Christie Bayle drew a long breath as he walked slowly on. His old, patient, long-suffering smile came upon his face, and now his lip ceased quivering, and he said softly:

"If it is for her happiness. Why not?"

"And after all I have said," he heard from a quick voice beyond the awning. "It's too bad, Jack. He is proposing to her now. What shall we do?"

"Nothing. Let him find all out for himself, and then cool down."

"And half break the poor girl's heart? I don't want that."

Bayle hurried away, feeling as if he could bear no more. The cabin seemed the best retreat, where he could take counsel with himself, and try and arrange some plan in which he could dispa.s.sionately leave out self, and act as he had vowed that he would--as a true friend to Millicent Hallam and her child.

But he was not to reach his cabin without another mental sting, for as he descended he came upon Thisbe, looking red-eyed as if she had been crying, and he stopped to speak to her.

"Matter, sir?" she answered; "and you ask me? Go back on deck, and see for yourself, and say whether the old trouble is to come all over again."

He felt as if he must speak angrily to the woman if he paused; and hurrying by her he shut himself in his cabin and stayed there for hours with the bustle of preparations for landing going on all around, the home of many months being looked upon now as a prison which every pa.s.senger was longing to quit, to gain the freedom of the sh.o.r.e.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

COMMUNING WITH SELF.

It was evening when Bayle went on deck again, his old calm having returned. He stopped short, and the elasticity of spirit that seemed to have come back--a feeling of hopefulness in keeping with the light champagny atmosphere, so full of life, died out again, even as the breeze that had wafted them on all day had now almost failed, and the s.h.i.+p glided very slowly through water that looked like liquid gold.

"A few short hours," he said to himself, as he gazed at Mrs Hallam standing with her arm round Julia, bathed in the evening light, watching the golden clouds upon the horizon that they were told were land--to them the land of hope and joy, but to Christie Bayle a place of sorrow and of pain.

"A few short hours," he said again, "and then the fond illusions must fall away, and they will be face to face with the truth."

He crept away sick at heart to the other side, where Lieutenant Eaton, who seemed to be hovering about mother and daughter, eager to join them but kept away by respect for their desire to be alone, pa.s.sed him with a short nod, hesitated, as if about to speak, and then went on again.

Bayle waited hour after hour, ready should those in his charge require his services; but they did not move from their position, and it was Eaton who intercepted Thisbe, and took from her the scarves she was bringing to protect them from the night air; but only a few words pa.s.sed, and he drew back to walk up and down till long after the Southern Cross was standing out among the glorious stars that looked so large and bright in the clear, dark sky above, when Mrs Hallam drew a deep breath and whispered a few words to Julia, and they descended to their cabin for the night, but not to sleep.

Then by degrees the deck was left to the watch, and a strange silence fell, for a change had come upon all on board. The first excitement that followed the look-out-man's cry of "Land ho!" had pa.s.sed, and pa.s.sengers and soldiers were gathered in groups after their busy preparation for the landing another day distant, and talked in whispers.

Lower and lower sank the weary spirit of Christie Bayle, as he stood leaning on the bulwark, gazing away into the starry depths of the glorious night, for it seemed to him that his task was nearly done, that soon those whom he had loved so well would pa.s.s out of his care, and as he thought of Millicent Hallam sharing the home of her convict husband he murmured a prayer on her behalf. Then his thoughts of the mother pa.s.sed, and he recalled all that he had seen during the past months, above all, Julia's excited manner that day, and the conduct of Lieutenant Eaton. And as he pondered his thoughts took somewhat this form:

"Young, handsome, a thorough gentleman, what wonder that he should win her young love? but will he stand the test? A convict's daughter--an officer of the King. He must know; and if he does stand the test--"

Christie Bayle stood with his hands clasped tightly together, as once more a strange agony of soul pierced him to the core. He saw himself again the young curate entranced by the beauty of a fair young English girl in her happy home, declaring his love for her, laying bare his hopes, and learning the bitter lesson that those hopes were vain. He saw again the long years of peaceful friends.h.i.+p with a new love growing for the child who had been his princ.i.p.al waking thought. He saw her grow to womanhood, loving him as he had loved her--with a love that had been such as a father might bear his child, till the peaceful calm had been broken as he saw that Julia listened eagerly and with brightening eyes to the words of this young officer; and now it was that like a blow the knowledge came, the knowledge that beneath all this tenderness had been a love of a stronger nature, ready to burst forth and bloom when it was again too late.

"A dream--a dream," he said sadly. "How could she love me otherwise than as she said--as her dear teacher?"

"A dream," he said again. "`Thy will be done!'"

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

"AT LAST!"

A busy day on s.h.i.+p-board, with the excitement growing fast, and officers and men cheerfully turning themselves into guides and describers of the scenery on either hand.

A glorious day, with a brisk breeze, and the white sails curving out, and the great vessel, that had borne them safely to their destination, careening gently over, with the white foam dividing and swelling away to starboard and to port.

The sky overhead might have been that of Italy, so gloriously bright and pure it seemed to all, as at last the vessel glided in between the guardian giants of the port, and then, as they stood well within the two grey rocky precipices, the swell upon which they had softly swayed died away, the breeze sank, and the great white sails flapped and filled and flapped, the s.h.i.+p slowly slackened its speed, and at last lay motionless, waiting for the tide that would bear them on to the anchorage within.

It was evening when the tantalising waiting was at an end, and the expectant groups saw themselves once more gliding on and on, past a long beach of white sand, into the estuary that, minute by minute, took more and more the aspect of some widening river.

Seen by the glory of the sinking sun, and after the long, monotonous voyage, it was like some glimpse of Eden, and with one consent the soldiers sent forth a hearty cheer, which died away into silence as the great s.h.i.+p glided on. Jutting promontories, emerald islands, golden waters, and a sky like topaz, as the sun slowly sank. Curving bays filled with roseate hues reflected from the sky, swelling hills in the distance of wondrous greyish green, with deepening slopes of softly darkening shadows. The harbour was without a ripple, and glistened as polished metal, and mirrored here and there the sh.o.r.e. Away in the distance, the soft greyish verdure stood out in the clear air; and as the wearied travellers drank in the glorious scene, there was a solemnity in its beauty that oppressed them, even unto tears.

Millicent Hallam stood in that self-same spot where she had so patiently watched for this her promised land, and as she bent forward with half-extended hands, Julia saw her lips part, and heard from time to time some broken utterances, as the tears of joy fell slowly from her dreamy eyes.

Time after time the most intimate of their fellow-pa.s.sengers approached, but there was that in the att.i.tude of mother and daughter which commanded respect, and they drew away.

On glided the s.h.i.+p, nearer and nearer, with the houses and rough buildings of the settlement slowly coming into sight, while, as the sun flashed from the windows, and turned the sand that fringed the sh.o.r.e for the time to tawny gold, the hearts of mother and daughter seemed to go out, to leap the intervening distance, and pour forth their longings to him who, they felt, was watching the s.h.i.+p that bore to him all he held dear.

Golden changing to orange, to amber, to ruddy wine. Then one deep glow, and the river-like harbour for a few minutes as if of molten metal cooling into purple, into black, and then the placid surface glistening with fallen stars.

And as Julia pressed nearer to the trusting woman, who gazed straight before her at the lights that twinkled in the scattered houses of the port, she heard a sweet, rich voice murmur softly:

"Robert, husband--I have come!" And again, soft as the murmur of the tide upon the sh.o.r.e: