Mrs Lascelles would not perhaps have recognised Everitt, whom she had
only seen in the chapel, if the disturbance in Kitty's looks had not at
once caused her to leap to a conclusion which absolutely took away her
breath. She was quick-sighted enough to see that he was himself as yet
unconscious, for Kitty's face was turned from him, and he was engaged in
tucking his ulster round his legs; and even this momentary reprieve was
welcome, as it gave her a few instants in which to collect her thoughts.
She did not credit him with all the innocence which was rightfully his,
for she imagined that he had heard of their travels, and had followed
them; and though she was enough of a woman to be conscious of a sneaking
kindness for such a daring act, she felt that its audacity would have to
be met with displeasure. There would be no help from Kitty. Kitty was
actually trembling, and the best mode of treatment would be to ignore
the presence of anything at all out of the commonplace, and when the
moment of recognition came, refuse to see in it more than a chance and
quite uneventful coincidence.
The old sailor was in the stern of the boat, steering, while the boy
managed the brown sail. Kitty was next to Stevan, her mother next to
her, opposite to her the _cure_, who had taken out a small breviary, and
next to him Everitt. Everitt, having arranged himself and turned up the
collar of his ulster, began to look about him at his companions. Mrs
Lascelles saw a perception that she was English begin to dawn in his
mind, then he glanced at Kitty, and she fancied a sudden suspicion
crossed it. She took her resolution in a moment; the flash of knowledge
would have to come sooner or later; and for the girl to stare
persistently in an opposite direction would only give him an impression
of consciousness on her part, which, of all things, had better be
avoided. She touched her to emphasise her words, pointed directly
opposite, and said--
"Kitty, do you suppose that to be Gavr Innis?"
For an instant the girl hesitated, but she felt and understood her
mother's momentary pressure on her arm, and turned her glowing face in
Everitt's direction. He was looking full at her, and Mrs Lascelles,
who watched him closely, saw his sudden start and that he became pale.
Kitty, when she caught his eye, bowed slightly, and he immediately
lifted his hat and looked at Mrs Lascelles, who leaned forward.
"I think," she said, and there was no cordiality in her manner, "that it
is Mr Everitt." She was angry, but was quite at her ease; he was
delighted, and yet felt extremely awkward. He murmured something about
the unexpectedness of the meeting. Mrs Lascelles bowed again, and made
a remark to her daughter as if the other slight conversation were at an
end. But Everitt was not the man to be put on one side in this easy
fashion. He moved to the cross-seat, where he was next to Mrs
Lascelles.
"This is a strange meeting, and a strange place for an explanation," he
began rapidly; "yet I can't afford to let any opportunity slip."
"There is no need of an explanation," said Mrs Lascelles, hastily.
"Oh, there is!" he said, shaking his head and smiling. "Even at the
risk of once more seeming to force myself upon you, I must ask you to
let me apologise in the fullest manner possible for a most thoughtless
act."
He did not look at Kitty; the girl leant back, with her eyes fixed on
her hands, which lay loosely in her lap. The old brown-faced _patron_
was stooping forward, one arm on the tiller, the other on his knee, his
whole attention absorbed by the still freshening wind, and the long roll
of breakers farther out in the bay, the thunder of which came in above
the rush of wind and rain. As for the _cure_, apparently absorbed in
his breviary, he was not unconscious of the little drama which was being
played before him. He now and then glanced from Everitt to Kitty with
an air of interest. Mrs Lascelles, however, was not to be melted into
cordiality.
"After an apology," she returned, "there is nothing to be said. I hoped
that Mrs Marchmont would have expressed this to you. And, permit me to
say, that since it was, as you describe it, a thoughtless act, it will
be as well now for us to allude to it no more."
"That is easier for you than for me," he said, looking at her
appealingly.
But she made no answer. To begin with, she was in difficulties with her
umbrella, which threatened to be blown inside out, unless she held it in
front of her, and this meant putting it like a barricade between herself
and Everitt. Then she was beyond measure provoked with him for coming
and reviving the annoying memories which she intended these three weeks
to sweep away out of her Kitty's heart. And added to this was the
offence of his having followed and forced himself upon them in such a
fashion. Everitt, who was not accustomed to have his advances snubbed,
drew back to his seat by the _cure_. The rain drove in wilder gusts;
Kitty, under her hooded waterproof, safe miserable. She would have
liked to have said something that might soften her mother's coldness,
but what could she say across wet planks, a boatman, and a _cure_? She
felt utterly helpless, and the last thing that would have occurred to
her was that she was looking so pretty, so fresh, and so glowing, that
Everitt's resentment, though he tried to fan it, could not stand against
the charm of her beauty.
Yet he would not allow Mrs Lascelles to imagine that she would have him
thrust upon them. When the boat reached the little island, Everitt
sprang out, and stood with as much dignity as a somewhat humiliating
wind would allow, to help Mrs Lascelles and Kitty over the slippery
rocks. When they had arrived at a safe footing, he lifted his hat and
went back to the boat to speak to the _patron_, who was making it fast.
The boy ran on to show the two ladies the way to the house where a guide
for the cave was to be found, the _cure_, strode past them.
"Oh, mother!" cried Kitty, the instant they were out of hearing.
Mrs Lascelles laughed without real enjoyment of the situation.
"Yes, it's an odd coincidence, and annoying. But, as he could not have
known who was in the boat, I hope he will see the propriety of not
forcing himself upon us. He didn't behave so badly, Kitty."
"You were so dreadfully stiff."
The mother looked at her with a little surprise.
"Is that what's troubling you? Oh, never mind that! I was only afraid
of not being stiff enough. Do open your umbrella; no waterproof can
stand this rain. The whole thing is very ludicrous," she added,
laughing again in a vexed way. "What do you suppose he has gone to the
boat for?"
"To arrange to go back without us," said the girl, walking quickly on.
"Well--if he can," said Mrs Lascelles, lightly. "Is this the place?"
It was a sombre granite house, built strongly to resist the sweep of the
great winds which roared across the bay and the barren islands. When
they went into it, welcomed by a wizened old woman, so deep was the
gloom that they paused on the threshold, uncertain where their next step
might land them, until their eyes became accustomed to the half-light,
and they could make out the old oak benches and table, and the cupboard
bed high in the wall. A guide for the cavern? Oh yes! her husband
would be there in a moment. He had seen the boat, and was getting
lights; but it was a wild day for ladies to cross. Would they please
write their names while they were waiting? The _cure_ had come before
them; her daughter was ill--very ill. Wouldn't they please to dry their
wet clothes? Her husband was ready, but there was plenty of time.
No, Mrs Lascelles said; they would go at once. Like other energetic
people, she was impatient to finish what she had begun, and she told
herself that if Everitt had the grace to keep out of the way, they had
better take advantage of his absence. Kitty was silent; she made no
remonstrance, but when the boy prepared to follow, she informed him
rather authoritatively that he had better go back to the boat.
The famous cavern is a long narrow passage, traversed with lights, like
the Roman catacombs, and worked with strange and ancient carvings, in
which the serpent plays a prominent part. There is not much to be told
of them, and Kitty and her mother knew less; they finished their
investigations without much sense of gain. Kitty was restless, and yet
silent; her mother was restless and talkative. Once or twice their
guide lifted his hand and listened.
"There was another monsieur," he said, "in the boat. My wife said she
would send him on."
"Perhaps he is not coming," Mrs Lascelles suggested.
The man stared at her.
"There is nothing else to cross to the island for," he said stolidly.
"We will get back as quickly as we can, Kitty," said her mother. "The
wind is certainly higher."
When they came out, indeed, it was evident that the storm had increased.
The clouds were darker and more menacing; the water, even under the lee
of the island, was surging forward in long heavings which looked like
iron; the wind rushed against them with a fierce persistence, different
from the wet squalls which had faced them as they came. The women
hurried on, refusing to take shelter again in the grey house, from the
doorway of which the boatman and the _cure_ were watching for them. Old
Stevan was brief in his remarks.
Yes, he said, they should start at once. The wind was freshening to a
gale, and if they delayed--
Where was the other gentleman? Kitty inquired.
He was not coming, it appeared. He intended to wait on the island until
a boat could cross for him; and that would not be to-day, Stevan
answered, with a shrug. The people who lived there had a boat, of
course, but the young son-in-law had taken it to fetch something for the
sick wife.
Then Kitty stopped resolutely, and demanded that the boy should be sent
back to the house to tell the gentleman that they would not start until
he came.
"Kitty!" exclaimed her mother, in amazement.
But Kitty's eyes were shining with resolute determination. The _cure_,
who perhaps understood more than they thought, smiled resignedly, and
sheltered himself as best he could from the driving rain.
"We have been unjust, mother," said the girl, in a low voice.
Mrs Lascelles said nothing. Kitty was going her own way, and she was
unwilling to interfere. She was uneasy, but interested, and perhaps a
little amused; besides, it must be owned the sea looked so fierce that
she was not sorry to have another man in the boat. Presently she saw
Everitt coming towards them, quickening his pace when he perceived they
were waiting on the shore. Kitty did not draw back, as her mother
expected; she made a few steps to meet him, and said quietly--
"It would have been a great pity if you had stayed at that place all
night because you were afraid of overcrowding the boat. We hope you
will cross with us."
"Thank you," said Everitt, briefly. He wasted no more words, but
occupied himself in doing what he could to shelter them from rain: in a
few moments the driving foam would be dashing over the boat. The old
boatman looked up and down uneasily; Everitt said certain words to him,
and his face cleared. "We are going to wrap the heavy brown sail round
you," Everitt added to Mrs Lascelles; "it can't be used in any other
way."
"The old man will never be able to row us across," she said, anxiously.
"I am going to help him," he said; "and, if necessary, I have no doubt
the _cure_ could bear a hand. All these Bretons are born sailors.
Don't be alarmed. I hope a wetting will be your worst misfortune."
In spite of his cheery words, when they got out into the more open sea
the waves ran so high, and the fierce pressure of the wind was so
strong, that Mrs Lascelles looked round her in terror. Their boat
seemed as if it could be nothing but a plaything between these mighty
powers. Now and then the priest murmured words which they could not
distinguish; the boy crouched, a brown heap, on a pile of brown nets in
the stern; the two men--the old and the young--with strong, set faces,
worked steadily at their oars. Hard rowing was not necessary, for the
wind swept them along; but there were cross currents, and these were
dangerous seas; and the threatening gloom of the sky, touched here and
there with a lurid light, and the strong rush of the waves with their
scud of flying foam, made Mrs Lascelles glance at her daughter with a
tightening of her heart. As for Kitty herself, the girl sat leaning a
little forward. Her mother's hand had sought hers, and Kitty had
clasped it with both her own. Her hood had been blown a little back
from her face, and her sweet eyes were fixed upon the shore towards
which they were driving. Not a shadow of fear had touched them, as the
mother saw with a little sigh; nay, the next moment the girl turned and
looked at her with a smile.
Meanwhile, as they rapidly neared the shore, it became evident that some
anxiety was aroused in the little village, for half a dozen men and
women had collected near the landing-place, their figures blurred and
dimmed by the rain and mist. Old Stevan, too, seemed uneasy. He
stopped rowing at last, just keeping the boat's course with his oar, and
exchanged a few words with Everitt. The _cure_ bent forward and put a
question; Mrs Lascelles tightened her clasp on Kitty's hand.
It was easy to see that the danger lay in attempting to land. The
landing-place was merely a little run between rocks at the best of
times, and at present, owing to the gale coming from rather an unusual
point of the compass, such a surf was running as was rarely seen. The
men on shore yelled directions, which could not be distinguished in the
boat. Old Stevan turned and for an instant surveyed the wild, tumbling
mass before him; then he spoke to Everitt, who nodded, and the next
moment the two men bent once more to their work, and it seemed to Mrs
Lascelles that they were in such a whirl of tossing, raging waters that
the boat must be swamped or stove in beyond hope of help. She clutched
Kitty's hand, and even cried out, though she could not hear her own
voice. The flying foam was over her head, beating at her face; she was
stunned, bewildered, almost senseless, when the boat was caught by
strong hands and drawn up into safety.
"Mother!" cried Kitty, looking at her with, for the first time, terror
in her eyes.
But it did not take Mrs Lascelles long to recover. Half a dozen hands
were stretched to help her out of the boat, half full of water from the
attack of the last wave, and she stumbled out, still grasping Kitty's
band. For the first time, the _cure_ addressed them.
"It has been a hazardous voyage," he remarked, "and,"--bowing to
Kitty--"mademoiselle has a great courage." Then he lifted his wet hat
from his head, and marched away in his dripping clothes to the
_presbytere_.
And now it was Everitt who, as it seemed to the girl, made everything
smooth before them. The little village had little enough to boast of,
but he had got them--in a shorter time than seemed possible--up to the
small inn, where a good fire was lit in a room where they could dry
their clothes, and where the landlady provided them with stout full
skirts and warm stockings. Arrayed in these, and sitting over the fire
until the carriage which was to take them to Auray was ready, Mrs
Lascelles soon forgot the battering and drenching she had gone through--
even began to smile at the recollection. And then she touched on
another subject.
"Kitty," she said, solemnly, "Mr Everitt must be forgiven."
"Forgiven!" The girl looked up with a proud glance in her eyes.
"Mother, I am ashamed to have thought so much about such a little thing.
It was all kindness and good-nature on his part to save me from
disappointment, and see how I returned it! When he wanted to explain,
we would not even listen, or allow him the opportunity of setting
himself right. And now," she added passionately, "he comes and saves
our lives, and so he is to be forgiven! Mother, you don't mean that!"
Mrs Lascelles felt more surprise than she showed. In the vehemence of
her speaking, Kitty had started up, and her mother laid her hand on her
arm and drew her down again to her side. She spoke very quietly; no one
knew what a sharp pang preceded her words.
"My dear," she said, smiling--"my dear, how long have you felt this?"
Kitty looked at her.
"Ever since I knew that we had been unjust," she said, simply. "I
think, almost from the first."
"Ah!" said Mrs Lascelles, slowly, and still smiling; "and that seems a
long while ago, doesn't it?" Then she stooped and kissed her. "God
bless you, my Kitty," she said, softly and earnestly.
The girl's eyes brightened.
"Then, mother, you will thank him, and not talk any more about
forgiving?"
"No; that is certainly past," said Mrs Lascelles, still slowly; "and,
as you say, I must thank him--as well as I can. I suppose," she added,
following a little irresistible impulse, "that the _cure_ could have
taken his place?"
"No," said Kitty, earnestly, "no. Stevan told me himself that the
_cure_ had not the strength. `If it had not been for the English
gentleman, mademoiselle, the boat might not have weathered it.' Those
were his very words."
Oh, Stevan, Stevan, had he too fathomed that wonderful secret!
"Ah!" Mrs Lascelles said again; "that of course decides it."
"Mother, you are sure you are not ill?" said the girl, anxiously.
There was a hesitation in her mother's words which made her uneasy, so
unlike was it to her usual prompt and brisk decision. But she shook off
the question with more of her ordinary manner.
"Ill? Not in the least. It has been a little bewildering, that is all.
The waves of the Atlantic do hit rather hard. I don't see any bell;
shall we go down and find out if the carriage is ready?"
But at this moment there arrived two massive white cups full of steaming
coffee, and news that they might start whenever they wished. Everitt
was waiting for them when they went down, and Mrs Lascelles went up to
him at once.
"Kitty," she said, cordially, "tells me I have been very ungrateful--
indeed, that we have been ungrateful all through, at any rate now, when
it appears we owe you our lives."
He coloured.
"Your lives!" he repeated, in amazement.
"Yes, indeed," she said, smiling; "and you mustn't say it's nothing,
because at this moment it seems to me a very great deal."
"But there is a great mistake. Who could have told you anything so
preposterous? I am much obliged to you for finding myself on the right
side of the water."
"Well," she said, "we will each keep our private views on the matter.
Now, tell me, what are you going to do?"
He hesitated.
"I am going to walk to Auray, and--take the train back to Paris."
"No," she replied, shaking her head; "we will drive you to Auray. You
must sleep there, and to-morrow you can decide whether to go to Paris or
to come with us to Quimper."
"Do you mean that?" he asked, eagerly, speaking to her, but looking at
Kitty.
"Yes," said Mrs Lascelles, quietly. Nobody heard the little sigh which
fell from her lips, and if she looked pale, they thought it was the
result of the storm.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
There is a charming, picturesque cheerfulness about Quimper. The storm
of the preceding day had left the air clear and delicious; the sunset
colouring fell very softly on the delicate cathedral spires, on the
shallow brawling river, on the trees which bordered the broad promenade
by its side. Numbers of people were standing or sitting about, but
there were two for whom, all their lives long, the beauty of that sunset
will never be equalled.
"We," one of them was saying--"we will certainly live at Quimper,"--and
then he wisely tempered his rashness--"for part of every year."
"And you shall paint," said she.
"And you shall be my model this time. It's my turn," he added, looking
at her with a laugh. For Mrs Lascelles had heard his explanation,
learnt how what began in thoughtless good-nature ended in sober earnest,
and how Everitt had known nothing of their coming abroad, but, growing
weary of Auvergne, had hurried down to the coast of Brittany, hoping to
find an incitement to work. Instead of which he found--something else!
"How shall I explain to Bell and Mary?" cried Kitty.
"You need not. I wrote to Jack to-day, and that will do it all."
"Already!" she said, with a blush.
He held her from him, and for a moment stood looking down into her sweet
eyes.
"My darling," he said, "I should like the whole world to know to-day how
much I love you?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The End.