The Black Cross Part 16

Her eyes stared down at the blotch on her hand. They were frightened, dilated, and her whole body quivered in the chair. "Velasco--take it away!"

He put down the gla.s.s and took the small, white hand in his own, brus.h.i.+ng it gently with the sleeve of his jacket. "There now," he said, "it is gone. It was only a drop of wine. Hush--hus.h.!.+ See, there is no blood, Kaya, I never meant there was blood. Don't scream again!"

"It's the Cross!" she cried, "the curse of the Black Cross! Ah, go--leave me! I am a murderess! I shot him, Velasco, I shot him! I fulfilled the vow, the oath of the order. But now--oh G.o.d! I am cursed! Not blood--not blood!"

She was struggling to her feet.

"_Without weakness, without hesitation, or mercy_. I did it!

Velasco--I did it!"

She fell back into the chair again, sobbing, murmuring to herself.

"Not blood--no--not blood!"

"That is over and past," said Velasco, "Don't think of it, Kaya. Be a boy, a man, not weak like a woman. Eat the rest of the bread."

The girl took the bread from his hand.

"Finish the wine."

He held the gla.s.s to her lips until she had drained it; and then she began to laugh a little unsteadily.

"You are right," she said, "a boy doesn't--weep. I must be strong, a good comrade." She dashed the tears from her eyes and looked up at him pathetically, smiling with lips that still quivered. "It is over," she said, "I am--I have--you know; but it is over! I will forget it.

Sometimes I can forget it if I try; then I shut my eyes at night and I see him before me, on his face with his arms outstretched--still and strange. The blood is trickling a stream on the floor! I hear the shot--I--"

"Be still, Kaya, hus.h.!.+ Don't speak of it; forget it! Hus.h.!.+"

She began to laugh again: "See, I am your comrade, light-hearted and gay as a gypsey should be. Already--I have forgotten! What a couple of tramps we are, you and I! Just look at your boots!"

"And your faded old jacket!"

"And your scarf, Velasco!"

"And your velveteen cap!"

They laughed out together, and then they stopped suddenly and listened.

"Was it anything?"

"No, I think not."

"Are you sure?"

Velasco leaned towards her and their fingers touched for a moment. She drew them away.

"Shall we go; is it time?"

"Not yet," said Velasco, "not yet! Your lips are so sweet, they are arched like a bow; they quiver like a string when one plays on it.

Kiss me, Kaya."

She pressed him back with her hands outstretched, her palms against his coat. "We must go," she whispered, "They will track us, Monsieur. I am frightened."

"Kaya, kiss me."

Their eyes met and drew closer, gazing intently, the dark and the blue.

"Don't touch me," she said faintly. "We are two boys together. You must forget that I am a girl. Can you forget?"

"No," said Velasco. "You were charming before, but you are irresistible now, in that velveteen jacket and scarf, with the curls on your brow. When you look at me so, with your head on one side, and your eyes half veiled, and the flush on your cheeks, you are sweet--I love you! Kiss me."

He pressed forward closely, his eyes still on hers; but she held him back with her hands, trembling a little.

"Velasco," she whispered, "Listen! I trust you. You are stronger than I; your wrists are like steel, but--I trust you. See--I trust you."

She took down her hands from his shoulders and folded them proudly over her breast, gazing up at him.

"How strange your eyes are," said Velasco, "like two pools in the twilight; one could drown in their depths. You are there behind the blue, Kaya. Your spirit looks out at me, brave and dauntless. When you sob, you are like a child; when you look at me under the veil of your lashes and your heart beats fast, you are a woman. And now--you are--what are you, Kaya? A young knight watching beside his s.h.i.+eld!"

He hesitated, and pa.s.sed his hand over his brows, and looked at her again; then he moved away slowly and began to lay the things in his knapsack. "They are all boys' things," he said, "but you are a boy; they will do for you too."

"Yes," she said.

He laughed a little unsteadily. "There is money in my belt; now the knapsack is ready, my violin--and that is all. It is nearly eleven.

Come--Kaya."

He turned his head away without looking at her; he approached the door slowly. The girl sat still in the chair.

"Are you coming?"

There was silence; then he turned on his heel, and went back to her, and laid his hand on her shoulder. "Kaya," he said, whispering as if someone could hear, "Are you afraid? Why are you afraid to come with me, dear brother musician, dear comrade?" His voice broke. "I will take care of you. You said you would trust me, Kaya."

The girl clasped his arm with a cry: "I am not afraid for myself," she said, "but for you--you, Velasco. Leave me before it is too late.

There is time for the train, just time. I implore you to go!"

She trembled and raised her eyes to his. "If anything should happen, and you suffered for me, I couldn't bear it. Leave me--Velasco!"

He put out his hand and took hers, crus.h.i.+ng it in his own strength. He did not speak but he drew her forward, and she followed him dumbly, quietly, without resistance; her head drooping, the cap on the back of her yellow curls; the lashes hiding her eyes, fringing her cheek.

He took the Stradivarius under his arm. The door closed and they started out, hesitating, looking back over their shoulders; stealing down the stairs like two frightened children hand in hand.

CHAPTER X

The first pale streaks of dawn were creeping slowly up from the horizon, piercing the darkness of night with faint, far-away shafts of light, like arrows silver-tipped, shot from an unseen quiver. In the distance, the snow fields stretched limitless and vast, and between them the road wound in and out, narrow and dark, like a coiled serpent amid the whiteness.

Here and there an occasional black-roofed farm house reared its head; across the snow came the sudden gleam of an ice covered pond; while afar off, to the left, the domes of Belaa rose dark and mysterious in their roundness, like a patch of giant toadstools, shadowy and strange. The air was damp and a cold wind blew over the snow drifts. Along the road, in the full teeth of the blast, trudged two boys, the one a little behind the other, and the taller of the two s.h.i.+elding the younger with his body.

"Is it far now, Velasco?"