To Win the Love He Sought Part 33

The knife was sharp, and my task was over in less than a minute. I dropped it into the sea, and leaned back breathless. The wind was coming.

"Lumley!" I faltered, "will you come to me? I am afraid!"

He turned round with a quick loving word. At that moment the catastrophe happened. A sudden gust of wind filled out the sail. There was a crash as it parted from the mast, a confused ma.s.s of canva.s.s and limp rope.

The whole of the strain for a moment was upon the topmost portion of the mast, and the result was inevitable. It snapped short, and the whole tangled heap fell down, half in the bottom of the boat, half in the sea.

We heeled right over, and it seemed as if we must be capsized. But my lover had presence of mind, and a strong desire to live. He leaned heavily on the other side of the boat, and whipping a large sailor's knife from his pocket, cut away the whole of the wreckage from the stump of the mast with a few lightning-like strokes. It fell away overboard at once, and though we s.h.i.+pped a lot of water, the boat righted itself again. While it was yet trembling with the shock he leaned across to me, pale, but with no fear in his set face or his clear, resolute tone.

"Courage, Margharita! The oars! Quick, dear!"

Then for the first time my heart smote me for what I had done; for the pa.s.sionate desire of life was alight in his eyes. What right had I to make him share my fate? My deep joy was suddenly numbed. I was a murderess!

I handed him the remaining one, and pretended to feel about in the bottom of the boat. In that moment I recovered myself.

"There is only one here," I announced calmly.

"Impossible!" he cried. "I saw the pair laid out myself."

He dropped on his knee and felt anxiously around. Then he struck a match; with the same result. The oar was gone.

He knew then that my words were true, and he came over to my side with a great despair in his dark eyes.

"Margharita!" he cried, taking me into his arms, "there is death before us, and it is I who have brought it upon you. Oh, my love, my love!"

His kisses fell upon my lips, and my head fell upon his shoulder. Then I drew a sigh of deep content, and I felt that I had done well.

"I do not mind," I whispered softly. "Let us stay like this. I am happy."

"My darling!"

CHAPTER x.x.x

THE DAWN OF A NEW LIFE

To desire death is to live, and to desire life is to die. It is the mockery of human existence, the experience of all. I had willed to die at that moment, without further speech or opportunity for thought, and death seemed to have turned his back upon me.

We drifted on, tossed high and low by the tall waves which rose around us like black shadows, threatening destruction at every moment. Often when we had seen one towering above us we had thought that the end had come, and I had felt my lover's arms tighten around me, and my lips had clung close to his. But again and again a reprieve was granted to us.

Although every timber in our frail craft s.h.i.+vered, we survived the shock and drifted into smoother water.

A little before midnight the wind dropped, although there was a heavy sea still running. Through a dimly woven mist we could see the stars faintly s.h.i.+ning between the ma.s.ses of black clouds rolling across the wind-swept sky. But there was no moon; nothing to show us whither we were drifting upon the waste of waters. There was something inexpressibly weird in that darkness. It seemed less a blank darkness than a darkness of moving shapes and figures--a living darkness, somehow suggesting death. It will live in my memory forever.

"Do you mind dying, Lumley?" I asked him once.

"Yes," he answered solemnly, "I do. I am just learning how sweet it would be to live."

I held him tighter, for at that moment a great wave had broken over us.

I dreaded nothing but separation.

"Supposing that, if we lived, something came between us?" I whispered.

"Suppose there was something between us which nothing could alter, nothing could move--what then?"

"I cannot suppose it," he answered. "Nothing could come between us that I would not overcome--nothing in life."

"Still, if it were so?" I persisted.

"Then I would sooner die like this if we are to die. We are in G.o.d's hands."

I shuddered at that last sentence. If indeed we were on the threshold of eternity, what had I to hope from G.o.d? Alas! at that moment my earthly love was so strong that the fear of death was weak and faint.

We sat there silent and full of strange emotions, and expecting every moment the end to come. All of a sudden, we both of us gave a great cry, and my lover leaped up so that our boat rocked violently and nearly capsized. For my part, I sat still, gazing, with distended eyes and parted lips, upon the strangest sight which I had ever seen.

A great blaze of brilliant light seemed suddenly to flash into the horizon, and falling into one long level ray, to travel slowly across the surface of the water toward us. Everything which lay in its path was revealed to us with minute and wonderful distinctness. So vivid was the illumination that we could see the white foam on the top of the green waves, and the floating seaweed rising and falling. Outside that one level blaze, more brilliant even than the sunlight, the darkness seemed blacker and more impenetrable than ever. It was a sight so marvelous that I held my breath, awed and wondering. Then my lover gave a great cry.

"Margharita, my love, my love, we are saved!"

"What is it?" I whispered.

"The electric search light. I had it fitted to the _Stormy Petrel_ by the purest chance a few months ago. Here it comes. Put your hand before your eyes, sweetheart. Oh, G.o.d, that they may see us!"

Swiftly it pa.s.sed across the great desert of waters, and reached us. We seemed suddenly bathed in a blinding glare of white light, and, notwithstanding our anxiety, were forced to cover our eyes. There was a moment's suspense. Then the sound of a cannon came booming across the sea, and a rocket sped up into the air.

"Thank G.o.d! thank G.o.d!" my lover cried, "they have seen us. Look up, Margharita! They are more than a mile away now, but they will be here in a quarter of an hour. We are saved!"

He was right. In less than that time a boat from the _Stormy Petrel_ had picked us up, and we were standing in for land, firing rockets all the way to announce the news to Lord and Lady St. Maurice. So ended this, the most eventful day of my life.

And with its close has ended that sworn purpose which has brought me here. I, Margharita di Marioni, as one day I had hoped to call myself, am about to disgrace the traditions and honor of my race. I am going to break my faith with a suffering old man. I am going to tell my uncle that my hand can work no harm upon any of this family.

Before me here lies his answer to my letter--my confession to him. How he trusts me, when even now he never doubts.

"MARGHARITA,--I have received your letter, and I have pondered over it.

You are young to have such a sorrow, yet I do not doubt but that you will act as becomes your race. You can never think of marriage with this man; you a Marioni, he a St. Maurice! Yet I grieve that you have let such a feeling steal into your heart. Pluck it out, Margharita, I charge you; pluck it out by the roots! Think not of the wrong done to me, or, if you do, think of me not as a man and your uncle, but as Count Leonardo di Marioni, the head of my family, the head of your family. We have been the victims, but the day of our vengeance is at hand. There is no life without its sorrows, child! In the days to come, happiness will teach you to forget this one.

"Farewell, my child. I shall send you no more notes. Write or come to me the moment the deed is done! Come to me, if you can; I would hear your own lips tell me the news. Yet do as seems best to you. In sympathy and love,

"L. di M.

"One word more, child. Do not for a moment imagine that I blame you for what has happened. Old man though I am, I too know something of the marvels and the vagaries of this same love. Will can have little to do with its course. I, who have suffered so deeply, Margharita, can and do sympathize and feel for you."

This is the letter. I shall seal it up with the others, and this little record of my life, on the last page of which I am now writing. When I leave here they will go with me.

Yes, it is the dawn of a new day. Shall I ever see another, I wonder? I think not! For me, no longer will the sun rise and set, the breezes blow, and the earth be fair and sweet. All these things might have been so much to me, for I have held in my hand the key to an everlasting happiness--that deathless love which opens the gates to heaven; which sanctifies life and hallows death. Oh! forgive me that I leave you, my love! There was no other way. Only I pray that in that other world we may meet again in the days to come, and that the music of our love may ring once more through heart and soul. Farewell! Farewell!