THE END
Why do we women like to tease the men we love? Is the sense of
coquetry innate and irresistible in some of us? Or is it merely a
defensive instinct warning us of the danger of being won too easily?
I knew quite well how the interview with Karl would end; I knew he
loved me and that I loved him; I was hungry for the feel of his arms
about me and the touch of his lips on mine; and yet my face wore a
quite aggrieved look as I met him with words of somewhat petulant
reproach on my lips.
"I am glad you were able to go with the Duke," I said.
He gave a start at my tone and then laughed. "It was very fortunate.
I am glad that--you are glad, Christabel."
"I am afraid you must have found it inconvenient to leave him so soon."
"Are you?"
"Had you not better hurry back to him?"
"Yes. I am going straight back from here."
"Don't let _me_ keep you, pray."
"Very well."
What can you do with a man who refuses in this way to be teased, but
just accepts what you say with preposterous good humour? I shrugged my
shoulders. "Why don't you go then?"
"That is exactly it. Why? Of course you can't guess such an abstruse
problem! It's altogether beyond you; but try. I should like to hear
you making a number of ingeniously wrong guesses. Now, what reason can
I possibly have for being here?"
"It is not worth the trouble."
"Well, then, try the obvious. That won't be much trouble."
"You wish to know the latest news of Gareth, you mean, to take to the
Duke."
"That's not the obvious, Christabel; that's only an ingeniously wrong
one. I'm afraid I've disappointed you a little."
"In coming away from the Duke so--soon?"
"Not a bit of it. In not letting you tease me just now. I ought to
have taken you seriously and fired up, and all the rest of it. But I
didn't. I didn't misunderstand you in the least. You see--but shall I
tell you why?" and he came close to me.
"You _did_ go away with the Duke," I persisted; rather feebly, I fear.
"And who would have been the first to blame me if I had not, when he
was ill and could not go alone? You see you can't plague me because,
for one thing, I know you too well; and for another--I've had a chat
with the General. Didn't he tell you I was--a rebel?"
"I always understood you had no sympathy with patriots," I answered,
looking up innocently, but prepared for defeat and surrender.
"It won't do, Christabel," he laughed. "You're looking too innocent.
The General gave you away, I mean, and you know that I mean I am a
rebel against my father's latest act of tyranny."
He paused; but somehow I couldn't meet his eyes. I tried, and at my
failure he was very tactful. He seemed to guess that it would have
hurt me, if he had laughed then. Instead of laughing he took my hand.
"I am not going to give you up, Christabel, just because the Duke is
unreasonably angry. Not all the dukes and princes in the empire shall
make me do that. We may perhaps, have to wait a little longer yet; but
even that's for you to decide. You see, I'm so sure of you, dear.
There's where it is."
"I would not come between you two," I whispered.
"Nor shall he come between us two. I was only a shiftless sort of
ne'er-do-well till you came here and helped me to be strong again. I
was going down the hill full speed with no brakes on; and, as you know,
I didn't care. But I care now and have a will again--as you'll find
out if you try to cross me in this; and having found my right mind
again I made it up. You mean to side with the--rebel, don't you?"
He proved that he had a will then; for without giving me time to reply,
he just put his arm about me and made me kiss him on the lips. And
after that, what was the use of protesting, even if I had the wish?
But I hadn't. At the touch of his lips, the Duke and his opposition
and his dislike of me, and everything else in the world was blotted
out, save only--my love for Karl and his for me.
* * * * *
I wish that this story of the chapter of my life could end with that
pledge-kiss of ours; and that I could say all ended as happily for
others as for Karl and myself. But I cannot.
I had done my utmost to gather happiness for Gareth from the seeds of
trouble which her loving but thoughtless hands had sown so innocently.
The deception I had contrived and had caused her father and husband to
continue was successful in its first object. They did their part well
in the short strange interview by her bedside; and when the doctor
called them away, she was entirely happy, holding a hand of each of
them in hers in perfect belief in their reconciliation.
The doctor told me that the risk of brain fever which he had seen was
at an end, and that she would soon recover her strength, unless that
occurred which was in all our thoughts.
And it did occur.
A crisis came in the night. I was dozing by her bedside, for she had
fallen asleep, when her cries of pain roused me. I called Mrs. Perry,
the doctor was summoned at once; and everything that his skill and our
care could do for her was done. But there was no doubt of her imminent
danger now.
In the grey of the dawn the life, which was yet never full life, came
only to be snatched away instantly by the remorseless Reaper, who
lingered by the bedside as if to garner with one sweep of the sickle
the mother as well as the child.
Fearing the end I sent news at once to the Duke, to Count Gustav, and
to Colonel Katona. Both the latter came hurrying to the house; but by
the time they arrived, the doctor was able to announce a respite.
There was danger, grave danger, but just a faint hope that all might
yet be well.
Long, anxious, wearing hours followed while we watched the flame of
life flicker up and down as she lay, white as wax and death's very
counterfeit for stillness.
More than once I thought she had passed; and held the mirror to her
mouth to catch just the faintest dew of breath.
Both Gustav and her father came up to see her, creeping into the room
to gaze and sigh, and turn away despairing.
She knew none of us; but just lay as though she had done with all the
matters of earth: hovering on the edge of the thinnest line that can
part death from life.
The two men stayed in the house: nursing I know not what angry thoughts
each of the other; but both afraid to leave lest the moment of
consciousness should come to her and find them absent.
I scarcely spoke to either of them, except to carry a brief message of
her condition. If Gustav had brought this all about by his
selfishness, it had been the Colonel who had made matters so
desperately worse by his ill-timed harsh looks and words on the
preceding day. And toward both I felt too hardly on her account to do
other than leave them to the bitterness of their belated, unavailing
remorse.
That both suffered acutely I could tell by their looks when I carried
my brief news. But pity for them I could not feel. It was all
absorbed by the gentle girl whom between them they had brought to the
threshold of the grim portal.
All through the hours of that long autumn day, the coma continued,
until the doctor confessed his fear that she would pass away without
even a minute's lapse into consciousness.
"If she should be conscious may I bring them to her?" I asked him when
he was going away at nightfall.
"There is risk either way; but if she asks for them, bring them--for a
minute only, however."
"There is no hope?
"If she lives through the night--yes; but..." and he shook his head
very gravely.
In the evening the last solemn pathetic offices of the Church were
solemnized; and through it all she remained unconscious--mercifully, as
it seemed to me, since it would have roused her to the knowledge that
she was dying.
I went back to my chair by the bed with a heart full of foreboding. I
recalled the General's words--so sadly prophetic--"Whom the gods love,
die young." The saying had galled me as he quoted it; but it did so no
longer.
She looked so frail and fragile in her sickness; a tender floweret so
utterly unable to bear up against the rough cross winds of anger and
strife which, held in restraint only by her weakness, would assuredly
burst forth to blight her life, that one could only feel with sad
resignation that the dark verdict was the best for her happiness.
And yet so loving and passing sweet she was that with resignation to
the will of Heaven was an irresistible, almost passionate, regret that
she should go.
Hours passed with that solemn slowness one knows in a sick room. The
time was broken by my errands to the two watchers below stairs, to whom
I carried news of her condition. More than once during the night Karl
came also, as he had come frequently during the day, sent by the Duke
in his anxiety for tidings of Gareth.
It was some time past midnight when I noticed a change. She took the
nourishment I gave her, and when I laid her back on the pillow, she
sighed and made an effort to open her eyes.
I took her hand and held it and, after some time, I felt a slight
pressure of her fingers upon mine.
"Gareth, dearest," I whispered.
At first there was no response; but when I called her again, the
pressure of the fingers was distinct; and a little later she opened her
eyes and looked at me.
That was all then, and she was so still afterwards, that I thought she
was once more unconscious. She was not, however; and presently her
eyes opened again and her lips moved.
I bent down over her, and caught the faintly whispered words:
"Am I dying?"
"No, dearest, no. You will soon be strong again."
She looked at me, and tried, I think, to smile.
"Poor Karl." Just a soft, sighing whisper, and she was silent.
"He is here, dearest. Would you like to see him?"
She made no reply, but I told Mrs. Perry to bring both Gustav and the
Colonel to the door of the room. Then I went back and gave her some
stimulant, as the doctor had told me.
It lent her a measure of strength.
"Karl is here, Gareth, and your father--shall I bring them?"
"Yes--both."
I went to the door and opened it, and they crept across the room to the
bedside. Gustav knelt down on one side and took her hand and pressed
his lips to it. The Colonel stood on the other side; and I lifted her
other hand from beneath the bed clothes and laid it where her father
could hold it.
She thanked me with a look, and whispered: "Kiss me, Christabel."
I bent and kissed her; and the tears were standing thick in my eyes as
I drew away.
"Father!"
Just the word and the look of entreaty; and he stooped down and kissed
her too.
Her eyes lingered on him a moment, and then she turned her face slowly
round to Gustav, whose head was still bowed over the hand he held:
"Husband!"
He did not catch the faint whisper; and I touched him on the shoulder.
He started up to find her eyes on him, and then understood; and he too
kissed her. She kept her eyes on him; and he kissed her again.
"My darling wife," he murmured.
She looked at him intently.
"I am so sorry, Karl."
It was her last word. The flickering remnant of her strength was spent
in a smile of love to him; and as it died slowly from her face, she
closed her eyes, and her spirit passed into eternal peace.
As soon as I realized that she was gone, I whispered to Mrs. Perry and
hurried out of the room, to find Karl there. He had come for news. He
read it in my face and by the tears in my eyes, as he put his arm about
me and led me away.
THE END
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