JUSTIN GOES AWAY
The following morning Rees came out of his room at dawn; he wore his
riding suit, and, with a long look towards Iris’s door, made his way
quietly out of the house. He walked a couple of miles along the road
leading to the junction, then he turned into a prosperous looking farm
and walked up a long avenue of pines. A stout middle-aged man met him
at the gate leading into the garden, and said cheerily, “Good morning
to you; Mr. Rees. Prince is all ready for you, I got your message last
night--got up and fed him myself this morning; but come inside and have
a bit of breakfast before you start.” And he led his early visitor
with undisguised pleasure through a long wide hall into the big bright
kitchen, where an appetising breakfast had already been cooked. The
room was filled with the delicious odours of hot coffee, newly baked
bread, eggs and bacon. The family and farm hands were already seated
at the table and Rees was given a seat beside the eldest daughter, a
pretty pink-and-white girl of eighteen, who looked with unmistakable
admiration at the new-comer.
The meal was a pleasant one. The boys made fresh innocent jokes and the
girls laughed heartily. The merriment of healthy buoyant youth flowed
round the driver, yet it failed to draw him into its invigorating
stream. He was glad when breakfast was over and he was free to mount
the beautiful black thoroughbred he had ridden at the sports. He
patted the sleek shiny neck where Iris had stroked it that day, then,
once more thanking his host for the loan of the lovely animal, swung
gracefully into the saddle.
“Never mind,” the genial farmer responded, “I don’t want any thanks; if
there is any thanking to be done I guess it ought to be on our side; we
haven’t forgotten what you did for Rob last year, nor your many other
kindnesses. You are welcome to Prince, my boy, for as long as you like;
though I may as well tell you I would not lend him to any one else in
the world.”
As Rees rode away under the pines the eldest daughter stood by the
window in the front parlour and watched his slim strong figure with
glowing eyes and round burning cheeks. “He will have to bring Prince
back,” she said to herself, “and then perhaps he will stay a little
longer. He was evidently in a hurry this morning, but when he comes
back----”
When Rees had left the farm he took a road leading to a chain of
mountains running at an angle to the great blue western ridges. The
black thoroughbred cantered up narrow tracks on wild tangled hills,
found his way carefully down precipitous paths, climbed higher ascents.
Always the track rose till at last after several hours’ journey they
reached one of the low shoulders of the mountains jutting out above a
wide, deep, thickly wooded gully, where a cataract roared more than a
thousand feet below the narrow unfenced path.
There were no trees at this height and the steep slopes leading to the
rocky crags just above were covered with green and bronze sedges, now
rustling significantly in the light swift breeze.
The sky was vivid, and the sunlight pouring down over the mountainous
world revealed every crack and wrinkle on the great massive stones,
rising in sharp, audacious contours against the opal blue heavens.
Prince was hot, so Justin jumped out of the saddle to give him a rest.
The horse looked round at the austere scenery about him, sniffed in
the cool invigorating breeze, glanced back at his rider, and began to
nibble daintily among the rough shaggy sedges.
Rees threw himself at full length on the sloping ground. How lonely,
how wild it was up here among the barren dauntless peaks, with the roar
of water ascending from the huge gaping valley and the loud rustle of
the harsh reeds about him. It seemed as if he had strayed far beyond
the safe haunts of men into some strange realm where Nature is no
longer shy, lisping in unobtrusive whispers, afraid to be heard by
men; but where it was unreserved, forward, speaking in loud passionate
tones, laying bare its savage emotions, its wild, indomitable strength,
staring at him with wide, bold, fearless eyes.
Something came suddenly between him and the sun. He glanced up
wonderingly, knowing it could not be a cloud. Just above him was a
great eagle, his pinions outspread, gliding silently towards one of
the sharp splintered crags.
He watched the majestic bird for a moment, then he looked far down in
the direction of the township he had left that morning; but the safe
little clustering haven was completely blotted out by the stern rocky
crest he had mounted.
Prince stopped nibbling at the dried-up grass growing scantily between
the rustling sedges. He came over to Rees slowly, and put a soft muzzle
down to his shoulder, as if he felt lonely in this immense solitude
and wanted companionship. Justin rose wearily and began to stroke the
glossy coat. Then he put his hand over the satin neck and laid his pale
face against the spot where Iris’s cheek had once rested. He closed his
eyes and tried to imagine he was living again the dear day when he and
Iris had patted Prince side by side.
He had left her. What would she say when she heard he had gone? Miss
Smith would be sure to tell her during the day. What a brute she must
think him! How he had made her suffer! Her pale sweet face with its
shadowy eyes had clearly shown him all she was passing through. Seeing
her pain had been his worst torture--but in Heaven’s name, what else
_could_ he do? Surely it would be a thousand times more cruel, more
dastardly selfish, to allow her to link her life to his. He had been
torn asunder with misgivings when her large glistening eyes with their
silent yearning appeal had met his. It had maddened him to distraction
to be forced to go on wounding her by denying all she asked by her mute
sorrowful glances. His own longings for her had become unendurable,
and, added to that passionate anguish, was the torture of seeing the
girl he loved constantly in the society of another man; always at
his side, at table, in the car for long excursions, in the house,
talking, walking together, spending long cosy evenings in their private
sitting-room. In spite of his noble resolutions, his fine reasonings,
the sight of that wakened a fierce jealousy within him. He was willing
to give up his own happiness, all his claims upon her life for her
ultimate good; and he might have endured it perhaps if she had left him
at once and her friendship with another man could have been unfolded
somewhere else. But to be daily, almost hourly, called upon to see all
her time spent with a rival had become so unbearable that he could
neither eat nor sleep, but was driven into a frenzied despair. He felt
his physical strength ebbing. He knew he could not endure the strain
much longer, and it was the consciousness of this which had made him
ask Miss Smith for a short holiday to go to a neighbouring township.
He must have respite or lose his reason. Now he was on his way for his
holiday. But oh, what a hollow mockery it was! The phantoms of Iris
beside the other man pursued him; they came with him, and in addition
his own heart ached with a crushing pain to be near again.
As he stood beside the docile thoroughbred he was seized with a fierce
longing to return,--a longing so forcible that it almost dragged him
back in spite of himself; and it was only by a sudden, swift mounting
into the saddle and starting quickly on his way that he conquered it.
He arrived at the other township in the middle of the day and inquired
for the boarding-house he had heard was there; but to his dismay
he was told it was closed, and that there were only two hotels for
accommodating visitors. A little reluctantly he made his way to the
better one, and as he did so it seemed as if he saw Iris’s eyes looking
at him, large, horrified. But he could not draw back now.
He engaged a room, and went to the dining-hall for lunch. As he walked
down the passage he noticed a door on the left on which the significant
word “Bar” was painted in thick black letters. He finished his meal and
then began to wonder what he should do with himself for the rest of the
day. He felt restless and lonely. How he missed the sight of Iris at
the far-off table! How foolish he had been to leave her! Where could
he go--what could he do? Once more he made his way through the front
passage. But this time the door with the fatal word upon it was half
open and the scent of liquor had crept into the hall.
One whiff of those ghastly odours and his old thirst leapt upon him.
It seemed as if it had decoyed him away from Iris, away from his place
of shelter, to spring upon him here far from all that upheld and
restrained him. An ashen look came over his face. He passed the door
and strode swiftly away. But though the fumes were out of the air, they
had not been swept out of his senses. In his mind the odours hung like
a heavy fog on a winter day. They clung close, insidiously spreading
to every cell of his brain, to every nerve in his body, till his whole
being was one mad, burning craving for the drink, beckoning him from
behind the half-opened door.
He felt suddenly ill and giddy. _One_ agonised yearning had seemed
intolerable; but _two_ such fiery longings--one in his heart, the other
scorching every nerve in his body--were past endurance! If only he had
been near Iris--if only he could have gone and told her what he was
suffering, there might have been hope then. One cooling touch of her
hand, one loving, encouraging look from her eyes and he might have
been saved. But now---- He hurried down the road as one in a frenzy.
A sudden impulse came to him to spring on Prince and gallop back to
safety as fast as the horse could carry him. But the thoroughbred had
already done a long distance and it was cruel to take him back without
a proper rest. Besides--there was Captain Barton. He would still be
there with Iris when he returned. No, he could not go back; that was
out of the question. He must stay and fight the temptation alone.
He walked about the district all the afternoon and did not return to
the hotel till dinner-time. He plunged past the bar door; it was still
open. In the dining-room he ordered the first thing he saw on the menu,
drank cup after cup of strong tea--but the tea could not allay his
mad craving; it only seemed to increase it. He could hardly swallow
the food on his plate, but he forced himself to eat some of it. Then
at last he rose from his chair, a deadly sinking in his heart at the
thought of what awaited him in the hall.
One more desperate struggle and he passed the door. But only to sink
down on a bench in the verandah outside the bar window. His craving
had him in its relentless grip now, it made ferocious assaults upon
his will. His powers of resistance were ebbing away. He could not hold
out much longer. After battling all the afternoon with the remorseless
desire he was weak with the struggle, the aimless walking, and the
terrible strain he had undergone. He was white to the lips, his face
worked. Men passed by him. They were joking and laughing as they made
their way into the large room behind him. Some awful power seemed to
lift him from the seat and drag him after them. He gripped the back of
the bench as if imploring it to save him. But the wood had no power to
hold him. He fought desperately, for the issues of this struggle were
stupendous. Iris respected him now, she loved him. But if he fell again
she would turn from him in loathing and disgust. Of course she could
never be his, but he could not bear that she should regard him as an
abhorrent and revolting thing, and she would naturally do so if he fell
so soon after his arms had held her, and the lips which burnt now for
the insidious thing had clung to hers.
He ground his teeth in agony.
How long he sat there on the bench he did not know. It seemed to him an
eternity. Darkness had long ago stolen over the township. Then all at
once some one opened the window behind him.
As the subtle odours sprang out upon him he rose. His resolve was
made. He would take the consequences, but he must have the drink he
craved. All the fighting within had ceased and he walked with calm
dignity towards the fateful door. His old enemy had won, he recognised
his defeat; so, with set face and slow step, he turned into the hall,
crossed the threshold and--entered the bar.