Greatheart Part 27

"Oh, I couldn't do that," she said. "I--couldn't. I ought not to be here with you now."

"My fault," he said easily. "I brought you here before you knew where you were. If you go to confession, you can mention that as an extenuating circ.u.mstance."

"Oh, don't!" said Dinah, inexplicably stung by his manner. "It--it isn't nice of you to talk like that."

He put out his hand and touched her arm lightly, persuasively. "Then you are angry with me?" he said.

Her resentment melted. She threw him a fleeting smile. "No--no! But how could you imagine I could tell anyone? You didn't seriously--you couldn't!"

"There isn't much to tell, is there?" he said, his fingers closing gently over the soft roundness of her arm. "And you don't like that plan of mine?"

"I didn't say I didn't like it," said Dinah, her eyes lowered.

"But--but--I can't do it, that's all. I'm going now. Good-bye!"

She turned to go, but his fingers still held. He drew a step nearer.

"Daphne, remember--you are not to run away!"

A transient dimple showed at the corner of Dinah's mouth. "You must let me go then," she said.

"And if I do--how will you reward me?" His voice was very deep; the tones of it sent a sharp quiver through her. She felt unspeakably small and helpless.

She made a little gesture of appeal. "Please--please let me go! You know you are much stronger than I am."

He drew nearer, his face bent so low that his lips touched her shoulder as she stood turned from him. "You don't know your strength yet," he said. "But you soon will. Are you going away from me like this? Don't you think you're rather hard on me?"

It was a point of view that had not occurred to Dinah. Her warm heart had a sudden twinge of self-reproach. She turned swiftly to him.

"I didn't mean to be horrid. Please don't think that of me! I know I often am. But not to you--never to you!"

"Never?" he said.

His face was close to her, and it wore a faint smile in which she detected none of the arrogance of the conqueror. She put up a shy, impulsive hand and touched his cheek.

"Of course not--Apollo!" she whispered.

He caught the hand and kissed it. She trembled as she felt the drawing of his lips.

"I--I must really go now," she told him hastily.

He stood up to his full height, and again she quivered as she realized how magnificent a man he was.

"_A bientot_, Daphne!" he said, and let her go.

She slipped away from his presence with the feeling of being caught in the meshes of a great net from which she could never hope to escape. She had drunk to-night yet deeper of the wine of the G.o.ds, and she knew beyond all doubting that she would return for more.

The memory of his kisses thrilled her all through the night. When she dreamed she was back again in his arms.

CHAPTER XVII

THE UNKNOWN FORCE

"Arrah thin, Miss Isabel darlint, and can't ye rest at all?"

Old Biddy stooped over her charge, her parchment face a ma.s.s of wrinkles.

Isabel was lying in bed, but raised upon one elbow in the att.i.tude of one about to rise. She looked at the old woman with a queer, ironical smile in her tragic eyes.

"I am going up the mountain," she said. "It is moonlight, and I know the way. I can rest when I get to the top."

"Ah, be aisy, darlint!" urged the old woman. "It's much more likely he'll come to ye if ye lie quiet."

"No, he will not come to me." There was unalterable conviction in Isabel's voice. "It is I who must go to him. If I had waited on the mountain I should never have missed him. He is waiting for me there now."

She flung off the bedclothes and rose, a gaunt, white figure from which all the gracious lines of womanhood had long since departed. Her silvery hair hung in two great plaits from her shoulders, wonderful hair that shone in the shaded lamplight with a l.u.s.tre that seemed luminous.

"Will I have to fetch Master Scott to ye?" said Biddy, eyeing her wistfully. "He's very tired, poor young man. There's two nights he's had no sleep at all. Won't ye try and rest aisy for his sake, Miss Isabel darlint? Ye can go up the mountain in the morning, and maybe that little Miss Bathurst will like to go with ye. Do wait till the morning now!" she wheedled, laying a wiry old hand upon her. "It's no Christian hour at all for going about now."

"Let me go!" said Isabel.

Biddy's black eyes pleaded with a desperate earnestness. "If ye'd only listen to reason, Miss Isabel!" she said.

"How can I listen," Isabel answered, "when I can hear his voice in my heart calling, calling, calling! Oh, let me go, Biddy! You don't understand, or you couldn't seek to hold me back from him."

"Mavourneen!" Biddy's eyes were full of tears; the hand she had laid upon Isabel's arm trembled. "It isn't meself that's holding ye back. It's G.o.d.

He'll join the two of ye together in His own good time, but ye can't hurry Him. Ye've got to bide His time."

"I can't!" Isabel said. "I can't! You're all conspiring against me. I know--I know! Give me my cloak, and I will go."

Biddy heaved a great sigh, the tears were running down her cheeks, but her face was quite resolute. "I'll have to call Master Scott after all,"

she said.

"No! No! I don't want Scott. I don't want anyone. I only want to be up the mountain in time for the dawn. Oh, why are you all such fools? Why can't you understand?" There was growing exasperation in Isabel's voice.

Biddy's hand fell from her, and she turned to cross the room.

Scott slept in the next room to them, and a portable electric bell which they adjusted every night communicated therewith. Biddy moved slowly to press the switch, but ere she reached it Isabel's voice stayed her.

"Biddy, don't call Master Scott!"

Biddy paused, looking back with eyes of faithful devotion.

"Ah, Miss Isabel darlint, will ye rest aisy then? I dursn't give ye the quieting stuff without Master Scott says so."

"I don't want anything," Isabel said. "I only want my liberty. Why are you all in league against me to keep me in just one place? Ah, listen to that noise! How wild those people are! It is the same every night--every night. Can they really be as happy as they sound?"