Sword Blades and Poppy Seed Part 12

37

Two years had made Christine a woman grown, With dignity and gently certain pride.

But all her childhood fancies had not flown, Her thoughts in lovely dreamings seemed to glide.

Max was her trusted friend, did she confess A closer happiness? Max could not tell.

Two years were over and his life he found Sphered and complete. In restless eagerness He waited for the "Horn of Fortune". Well Had he his promise kept, abating not one pound.

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Spring slipped away to Summer. Still no gla.s.s Sighted the brigantine. Then Grootver came Demanding Jufvrouw Kurler. His trespa.s.s Was justified, for he had won the game.

Christine begged time, more time! Midsummer went, And Grootver waxed impatient. Still the s.h.i.+p Tarried. Christine, betrayed and weary, sank To dreadful terrors. One day, crazed, she sent For Max. "Come quickly," said her note, "I skip The worst distress until we meet. The world is blank."

39

Through the long suns.h.i.+ne of late afternoon Max went to her. In the pleached alley, lost In bitter reverie, he found her soon.

And sitting down beside her, at the cost Of all his secret, "Dear," said he, "what thing So suddenly has happened?" Then, in tears, She told that Grootver, on the following morn, Would come to marry her, and shuddering: "I will die rather, death has lesser fears."

Max felt the shackles drop from the oath which he had sworn.

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"My Dearest One, the hid joy of my heart!

I love you, oh! you must indeed have known.

In strictest honour I have played my part; But all this misery has overthrown My scruples. If you love me, marry me Before the sun has dipped behind those trees.

You cannot be wed twice, and Grootver, foiled, Can eat his anger. My care it shall be To pay your father's debt, by such degrees As I can compa.s.s, and for years I've greatly toiled.

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This is not haste, Christine, for long I've known My love, and silence forced upon my lips.

I wors.h.i.+p you with all the strength I've shown In keeping faith." With pleading finger tips He touched her arm. "Christine! Beloved! Think.

Let us not tempt the future. Dearest, speak, I love you. Do my words fall too swift now?

They've been in leash so long upon the brink."

She sat quite still, her body loose and weak.

Then into him she melted, all her soul at flow.

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And they were married ere the westering sun Had disappeared behind the garden trees.

The evening poured on them its benison, And flower-scents, that only night-time frees, Rose up around them from the beamy ground, Silvered and shadowed by a tranquil moon.

Within the arbour, long they lay embraced, In such enraptured sweetness as they found Close-partnered each to each, and thinking soon To be enwoven, long ere night to morning faced.

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At last Max spoke, "Dear Heart, this night is ours, To watch it pale, together, into dawn, Pressing our souls apart like opening flowers Until our lives, through quivering bodies drawn, Are mingled and confounded. Then, far spent, Our eyes will close to undisturbed rest.

For that desired thing I leave you now.

To pinnacle this day's accomplishment, By telling Grootver that a bootless quest Is his, and that his schemes have met a knock-down blow."

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But Christine clung to him with sobbing cries, Pleading for love's sake that he leave her not.

And wound her arms about his knees and thighs As he stood over her. With dread, begot Of Grootver's name, and silence, and the night, She shook and trembled. Words in moaning plaint Wooed him to stay. She feared, she knew not why, Yet greatly feared. She seemed some anguished saint Martyred by visions. Max Breuck soothed her fright With wisdom, then stepped out under the cooling sky.

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But at the gate once more she held him close And quenched her heart again upon his lips.

"My Sweetheart, why this terror? I propose But to be gone one hour! Evening slips Away, this errand must be done." "Max! Max!

First goes my father, if I lose you now!"

She grasped him as in panic lest she drown.

Softly he laughed, "One hour through the town By moonlight! That's no place for foul attacks.

Dearest, be comforted, and clear that troubled brow.

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One hour, Dear, and then, no more alone.

We front another day as man and wife.

I shall be back almost before I'm gone, And midnight shall anoint and crown our life."

Then through the gate he pa.s.sed. Along the street She watched his b.u.t.tons gleaming in the moon.

He stopped to wave and turned the garden wall.

Straight she sank down upon a mossy seat.

Her senses, mist-encircled by a swoon, Swayed to unconsciousness beneath its wreathing pall.

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Briskly Max walked beside the still ca.n.a.l.

His step was firm with purpose. Not a jot He feared this meeting, nor the rancorous gall Grootver would spit on him who marred his plot.

He dreaded no man, since he could protect Christine. His wife! He stopped and laughed aloud.

His starved life had not fitted him for joy.

It strained him to the utmost to reject Even this hour with her. His heart beat loud.

"d.a.m.n Grootver, who can force my time to this employ!"

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He laughed again. What boyish uncontrol To be so racked. Then felt his ticking watch.

In half an hour Grootver would know the whole.

And he would be returned, lifting the latch Of his own gate, eager to take Christine And crush her to his lips. How bear delay?

He broke into a run. In front, a line Of candle-light banded the cobbled street.

Hilverd.i.n.k's tavern! Not for many a day Had he been there to take his old, accustomed seat.