Phroso Part 41

'He is dead.'

'And Kortes?'

'They are both gone. They fell together into the pool and must be dead; there's no sound from it.'

A frightened sob was her answer; she put her hand up to her eyes.

'Ah, dear Kortes!' she whispered, and I heard her sob gently again.

'He was a brave man,' said I. 'G.o.d rest his soul!'

'He loved me,' she said simply, between her sobs. 'He--he and his sister were the only friends I had.'

'You have other friends,' said I, and my voice was well nigh as low as hers.

'You are very good to me, my lord,' she said, and she conquered her sobs and lay still, her head on my arm, her hair enveloping my hand in its silken ma.s.ses.

'We must go on,' said I. 'We mustn't stay here. Our only chance is to go on.'

'Chance? Chance of what?' she echoed in a little despairing murmur, 'Where am I to go? Why should I struggle any more?'

'Would you fall into Mouraki's power?' I asked from between set lips.

'No; but I need not. I have my dagger.'

'G.o.d forbid!' I cried in sudden horror; and in spite of myself I felt my hand tighten and press her head among the coils of her hair. She also felt it; she raised herself on her elbow, turned to me, and sent a straining look into my eyes. What answer could I make to it? I averted my face; she dropped her head between her hands on the rocky floor.

'We must go,' said I again. 'Can you walk, Phroso?'

I hardly noticed the name I called her, nor did she appear to mark it.

'I can't go,' she moaned. 'Let me stay here. I can get back to the house, perhaps.'

'I won't leave you here. I won't leave you to Mouraki.'

'It will not be to Mouraki, it will be to--'

I caught her hand, crying in a low whisper, 'No, no.'

'What else?' she asked, again sitting up and looking at me.

'We must make a push for safety, as we meant to before.'

'Safety?' Her lips bent in a sadly derisive little smile. 'What is this safety you talk about?' she seemed to say.

'Yes, safety.'

'Ah, yes, you must be safe,' she said, appearing to awake suddenly to a consciousness of something forgotten. 'Ah, yes, my lord, you must be safe. Don't linger, my lord. Don't linger!'

'Do you suppose I'm going alone?' I asked, and, in spite of everything, I could not help smiling as I put the question. I believe she really thought that the course in question might commend itself to me.

'No,' she said. 'You wouldn't go alone. But I--I can't cross that awful bridge.'

'Oh yes, you can,' said I. 'Come along,' and I rose and held out my arms towards her.

She looked at me, the tears still on her cheeks, a doubtful smile dawning on her lips.

'My dear lord,' she said very softly, and stood while I put my arms round her and lifted her till she lay easily. Then came what I think was the hardest thing of all to bear. She let her head fall on my shoulder and lay trustfully, I could almost say luxuriously, back in my arms; a little happy sigh of relief and peace came from her lips, her eyes closed, she was content.

Well, I started; and I shall not record precisely what I thought as I started. What I ought to have thought about was picking my way over the bridge, and, if more matter for consideration were needed, I might have speculated on the best thing to do when we reached the outlet of the pa.s.sage. Suppose, then, that I thought about what I ought to have thought about.

'Keep still while we're on the bridge,' said I to Phroso. 'It's not over broad, you know.'

A little movement of the head, till it rested in yet greater seeming comfort, was Phroso's only disobedience; for the rest she was absolutely still. It was fortunate; for to cross that bridge in the dark, carrying a lady, was not a job I cared much about. However we came to the other side; the walls of rock closed in again on either hand, and I felt the way begin to slope downwards under my feet.

'Does it go pretty straight now?' I asked.

'Oh, yes, quite straight. You can't miss it, my lord,' said Phroso, and another little sigh of content followed the words. I had, I suppose, little enough to laugh at, but I did laugh very gently and silently, and I did not propose that Phroso should walk.

'Are you tired?' she said presently, just opening her eyes for an instant.

'I could carry you for ever,' I answered.

Phroso smiled under lazy lids that closed again.

In spite of Phroso's a.s.surance of its simple straightness the road had many twists and turns in it, and I had often to ask my way. Phroso gave me directions at once and without hesitation. Evidently she was thoroughly familiar with the track. When I remarked on this she said, 'Oh, yes, I often used to come this way. It leads to such a pretty cave, you know.'

'Then it doesn't come out at the same point as the way my friends took?'

'No, more than a mile away from that. We must be nearly there now. Are you tired, my lord?'

'Not a bit,' said I, and Phroso accepted the answer without demur.

There can, however, be no harm in admitting now that I was tired, not so much from carrying Phroso, though, as from the strain of the day and the night that I had pa.s.sed through; and I hailed with joy a glimmer of light which danced before my eyes at the end of a long straight tunnel. We were going down rapidly now; and, hark, there was the wash of water welcoming us to the outer air and the light of the upper world; for day had just dawned as we came to the end of the way.

The light that I saw ahead was ruddy with the rays of the new-risen sun.

'Ah,' sighed Phroso happily, 'I hear the sea. Oh, I smell it. And see, my lord, the light!'

I turned from the light, joyful as was the beholding of it, to the face which lay close by mine. That too I could see now for the first time plainly. I met Phroso's eyes. A slight tinge of colour dyed her cheeks, but she lay still, looking at me, and she said softly, in low rich tones:

'You look very weary. Let me walk now, my lord.'

'No, we'll go on to the end now,' I said.

The end was near. Another five minutes brought us where once again the enfolding walls spread out. The path broadened into a stony beach; above us the rocks formed an arch: we were in a little cave, and the waves rolled gently to and fro on the margin of the beach. The mouth of the cave was narrow and low, the rocks leaving only about a yard between themselves above and the water below; there was just room for a boat to pa.s.s out and in. Phroso sprang from my arms, and stretched out her hands to the light.

'Ah, if we had a boat!' I cried, running to the water's edge.