The White Virgin Part 49

"I don't know what plans the man is going to propose, but you had better come up, my dear boy, and be present. I daresay you will do more good here than by staying down there watching and keeping those people up to their work."

So wrote the old family solicitor, and Clive's conscience smote him, as he recalled how little he had done, and how very small was the credit he deserved. For his days had been spent in that dreamy pleasure at the cottage, and for the most part the mine was forgotten.

But this letter had roused him to a sense of his duties, and, commending Dinah to her father's care, Clive departed once more for town, in happy unconsciousness of the fact that his every step was watched; while as his figure grew less and less as she watched him along the moorland track, Dinah's heart sank, and the old dread crept back at first like a faint mist, then growing more and more dense, until it was a black shadow between her and the suns.h.i.+ne of her life.

"But it will not be long--he will not be long, he said," she whispered to herself. "He will come back to-day."

That was on the following morning. But there was no Clive, and on the second morning she rose hopeful, saying the same words--"He will come to-day;" and she waited eagerly till toward evening, when the Major said suddenly--

"No message from Clive, pet. I thought we should have a telegram."

Dinah looked at him wistfully, and then her face brightened up.

"That means," said the Major, "that he is coming back to-night. Look here, my dear, I'll take the rod and get a brace or two of trout for his supper. There are four or five fine fellows in the lower pool, where I haven't been for months. You had better stop in case Clive comes."

Dinah's face clouded over again.

"Nothing to mind, my dear. I saw Robson this morning, and he told me that Jessop and that black scoundrel went up to town to the meeting the same day as Clive. I suppose they didn't meet in the train. If they did, I hope my dear boy turned them both out in the first tunnel they went through. There, I'm off."

The autumn evenings were upon them, and the sun dipped behind the crags of the millstone grit earlier now; and that evening, to prove the truth of the Major's prophecy, Clive Reed trudged over the hill track leading from Blinkdale past the `White Virgin' mine, where the roadway had been widened and fresh tram-lines laid, to meet the necessities of the vastly increased traffic. He frowned when he saw all this, for it jarred upon him that so much advance should have been made under other management; but the cloud pa.s.sed away, for he met a group of men returning from their work, to the cottages down in the valley--men for whom there was not room in the new buildings, or who preferred their old homes. These were for the most part known to him, and they greeted him with a friendly smile or touch of the cap as they pa.s.sed.

Clive longed to stop them and ask questions, but he felt that he could not stoop to a meanness, and he went on in the soft evening glow watching the golden-edged purple clouds in the west, across which the boldly marked rays of the sun struck up, growing fainter till they died away high up towards the zenith. There was a pleasant scent of dry thyme from the banks, and the familiar odour of the bracken as he crushed it beneath his feet, or brushed through it and the heather and gorse. Only a couple of miles farther and he would be pa.s.sing the spoil bank, and going along the rock shelf in the tunnel-like cutting, along by the perpendicular b.u.t.tress which stood out from the lead hills like a bold fortification. Then half a mile down and down to the river, where the lights from the cottage would strike out suddenly from the ravine garden, and he could steal up, and announce his coming.

He knew he would see the light, for it would be dark before he pa.s.sed the spoil bank, almost before he reached the entrance to the gap--the natural gateway to the `White Virgin' mine.

And how prosperous the place had proved! How correct the dear old dad had been! But how bitterly he would have resented Jessop's interference!

Clive laughed almost mockingly, as he thought of the vote of thanks to Mr Jessop Reed, carried at the meeting with acclaim, for the vast improvements he had made, and the increasing prosperity, all of which were, of course, the natural growth of his own beginnings.

"Never mind," he said directly after; "let the poor wretch enjoy the satisfaction of having tricked me. Better be Esau than Jacob, after all. But I knew that lode must prove of enormous value, and I get my share of the prosperity."

He walked on more rapidly, but with a free, easy swing, enjoying the fresh mountain air, so bracing after the stuffy heat of the sun-baked London streets. The heavens had grown grey in the west, and it was as if a soft dark veil were being drawn over the sky, where from time to time a pale star twinkled, disappeared, and came into sight again.

Then the gap was reached, and a strong desire came over him to go down and look about to see how the place appeared, for the chances were that he would not be heeded. But no: he resisted the desire. His brother and Sturgess might be back, and staying late at the office, when a meeting would probably lead to a fierce quarrel.

"Just when I want to be calm and happy, ready to take my darling in my arms," he said softly. "Poor Janet! I thought I loved you very dearly, but I did not know then that my fancy for the poor, weak, unhappy girl was not love."

He walked faster, for it was as if there was a magnet at the cottage, and its attractive power was growing stronger as he went along the shelf path, round by the spoil bank, and on in the darkness to the path notched in the perpendicular side of the rugged hill.

"Just the time for a cigarette," he said; and he took one, replaced his case, and then taking advantage of the sheltered tunnel close by the cavernous part where Sturgess had watched and waited for his return, he prepared to light up in the still calm air away from the brisk breeze outside.

The box was in his hand; he had taken out a little wax match to strike, when he stopped short as if turned to stone, for there, close by him, he heard in a low murmur--

"Yes, I knew that you would come."

Dinah's voice; and as he struck the match and it flashed out into a vivid glare, there, within two yards, she stood clasped tightly in his brother Jessop's arms.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

DIVIDED.

Jessop started aside in abject fear, and made a rush to escape by pa.s.sing his brother in the narrow path, but, with a cry of rage, Clive struck at him.

The blow was ineffective to a certain extent, but was sufficient to make Jessop stumble and fall forward heavily. Before, however, his brother could seize him, he had scrambled up and ran along that shelf-like path as if for his life, while, as Clive started in pursuit, mad almost with despair and rage, a low, piteous, sobbing cry arrested him, and he turned back into the dark tunnel with his temples throbbing, his eyes feeling as if on fire, and a strange mad desire to kill thrilling every nerve.

"Clive, Clive! what have I done!" came out of the darkness; and quick as lightning his arms went out, and he caught the speaker savagely by the shoulders, his hands closing violently upon the soft yielding muscles, and then falling helplessly to his sides, as if that touch had discharged every particle of force with which he was throbbing.

"Clive," she cried; "I thought--your message--oh, speak to me."

"Silence!" he cried, in a low harsh voice, which made her tremble. But the next moment, wild with excitement--and as they stood there in the darkness, face to face, but invisible one to the other--she stepped towards him, and caught his arm in turn.

"Clive, dear," she cried wildly. "Oh, for G.o.d's sake, speak to me! You don't think--"

"Think!" he cried, with a furious, mocking laugh. "Yes, I think all women are alike--a curse to the man who is idiot enough to believe."

She drew a long, sobbing breath as she shrank from him now, the words of explanation which had leaped to her lips checked on the instant by the shame and indignation with which she was filled; and the next moment she was like stone in her despair.

"I am sorry that I returned so soon," he said, in a bitter, sneering tone; "but I have some respect for the poor old Major--even now. Come back."

She did not speak, but he could hear her breath come in a short, quick, catching way.

"You hear me?" he said harshly. "Come back to your father now; but don't speak to me, or the mad feeling may rise again. I cannot answer for myself."

"Take me home," she said, in tones that he did not recognise as hers, and once more the furious rage within him flashed up like fire, as in his wild, jealous indignation he cried--

"And him of all men. Quick! Back to the cottage first."

He caught her wrist now so fiercely that the pain was almost unbearable, but she did not shrink. The suffering seemed to clear her brain, and in a flash she saw a horror that made her tremble.

"Clive," she cried excitedly, "what are you going to do?"

He laughed bitterly.

"Perhaps what you think," he said. "Likely enough. What should the man do to one who robs him twice. Why not? There is not room for two such brothers upon earth."

She panted to speak, but no words came for a time, as with her wrist prisoned with a grasp of iron, she let him lead her back toward the cottage half a mile away--out now from the rock cutting, to where the stars shone down upon them with their calm, peaceful glimmer, as if there were no such thing as human pa.s.sion upon earth.

At last she spoke.

"Clive, you will not hear me," she pleaded now, as her womanly indignation was swept away by the great horror she saw looming up before her.

"No," he said, "I will not hear you. I know enough. Are you trembling for your lover's life?"

"Oh!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, and she made an effort to s.n.a.t.c.h away her wrist; but the ring around it grew tighter as they walked on now in silence, till in her dread, as the icy perspiration gathered upon her forehead, she stopped short and faced him.

"I would not speak," she said, in a low hurried voice. "You should go on thinking me everything that was false and bad. I would not say a word to show how you are misjudging me."

He laughed scornfully.