Gordon Craig Part 35

"I am a woman," she said at last, "and we like to pretend to misunderstand, but I am not going to yield to that inclination. I do understand, and will answer frankly. We can never be friends as we were before."

My heart sank, and I felt a choke in my voice difficult to overcome.

"I was afraid it would be so."

"Yes," and both her hands were upon mine, "in our position we cannot afford to play at cross purposes. You have been loyal to me, even when every inducement was offered elsewhere. There was a moment when I almost doubted, but it was only for a moment. Then I seemed to sense your plan, your purpose, and from that time on I have trusted you more completely than ever before. This is confessing a great deal, for it is my nature to be reticent--I have always been hard to become acquainted with."

"I have not found you so; I feel as though I had known you always."

"That comes from the peculiarity of our first meeting, the unconventional manner in which we were brought together. I was not my natural self that night, nor have I ever been able since to feel toward you as I have in my relations with other men. Indeed I have been so frank spoken, so careless of social forms, as to make you question in your own mind my real womanhood."

"No; never that!" I protested.

"Oh, but you have," and she laughed softly, a faint trace of bitterness in the sound. "You need not deny, for I have read the truth in your face, yet without resentment. Why should you not, indeed? No man would wish his sister to take the chances I have with an absolute stranger. My only excuse is the seeming necessity, and the confidence I felt in my own strength of character. I permitted myself to come South with you, knowing your purpose to be an illegal one; I placed myself in a false position. In doing this I was actuated by two purposes; one was to save this property which had been willed to my husband by his father. Do you guess the other?"

"No," I said, impressed by the earnestness with which she was speaking.

"You will tell me?"

"I mean to; the time has come when I should. It was that I might save you from a crime. You had been kind to me, sympathetic; I--I liked you very much, and I knew you did not understand; that you were being misled. I could not determine then where the fraud was, but I knew there was fraud, and that you would eventually become its victim."

"You cared that much for me?"

"Yes," she confessed frankly, "I did. I would never have told you so under ordinary conditions. But I can now, here, where we are--alone together in this boat." She paused, as though endeavoring to choose the proper words. "We both realize the changed relations between us."

I drew a quick, startled breath.

"That--that I love you!" the exclamation left my lips before I was aware.

"Yes," she said calmly. "I could not help that. At first I never deemed such a result of our friends.h.i.+p possible. I was Philip Henley's wife, and I gave this possible danger scarcely a thought. Indeed it did not seem a danger. While it is true he was husband in name only, yet I was wife forever. That is my religion. Now the conditions are all changed, instantly changed by his death."

"You believe then he is dead?"

"I am as sure of it as though I had seen his body. I feel it to be true." There was an instant of hesitation, while I waited breathlessly. "Do you understand now why because of the fact we can no longer remain friends?"

"Yes," I burst forth, "because you know how I have grown to feel toward you; you--you resent--"

"Have I said so?"

"No, not in words; that was not necessary, but I understand."

"Do you, indeed?"

I stared toward her, puzzled, bewildered, yet conscious that the hot blood was surging through my veins.

"You cannot mean the other?" I questioned, the swift words tripping over themselves in sudden eagerness. "That--that you love me?"

"And why not? Am I so different from other women?"

I held the tiller still with one hand, but the other arm was free, and I reached out, and drew her toward me. There was no resistance, no effort to break away. I could see her face uplifted, the wide-open eyes.

"Different! Yes; so vastly different, that I misunderstood everything.

But now I know, and--and sweetheart, I love you, I love you."

It could not have been long, not to exceed a moment or two, when a sudden leaping of the boat brought us back to a realization of our position. As soon as I had regained control of the craft, I reached out again and touched her hand.

"This is all so strange, so unexpected, I can scarcely comprehend what has occurred."

"Strange, yes, in the way it has happened," she coincided. "But we cannot afford to dwell upon that now. We are in peril. Do you really know where we are? for what you are steering?"

"It is largely a guess; there is nothing to give me guidance, except as I unscrew the face of this compa.s.s and feel the needle."

"Then we may still be within view from the deck of the _Sea Gull_ at daybreak?"

"Yes; that will depend entirely upon luck."

She turned away, and sat quiet, staring forward intently into the black void.

"What time is it now?"

"Nearly three."

"In two hours it will be dawn."

"Yes."

I thought I could see her clasp her hands together; then suddenly lean forward.

"Why, look there!" she exclaimed quickly. "See! to the right.

Merciful Heavens! it is a s.h.i.+p!"

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

THE REVENUE CUTTER

The vision, indistinct in the gloom, was blotted out from me by the intervening sail. It was only as I leaned well to one side that I could distinguish the dim outlines. By that time we were almost upon it, and I could only sheer away to avoid collision. It was hard to determine the nature of the vessel, the sides looming so close above us, but it was not the _Sea Gull_. I was certain of that from the height of the rail, and the outline of a square foresail showing dimly against the sky. From p.o.o.p to bow there was not a light visible, and the hull moved through the water like that of a spectral s.h.i.+p.

Apparently we were unnoticed, and as the stretch of water widened slightly between us, I called out:

"Ahoy there! Take us aboard!"

I shouted twice, before a head popped over the rail, and stared down in apparent amazement.

"Hullo, the boat! Who are you? What do you want?"

"Small boat adrift; two pa.s.sengers; throw us a rope."

"All right; standby!"