ONE LOVE AGAINST ANOTHER
Ridgeway passed another sleepless night. Had not Veath said he could win
her love, even though it were pledged to another? The thought gave birth
to a fear that he was not perfectly sure of her love, and that it might
turn to Henry Veath, after all. In the early morning hours, between
snatches of sleep, he decided to ask Lady Huntingford's advice, after
explaining to her the dilemma in full. He would also tell Grace of
Veath's declaration, putting her on guard. Breakfast time found the sea
heavy and the ship rolling considerably, but at least three people gave
slight notice to the weather. Hugh was sober and morose; Veath was
preoccupied and unnatural; Grace was restless and uneasy. Lady
Huntingford, who came in while they were eating, observed this condition
almost immediately, and smiled knowingly, yet sadly. Later Hugh Ridgeway
drew her to a secluded corner and exploded his bomb. Her cool little
head readily devised a plan which met his approval, and he hurried off
to warn Grace before it was too late. Lady Huntingford advised him to
tell Veath nothing of the elopement, allowing him to believe as he had
all along, but suggested a radical change in their future plans. It was
her advice that they go on to Japan and be married.
At first Grace demurred to this plan, which he necessarily proposed as
his own, holding that it would be absolutely cruel to desert Veath at
the last minute. Finally she agreed to the compromise and kissed him
with tears in her eyes.
Days passed and the strain grew more tense than ever. The _Tempest
Queen_ was nearing the Archipelago, after the stops at Penang and
Singapore. At Hong Kong the Manila-bound passengers were to be
transferred to one of the small China Sea steamers. The weather had been
rough and ugly for many days. Lady Huntingford had not left her
stateroom in two days. Grace was with her a greater portion of the time,
ministering to her wants gently and untiringly. Ridgeway and Veath,
anxious and troubled, wandered aimlessly about the ship, smoking cigar
after cigar, praying for a cessation of the ugly weather. Finally, all
passengers were peremptorily forbidden the deck. The skilled sailors
were in constant danger of being washed overboard. Captain Shadburn
admitted that they were being driven from their course by the fury of
the typhoon. Secretly he feared that the _Queen_ might rush upon a
reef at night.
Dinner on the second violent evening was a sombre affair. Lady
Huntingford, pale, sweet and wan, made her appearance with Grace,
occupying Veath's seat, that gentleman moving to the next chair, its
original occupant being confined to his berth. Lord Huntingford,
austere and imperturbable, entered some time before his wife and
purposely ignored her when she came in.
As the party arose from the table, a heavy lurch of the boat threw Grace
headlong into Veath's arms. By a superhuman effort he managed to keep
his feet. He smiled down at her; but there was something so insistent in
the smile that it troubled her.
"It's an ill wind that blows no good," said Veath softly.
"What blows well for one may blow ill for another," she responded a
little coldly, though she did not refuse the proffered arm; and they
staggered toward the doorway.
As they passed into the main saloon he suddenly asked her if she would
let him speak to her of a matter that long had been on his mind. She did
not look him in the face, but she knew it was white and determined. The
time had come when he was to tell her that he loved her. He begged for a
moment's time and gained her unspoken permission. They sank to a couch
near the stairway, Grace giving a last helpless, hopeless glance at Hugh
as he and his companion passed from the apartment.
"I can see by the manner in which you act that you know what I want to
say to you. It is also plain to me that you would rather not hear me,"
he said, after a moment.
"Please do not say it," she entreated, and he saw the little hope that
he had been nourishing dashed away.
"I did not dream until a few moments ago that you had discerned my love
for you, Miss Ridge, but I am not sorry that I have been so transparent.
How you have guessed my secret I cannot imagine. I tried to keep it from
you," he said, as if he had wounded her. "Perhaps your brother
told you."
She was on the point of telling him that Hugh was not her brother, but
something checked the impulse and she could only answer by shaking
her head.
"You told me that you expect to marry another man, but that has not kept
me from telling you that I love you, nor will it prevent me from trying
to win your love. Pride, if nothing else, has kept my lips sealed, for
what right have I to ask any woman to share my lot? In sheer humiliation
I must tell you that my life looks like a failure to me. I have a hard
struggle ahead of me. You may say that I am young and strong, but I
cannot, for my soul, see anything bright ahead." His voice trembled and
she glanced up at his face. He was looking at the diamond that sparkled
on her left hand.
"You have no right to say that life is a failure; you have no right to
lie down on your arms and give, up the fight. That is the act of a
coward. After all, it is not the way to win a woman's love."
"You don't mean--is it possible that you could--" he began.
"No, no! You must not hope. I love another as dearly as you love me. But
I will not have you say that you cannot succeed in life. I know you are
strong, and I know you are determined. There is nothing impossible to
you," she said hurriedly, seeking feverishly to draw him from his
purpose. "When first we met you were cheerful and hopeful, strong and
full of life. Then some one came into your life and you saw a black
cloud of despair arise. It came up easily and you can drive it away just
as easily. It is not of your nature to give up, I know. You can win fame
and fortune and the love of some one much worthier than I."
"If I live to be a thousand I shall love none as I love you," he said
simply. "If you loved me I could win against all the world. Your wealth
is a natural barrier between poor love and rich pride, both true
possessions of mine. But for the latter the former would win. Can you
understand?" he asked almost vehemently.
"I--I--no, I do not understand you," she said panic-stricken. His eyes
were flashing again in the same old way and his voice, low pitched, had
a gallant ring.
"I mean I'd win your love and I'd make you my wife."
"Mr. Veath! How can you--how dare you--" she began, arising indignantly,
yet a trifle carried away by his impetuous manner. Her heart was
thumping tumultuously and she dared not look into his eyes.
"Dare!" he cried. "You urge me to fight it out and die in the trenches,
as it were, and now you ask me why I dare tell you what I'd do under
certain conditions. I merely tell you what I could and would do if I
could change the conditions."
"You are a trifle over-confident, Mr. Veath," she said coldly.
"Good-night."
"Don't be angry, please," he cried in humility. "You have spoken to me
in a way that has awakened a new spirit--the spirit that men call 'do or
die.' To-night the storm rages and we are all in danger. I feel that in
an hour like this and in a place like this I am worth more than I have
ever been or could be in any other position. The fierceness of the night
and the sting of your advice combine to give life and nerve to my weak
heart. I am not the man who begged you a moment ago to listen to the
weakness of a despairing lover; it is another man, another Henry Veath
who talks to you now. From this instant I shall begin the battle against
old conditions and you shall be the spoils of battle. Grace, look at me!
I am going to show you what real determination means. I want you and
I'll win you." His tall figure straightened, his blue eyes gleamed and
flashed with the fire of enthusiasm. The timid, fearful Veath was gone,
and in his stead stood the valiant, aggressive, inspired contestant.
The rolling of the ship sent her staggering toward him, and he caught
her by the arms. Steadying himself against the staircase, he cried in
her bewildered ear:
"I love you better than all else in the world. You are a part of my
life, all of my joy. Do you think I can give you up now that I have
found the courage to begin the struggle? I'll win my way and I'll win
your love. Nothing but death can stop me now. Come! Don't look as though
you hate me for it."
"I do not hate you," she said humbly, almost glaring into his bright
eyes, unable to turn from the love which governed them so completely.
"But you must not talk like this. I cannot listen to you. Mr. Veath,
there is no possible hope."
"The hope to win and the will to win are two different propositions, and
it is the latter under which I am enlisted. To me it is worth fighting
for to the end of time."
"Oh, you must not say these things to me," she cried fiercely, trying to
escape from his eyes.
"I shall not say another word to you after to-night until I am sure I
have won the victory. Then I shall ask you to be my wife. To-morrow I'll
tell your brother I am bound to win. He must know my honest intentions."
"My brother!" she gasped. Her knees grew weak and a faintness assailed
her heart, almost to overpowering. "You--you must not--shall not say a
word to Hugh. I forbid you--I--"
"Why are you so agitated? Why am I not to speak to him? He is
fair-minded, and I know he likes me."
"You don't know what it would mean to me. There is something you do not
know. No, no! You shall not speak to Hugh." It was her turn to command,
and he wavered.
"Your will is the law which I obey. He shall not know--not now, at
least," he said. "There are to be but two factions in the struggle,
then, your love against mine."
"You forget the--the other man," she said, sudden tears springing to her
eyes.
"I think only of one woman," he said softly, lovingly.
She leaned wearily against the staircase, her hands clasping the
railing. There was a piteous, hopeless entreaty in the dimming eyes as
she turned them to his and tried to speak calmly.
"I have something to say to you--to-morrow. Let us say good-night."
"Nothing you can say will alter my love. When the storm to-night is at
its worst remember that I will give my life for your sake."
She did not answer, but her hand clasped his arm impulsively. In the
doorway they met Hamilton and Gregory, just from the captain, their
faces white and fear-stricken. Hugh and Lady Huntingford were hurrying
toward them.