THE FAREWELL BY THE HUT
There dawned at last a day hotter and longer than any the summer yet
had sent. With break of morning banks of sullen clouds were rolling
out of the South into an empty sky. The sun sulked overhead, showing a
fitful fiery face, and the air rose steaming from the ground. Little
winds came out of the South, blew brief nervous breaths, and like silly
spendthrifts wore themselves to death. Before evening was come, the
men and women of Surprise had stood again and again in their doorways
to eye the sky, to snuff the air, and to declare the rains must break
before morning.
In the teeth of these warnings, when afternoon wore out to evening, and
dark came down to shroud the stifled day, when in the high sky not one
star could find a porthole to look through, Power rode down to Pelican
Pool. Kaloona, as well as Surprise, had read the signs of the heavens,
and Power judged the storm would burst before dawn. Dark had fallen
half-an-hour when he guided his horse among the trees by the river.
He drew rein on the edge of the clearing in the timber, and from his
seat in the saddle looked across the open. Through the doorway of the
hut, in a long bright beam, the light came to divide the dark. Molly
sat upon a box in the doorway against a background of light. Black she
seemed, and around her was a radiance of light, and outside the light
waited the steaming dark. She sat in a reverie, her elbows on her
knees, her chin in her hands, and when the sounds of the horse reached
her, she gave no sign other than calling out, "Is that you, Jim?"
"Yes, Molly." Power took the saddle from his horse, and came into the
eye of the lamp. The hut was empty when he glanced inside. "Alone
to-night, Molly? Are they over at the shaft?"
"No, they went to Surprise this morning. They reckoned to be home by
dark. I thought you might be them. Maybe Dad is soaked. Mum takes a
drop times, too."
"They had better be back soon if they mean to be back dry. The rains
are here at last." A mutter of thunder began very far away. "Listen!"
Power took off his hat and tossed it on the table in the hut. His
dress was a shirt wide open at the neck, and his sleeves were rolled up
above his elbows. But the night grew hotter moment by moment. Molly,
on the box, kept her chin in her hands and stared out into the dark,
and he felt no more talkative than she. He leaned back against the
doorpost. As he did so a second mutter of thunder began very far away.
The trees were wrapped from sight in the dark. Not one star peered from
the sky.
"What's the matter, Molly? Have we left you too long alone? Your
little tongue has gone to sleep, thinking there was no more use for it
to-night." She did not answer, and he thought she shivered. He bent
down this time and spoke sharply. "What's making you shiver, child? You
have not a touch of fever, have you? You had better wrap up quick and
get away from the open."
"It isn't fever."
Something in her voice made him stoop down until they were face to
face. "What's the matter? You are changed to-night."
"Aw, nothing is the matter."
She would not look round, and must stare on into the dark. Power sat on
his heels on her right hand. He lit a pipe and waited for the strange
mood to pass away. He was damp with perspiration, and the sultriness of
the night rested on him like a weight. Then he heard a voice.
"The old dog died to-day."
"Bluey?"
"Yes, Bluey."
"Bad luck for Bluey. He was very old."
"I reckon I shall miss him."
"Did you bury him?"
"I couldn't find the shovel. I chucked him in the trees over there. Dad
can fix him to-morrow."
"Is that what you have been thinking of all to-night?"
She ignored him again. The light from the doorway showed every line of
her perfect profile, and by putting out a hand he could have touched
the hair lying about her brows. Though he looked upon her beauty every
night, he never found it grow less wonderful; but now he discovered
with a curious sense of shame that he contemplated it with the calm
born of dying passion. He would never see again so rare a work of art
as this casket, but alackaday! he had opened the lid, and the delicate
thing was empty.
"Jim, I was glad when you came along. It made me feel queer to leave
the old dog stretched out over there. Do you reckon it true folk
sometimes feel in their bones what is to happen?"
"What have you got in your head, child?"
"Maybe I am talking moonshine; but I can't get the notion off me that I
won't be long following the old dog."
"Don't talk nonsense, Molly."
She shrugged her shoulders in the brief fashion he found so charming.
The growl of thunder came a third time from the distance, grumbling
louder and enduring longer than the claps which had sounded before, and
on the echo of this final rumble a feverish breeze sprang up, and wooed
the hair upon her forehead and laid a kind breath against his cheek.
Power looked in the track of the storm and saw only the black sky. He
began to doubt if the burst would wait for midnight. He wanted to rouse
the child into better spirits, but himself must first summon courage to
shake off the oppression of the night. Now she was speaking again--to
herself as much as to him.
"Maybe it isn't hard to die. The old dog was curled round quiet and
easy when I found him. Sometimes when I get fair sick of hearing mum
and dad and of doin' the same old things, I think it easier to be dead
than to start to-morrow." She broke without warning into low, charming
laughter. "When we have sat a few weeks inside there with the rain
coming through every crack of the roof and each of us fair tired of
looking at the other, we'll reckon it a better game to be dead than
alive."
"Wise men say there is another life to be lived when this one is done
with, Molly."
"I've heard that story before, Jim. There was a parson round our ways
once with a pack-horse. He reckoned there was more business when we had
done with this place. I got him talking, for I hadn't seen a feller for
a month. But I expect there isn't too much in the tale. What do you
think, Mister?"
"Why Mister again?"
"Jim."
"If there is, let us hope we make less muddle of things next time."
"Phew! it's hot. See the lightning. You will have a wet skin to go home
in. No, I don't want to die yet. Some things don't happen too bad. I'd
be sorry not to ride a horse again or to go fishing or to hear the
birds. It isn't too bad of a morning when the sun first comes over
the plain, and it isn't too bad to hear the noises in the scrub of a
night." She stopped to smile. "And I don't want to say good-bye to you
fellows."
"So you like us just a little bit after all?"
For the first time she gave up watching the dark and looked round at
him out of grave eyes. He was startled at their solemnity and wondered
what she was going to say. She laid a hand upon his arm.
"Jim, you and me are near come to the end of things, aren't we? You
aren't always fretting to kiss me now as you was. I reckon soon you
will be quite through with me."
"Molly!"
"Yes, it is true."
He said nothing, but presently he moved beside her and put an arm about
her. She was staring into the dark again, and he laid his cheek against
her cheek, and they looked together in the direction where the storm
was rolling up.
"It is time to talk about things, Molly, and there is nobody to disturb
us. When the rains come, this riding to and fro will have an end. What
is to become of us all--tell me, child? Time never stops, you know.
Life never stands still. And it looks, doesn't it, as if a man or woman
can never go back, can never stay still even, but must go on? A long
while now three men have come day by day to offer you all they have,
but not to one of them have you yet nodded your head. I wish time knew
how to stand still, so that we could have stayed as we are for ever, as
though love like some enchanter had touched us with his wand; but time
is in a hurry, and I think at last you must choose one of us and send
the others gently about their business. Molly, whisper it. Who is it to
be?"
"If you was a girl that lived alone all day with only an old dog as
mate, you wouldn't find it easy to shake your head when a man said he
liked you. Why are you always thinking and worrying so? Why don't you
let things be?"
"It is time, it is not me, who won't let things stand still."
"Jim, talk straight with me. You are through with me, aren't you?"
"Molly, I would ask you to marry me, but I know we wouldn't be happy
very long."
He felt her take her cheek away as though he had startled her.
Presently, when she spoke, her voice was more gentle than he had ever
known it.
"You are a good fellow; but it don't make any difference, nor make me
think other of what I know. You have come to the end of me, and it is
only because you are a good fellow that you talk of marriage. There's
no need to worry over what has gone by. Kisses don't last long after
they are kissed, and a girl wouldn't come to much harm with such as
you." She laughed again. "Fancy me the wife of the boss of Kaloona. Mum
and dad have been rowing me about it since the start. You are a good
fellow to come here with a long face and talk about marriage, but you
always was a bit soft and none the worse for that."
While she was speaking the breeze wore out in a final timid flutter,
and the heat returned to the night, and then, while he sat there
acknowledging with a certain grim humour her words left him unmoved, he
felt her nestle against him.
"I would not marry you if you wanted, but I will give you a kiss
instead, for I know you are a straight fellow, and that is not
forgetting what has happened with you and Miss Neville. Come, Mister,
look this way."
He bent his head and they kissed where the beam of light clove the
dark, and it seemed to him there was less passion and more fondness in
that kiss than in all the kisses they had kissed before. Presently he
took his lips from hers, and she laid her head upon his shoulder.
"What has made you so kind to-night, Molly?"
He was forgotten again. She was looking into the dark as though her
sight pierced it and regarded something beyond. He could see only the
outline of her head; but in imagination he looked into her eyes which
were sleepy with dreams. A flutter of wind sprang up again in the
South--a flash of light opened and shut the heavens--there followed a
row-de-dow of thunder. The sudden commotion no whit disturbed her; but
a moment after she was speaking.
"Mister, I've got a queer feeling. It won't let me be. Something is
going to happen." She shivered again. "Do you reckon there are things
that come and go, and we can't see them?"
"No, silly child. We have behaved badly to you. We left you alone all
day, and your little brain, which was not meant for hard thinking, has
been run away with by big thoughts. Come, we still have our talk to
finish. We are to tell the truth to-night, and the time has come for
you to choose one of us. Whisper me the name.... Molly, I am waiting
for it.... Molly.... Then I shall have to tell you. Mick is the name
that tangles up your tongue."
"Poor Mr. Power."
"I have always known."
"And now you are glad."
"Are you going to marry him, Molly?"
"Some day maybe."
"He is a straight man, child. You couldn't choose a straighter one."
Once more the wind had fluttered itself to death. She lifted her hair
from her brows to cool her forehead.
"It will be a real old man storm and the roof isn't too good. Mum and
Dad will be at it to-morrow as soon as the rain comes through. See the
lightning that time?"
Now, in a mysterious way, the night began to cool, and a rush of wind
leapt up and swept towards them from the distance. It broke upon the
timbered country with a loud cry, clapping and clashing the boughs
together. And presently it plucked at the hair of his head and snatched
at the folds of her dress. And then it had swept by, leaving the night
cooler for its passage.
"What are you thinking of, Molly?"
"That was how you liked me, and now it has all blown away."
"Don't talk like that."
"When are you going to see Miss Neville?"
"I never see her now. Things have become muddled past straightening
out."
"But you will be seeing her soon, I reckon?"
"No. I tried to sit on two stools, and I have fallen between them."
She laughed gently, and put a hand into one of his. "Why are you so
stupid sometimes? You are always so fond of questions. It is my turn.
Jim, you are in love with Miss Neville, aren't you?"
"Yes, Molly."
"Then what's wrong?"
"A good deal seems to be wrong, child."
"When you sit there with a long face, I can't help teasing you. I
reckon you haven't learnt too much about girls yet. There's something I
can tell you, and don't frown and scowl at once. Miss Neville was round
these ways again this afternoon. Don't look like that, I said."
"Go on, but be kind."
"I won't tell you why she came nor what she said; but I didn't take her
up short this time. I was glad to see her, for the old dog dying had
made me lonely. When she was going away, she asked if I was marrying
you, and I thought to do you a daddy turn at last, for sometimes you
are a good fellow. I told her you was through with me, and that you
wanted her again only you was too high and mighty to go back. This is
straight wire, Jim."
Silence fell between them. All the while now lightning opened and shut
the dark, and a grumble of thunder sounded in the sky. Molly was the
first to break the spell.
"It's getting late. You had better be making home. The storm will bust
soon by looks of things, and you'll be washed off the road."
"I don't like leaving you by yourself."
"You'd better get. Dad and Mum will be back soon."
"Perhaps you are right, Molly."
They rose and walked together to the horse, which he saddled. He did
not unhitch the rein from the branch. Instead, he turned and drew Molly
close against him.
"I shall never forget you, whatever happens to us. I shall always
remember you as something very lovely and evasive. Whenever I see a
tree in blossom, I shall think of you with a lantern in your hand.
Whenever I see a star fall down the sky, I shall think of the first
kiss I gave you. But, child, it is time we gave by our kissing. Your
kisses are for someone else, and I must ride my own roads. We shall
often see each other again, but this must be our real good-bye."
"Jim!" was all she said, though she leant closer to him.
They kissed their last kiss by the shrunken margin of Pelican Pool. The
cloud wrack blotted out the stars; but the trees lifted wide arms above
them. They kissed their last kiss in the heat and passion of the young
night, while the flying foxes glided on quiet wings over the tree tops,
and the insect armies fluttered on their many errands about the dark.
As Power felt her lips laid against his own, he experienced a surge of
regret and thankfulness--regret for what this summer madness had cost
him--thankfulness for the widened vision he had gained. Presently he
took his lips from her lips, and bending again, laid a chaste kiss upon
her forehead. Then he had drawn himself from her embrace, and had taken
the bridle rein in his hands.