Читать книгу The Obstacle Race - Ethel M. Dell - Страница 12

She covered her emotion with the most herculean efforts at gaiety. She laughed very shakily at the solicitude expressed by Columbus, and told him tremulously how absurd and ridiculous he was to make such a fuss about nothing.

After this, feeling a little better, she ventured a glance at her companion. He was on his feet and wiping his forehead—a man of medium height and no great breadth of shoulder, but evidently well knit and athletic. Becoming by some means aware of her attention, he put away his handkerchief and turned towards her. She saw his eyes gleam under black, mobile brows that seemed to denote a considerable sense of humour. The whole of his face held an astonishing amount of vitality, but the lips were straight and rather hard, so clean-cut as to be almost ascetic. He looked to her like a man who would suffer to the utmost, but never lose his self-control. And she thought she read a pride more than ordinary in the cast of his features—a man capable of practically anything save the asking or receiving of favours.

Then he spoke, and curiously all criticism vanished. "I had better introduce myself," he said. "I'm afraid I've been unpardonably rude. My name is Green."

Green! The word darted at her like an imp of mischief. The romantic dropped to the prosaic with a suddenness that provoked in her an almost irresistible desire to laugh.

She controlled it swiftly, but she was fully aware that she had not hidden it as she rose to her feet and offered her hand to her cavalier.

"How do you do, Mr. Green? My name is Moore—Miss Moore. Will you allow me to thank you for saving my life?"

Her voice throbbed a little; tears and laughter were almost equally near the surface at that moment. She was extremely disgusted with herself for her lack of composure.

Then again, as his hand grasped hers, she forgot to criticize. "I say, please don't!" he said. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything. It was jolly plucky of you to stand your ground with those hooligans from the mine."

"But I didn't stand my ground," she pointed out. "I went over. It was a most undignified proceeding, wasn't it?"

"No, it wasn't," he declared. "You did it awfully well. I wish I'd been nearer to you, but I couldn't possibly get up in time."

"Oh, I think you were more useful where you were," she said, "thank you all the same. I must have gone clean to the bottom otherwise. I thought I had."

She caught back an involuntary shudder, and in a moment the hand that held hers closed unceremoniously and drew her further from the edge of the cliff.

"You are sure you are none the worse, now?" he said. "Not giddy or anything?"

"No, not anything," she said.

But she was glad of his hold none the less, and he seemed to know it, for he kept her hand firmly clasped.

"You must let me see you back," he said. "Where are you staying?"

"At Mrs. Rickett's," she told him. "The village smithy, you know."

"I know," he said. "Down at Little Shale, you mean. You've come some way, haven't you?"

"It was such a lovely night," she said, "and Columbus wanted a walk. I got led on, I didn't know I was likely to meet anyone."

"It's the short cut to High Shale," he said. "There is always the chance of meeting these fellows along here. You'd be safer going the other way."

"But I like the furze bushes and the nightingale," she said regretfully, "and the exquisite wildness of it. It is not nearly so nice the other way."

He laughed. "No, but it's safer. Come this way as much as you like in the morning, but go the other way at night!"

He turned with the words, and began to lead her down the path. She went with him as one who responds instinctively to a power unquestioned. The magic of the night was closing about her again. She heard the voice of the nightingale thrilling through the silence.

"This is the most wonderful place I have ever seen," she said at last in a tone of awe.

"Is it?" he said.

His lack of enthusiasm surprised her. "Don't you think so too?" she said.

"Doesn't it seem wonderful to you?"

He glanced out to sea for a moment. "You see I live here," he said. "Yes, it's quite a beautiful place. But it isn't always like this. It's primitive. It can be savage. You wouldn't like it always."

"I'm thinking of settling down here all the same," said Juliet.

He stopped short in the path. "Are you really?"

She nodded with a smile. "You seem surprised. Why shouldn't I? Isn't there room for one more?"

"Oh, plenty of room," he said, and walked on again as abruptly as he had paused.

The path became wider and more level, and he relinquished her hand. "You won't stay," he said with conviction.

"I wonder," said Juliet.

"Of course you won't!" A hint of vehemence crept into his speech. "When the nightingales have left off singing, and the wild roses are over, you'll go."

"You seem very sure of that," said Juliet.

"Yes, I am sure." He spoke uncompromisingly, almost contemptuously, she thought.

"You evidently don't stay here because you like it," she said.

"My work is here," he returned noncommittally. She wondered a little, but something held her back from pursuing the matter. She walked several paces in silence. Then, "I wish I could find work here," she said, in her slow deep voice. "It would do me a lot of good."

"Would it?" He turned towards her. "But that isn't what you came for—not to find work, I mean?"

"Well, no—not primarily." She made the admission almost guiltily. "But I think everyone ought to be able to earn a livelihood, don't you?"

"It's safer certainly," he said. "But it isn't everyone that is qualified for it."

"No?" Her voice was whimsical. "And you think I shall seek in vain for any suitable niche here?"

"It depends upon what your capabilities are," he said.

"My capabilities!" She laughed, a soft, low laugh. "Columbus! What are my capabilities!"

They had reached a railing and a gate across the path leading down to the village. Columbus, waiting to go through, wriggled in a manner that expressed his entire ignorance on the subject. Juliet leaned against the gate with her face to the western sky.

"My capabilities!" she mused. "Let me see! What can I do?" She looked at her companion with a smile. "I am afraid I shall have to refer you to Lady Joanna Farringmore. She can tell you—exactly."

He made a slight movement of surprise. "You know the Farringmore family?"

She raised her brows a little. "Yes. Do you?"

"By hearsay only. Lord Wilchester owns the High Shale Mines. I have never met any of them." He spoke without enthusiasm.

"And never want to?" she suggested. "I quite understand. I am very tired of them myself just now—most especially of Lady Joanna. But perhaps it is rather bad taste to say so, as I have been brought up as her companion from childhood."

"And now you have left her?" he said.

"Yes I have left her. I have disapproved of her for some time," Juliet spoke thoughtfully. "She is very unconventional, you know. And I—well, at heart I fancy I must be rather a prude. Anyhow, I disapproved, more and more strongly, and at last I came away."

"That was rather brave of you," he commented.

"Oh, it wasn't much of a sacrifice. I've got a little money—enough to keep me from starvation; but not enough to buy me cigarettes—at least not the kind I like." Juliet's smile was one of friendly confidence. "I think it's about my only real vice, and I've never been used to inferior ones. Do you mind telling me where you get yours?"

He smiled back at her as he felt for his cigarette-case. "You had better try one and make sure you like them before you get any."

"Oh, I know I should like them," she said, "thank you very much. No, don't give me one! I feel as if I've begged for it. But just tell me where you get them, and if they're not too expensive I'll buy some to try."

He held the open cigarette-case in front of her. "Won't you honour me by accepting one?" he said.

She hesitated, and then in a moment very charmingly she yielded. "Thank you—Mr. Green. I seem to have accepted a good deal from you to-night. Thank you very much."

He made her a slight bow. "It has been my privilege to serve you," he said. "I hope I may have further opportunities of being of use. I can get you these cigarettes at any time if you like them. But they are not obtainable locally."

"Not!" Her face fell. "How disappointing!"

"Not from my point of view," he said. "There's no difficulty about it. I can get them for you if you will allow me."

He struck a match for her, and kindled a cigarette for himself also.

Juliet inhaled a deep breath. "They are lovely," she said. "I knew I should like them when you went past Mrs. Rickett's smoking one."

He looked at her with amusement. "When was that?"

"When I was waiting for that dreadful ginger pudding at lunch—I mean dinner." She paused. "No, that's horrid of me. Please consider it unsaid!"

"Why shouldn't you say it if you think it?" he asked.

"Because it's unkind. Mrs. Rickett is the soul of goodness. And I am going to learn to like her ginger pudding—and her dumplings—and everything that is hers."

"How heroic of you! I wonder if you will succeed."

"Of course I shall succeed," Juliet spoke with confidence as she turned to pass through the gate. "I am going to cultivate a contented mind here. And when I go back to Lady Jo—if I ever do—I shall be proof against anything."

He reached forward to open the gate. "I think you will probably go back long before the contented mind has begun to sprout," he said.

She laughed as she walked on down the path. "But it has begun already. I haven't felt so cheerful for a long time."

"That isn't real contentment," he pointed out. "It's your spirit of adventure enjoying itself. Wait till you begin to be bored!"

"How extremely analytical!" she remarked. "I am not going to be bored. My spirit of adventure is not at all an enterprising one. I assure you I didn't enjoy that tumble over the cliff in the least. I am a very quiet person by nature." She began to laugh. "You must have noticed I wasn't very intrepid in the face of danger. I seem to remember your telling me not to be silly."

"I hoped you had forgiven and forgotten that," he said.

"Neither one nor the other," she answered, checking her mirth. "I think you would have been absolutely justified in using even stronger language under the circumstances. You wouldn't have saved me if you hadn't been—very firm."

"Very brutal, you mean. No, I ought to have managed better. I will next time." He spoke with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness in his words.

"When will that be?" said Juliet.

"I don't know. But I can make the way down much easier. The steps are a simple matter, and I have often thought a charge of gunpowder would improve that bit where the rock hangs over. If I hadn't wanted to keep the place to myself I should have done it long ago. It certainly is dangerous now to anyone who doesn't know."

Juliet came to a sudden halt in the path. "Oh, you are an engineer!" she said. "I hope you will not spoil your favourite eyrie just because I may some day fall over into it again. The chance is a very remote one, I assure you. Now, please don't come any farther with me! It has only just dawned on me that your way probably lies in the direction of the mines. I shouldn't have let you come so far if I had realized it sooner."

He looked momentarily surprised. "But I do live in this direction," he said. "In any case, I hope you will allow me to see you safely back."

"But there is no need," she protested. "We are practically there. Do you really live this way?"

"Yes. Quite close to the worthy Mrs. Rickett too. I am not an engineer. I am the village schoolmaster."

He announced the fact with absolute directness. It was Juliet's turn to look surprised. She almost gasped.

"You—you!"

"Yes, I. Why not?" He met her look of astonishment with a smile. "Have I given you a shock?"

She recovered herself with an answering smile. "No, of course not. I might have guessed. I wonder I didn't."

"But how could you guess?" he questioned. "Have I the manners of a pedagogue?"

"No," she said again. "No, of course not. Only—I have been hearing a good deal about you to-day; not in your capacity of schoolmaster, but as—Brother Dick."

"Ah!" he said sharply, and just for a moment she thought he was either embarrassed or annoyed, but whatever the feeling he covered it instantly. "You have talked to my brother Robin?"

"Yes," she said. "He is the only person I have talked to besides Mrs.

Rickett. We met on the shore."

"I hope he behaved himself," he said. "You weren't afraid of him, I hope."

"No; poor lad! Why should I be?" Juliet spoke very gently, very pitifully. "I have a feeling that Robin and I are going to be friends," she said.

"You are very good," he said, in a low voice. "He hasn't many friends, poor chap. But he's very faithful to those he's got. Most people are so revolted by his appearance that they never get any farther. And he's shy too—very naturally. How did he come to speak to you?"

She hesitated. "It was I who spoke first," she said, in a moment.

"Really! What made you do that?"

She hesitated again.

He looked at her with sudden attention. "He did something that made you speak. What was it, please?"

His tone was peremptory, almost curt, Juliet hesitated no longer.

"Do you mind if I don't answer that question?" she said.

"He will tell me if you don't," he returned, with a certain hardness that made her wonder if he were angered by her refusal.

"That wouldn't be fair of you," she said gently, "when I specially don't want you to know."

"You don't want me to know?" he said.

"I should tell you myself if I did," she pointed out.

"I see." He reflected for a moment; then: "Will you promise to tell me if he ever does it again?" he said.

Juliet laughed with a feeling of almost inordinate relief. "Yes, certainly. I know he never will."

"Then that's the end of that," he said.

"Thank you," said Juliet.

They had reached the road that turned up to the village, and the light from a large lamp some distance up the hill shone down upon them.

"That is where Mr. Fielding lives," said Green, as they walked towards it. "Those are his lodge-gates. No doubt you have heard of him too. He is the great man of the place. He owns it, in fact."

"Yes, I have heard of him," said Juliet. "Is he a nice man?"

He made an almost imperceptible movement of the shoulders. "I am very much indebted to him," he said.

"I see," said Juliet.

They reached the cottage-gate that led to the blacksmith's humble abode, and a smell of rank tobacco, floating forth, announced the fact that he was smoking his pipe in the porch.