A PASSIONATE PILGRIM
It seemed to Wrayson, as by and by he began to make bolder and more
rapid progress, that it was an actual fairy world into which he was
passing with beating heart and this strange new sense of delicious
excitement. As he drew nearer, the round Norman towers and immense grey
front of the château began to take to themselves more definite shape.
The gardens began to spread themselves out; terraced lawns, from whose
flower-beds, now a blurred chaos so far as colour was concerned, waves
of perfume came stealing down to him; statuary appeared, white and
ghostly in the half light, and here and there startlingly lifelike;
there were trimmed shrubs, and a long wall of roses trailed down from
the high stone balcony. But, as yet, there was no sound or sign of human
life! That was to come.
Wrayson came to a pause at last. He had passed from the shelter of the
woods into a laurel walk, but further than this he could not go without
being plainly visible to any one in the château. So he waited and
watched. There were lights, he could see now, behind many of the ground
floor windows of the chateâu, and more than once he fancied that he could
catch the sound of music. He tried to fancy in which room she was, to
project his passionate will through the twilight, so that she should come
to him. But the curtains remained undrawn, and the windows closed. Still
Wrayson waited!
Then at last Providence intervened. Above the top of the woods, over on
the other side of the château, came first a faint lightening in the sky,
which gradually deepened into a glow. Slowly the rim of the moon crept
up, and very soon the spectral twilight was at an end. The shadowy
landscape became real and vivid. It was a new splendour creeping softly
into the night. Wrayson moved a little further back into his shelter, and
even as he did so one of the lower windows of the château was thrown
open, and two women, followed by a man, stepped out. Their appearance was
so sudden that Wrayson felt his breath almost taken away. He leaned a
little forward and watched them eagerly.
The woman, who was foremost of the little group, was a stranger to him,
although her features, and a somewhat peculiar headdress which she wore,
seemed in a sense familiar. She was tall and dark, and she carried
herself with the easy dignity of a woman of rank. Her face was thoughtful
and her expression sweet; if she was not actually beautiful, she was at
least a woman whom it was impossible to ignore. But Wrayson glanced at
her only for a minute. It was Louise who stood by her side!--the music of
her voice came floating down to him. Heavens! had he ever realized how
beautiful she was? He devoured her with his eyes, he strained his nerves
to hear what they were saying. He was ridiculously relieved to see that
the man who stood by their side was grey-headed. He was beginning to
realize what love was. Jealousy would be intolerable.
They moved about the terrace. He scarcely knew whether he hoped or feared
the more that they would descend and come nearer to him. After all, it
was cruelly tantalizing. He dared not disobey the Baroness, or he would
have stepped boldly from his hiding-place and gone up to them. But that,
by the terms of his promise, was impossible. He was to make his presence
known to Louise only if he could do so secretly. He was not to accost her
in the presence of any other person. It might be days or weeks before the
opportunity came--or it might--it might be minutes! For, almost without
warning, she was alone. The others had left her, with farewells, if any,
of the briefest. She came forward to the grey stone parapet, and, with
her head resting upon her hand, looked out towards the woods.
His heart began to beat faster--his brain was confused. Was there any
chance that she would descend into the gardens--dare he make a signal
to her? Her head and shoulders were bare, and a slight breeze had
sprung up during the last few minutes. Perhaps she would feel the cold
and go in! Perhaps--
He watched her breathlessly. She had abandoned her thoughtful attitude
and was standing upright, looking around her. She looked once at the
window. She was apparently undecided whether to go in or not. Wrayson
prayed then, if he had never prayed before. He didn't know to whom! He
was simply conscious of an intense desire, which seemed somehow
formulated into an appeal. Before he was fully conscious of it, she was
coming down the steps. She stood on the edge of the lawn for a moment, as
though considering; then, carefully raising her skirts in both hands, she
picked her way amongst the flower-beds, coming almost directly towards
him. Glancing round, he saw her objective--a rustic seat under a dark
cedar tree, and he saw, too, that she must pass within a few feet of
where he stood. She walked as one dreaming, or whose thoughts are far
distant, her head thrown back, her eyes half closed. The awakening, when
it came, was sudden enough.
"Louise," he called to her softly, "Louise!"
She dropped her skirts. For a moment he feared that she was going
to cry out.
"Who is that?" she asked sharply.
"It is I, Herbert Wrayson," he answered. "Don't be afraid. Shall I come
out to you, or will you come down the laurel path?"
"You!" she murmured. "You!"
He saw the light in her face, and his voice was hoarse with passion.
"Come," he cried, "or I must fetch you! Louise! Sweetheart!"
She came towards him a little timidly, her eyebrows arched, a divine
smile playing about her lips. She stood at the entrance to the laurel
grove and peered a little forward.
"Where are you?" she asked. "Is it really you? I think that I am a little
afraid! Oh!"
He took her into his arms with a little laugh of happiness. Time and life
itself stood still. Her feeble remonstrances were swept away in the tide
of his passion. His lips hung burning against hers.
"My sweetheart!" he murmured. "Thank God you came!"...
She disengaged herself presently. A clock from the stables was striking.
She counted the hours.
"Eleven o'clock!" she exclaimed. "Herbert, how long have I been here?"
"Don't ask me that," he answered. "Only tell me how long you are
going to stay."
"Not another minute, really," she declared. "They will be sending out
search parties for me directly. And--Herbert--how did you get here?" she
demanded anxiously.
"I climbed over the wall," he answered cheerfully. "There didn't seem to
be any other way."
She seemed almost incredulous.
"Didn't you see any watchmen?" she asked.
"There was one at the gates," he answered. "I fancied he followed me up
the road, but I gave him the slip all right."
"Be careful how you go back," she begged. "This place is supposed to be
closely watched."
"Watched! Why?" he asked. "Are you afraid of robbers?"
"How much did the Baroness tell you?" she asked.
"Nothing, except that I should find you here," he declared. "She made me
promise that I would wait for an opportunity of seeing you alone."
"And why," she asked, "have you come?"
He took her into his arms again.
"I have learnt what love is," he murmured, "and I have forgotten the
other things."
"That is all very well," she laughed, smoothing out her hair; "but the
other things may be very important to me."
"A man named Stephen Heneage has taken up this Barnes affair," he
answered. "He saw you leave the flats that night, and he is likely, if he
thinks that it might lead to anything, to give the whole show away. He
warned me to get away from England and--but you want the truth, don't
you? All these are excuses! I came because I wanted you!--because I
couldn't live without you, Louise! Couldn't we steal away somewhere and
never go back? Why need we? We could go to Paris to-morrow, catch the
Orient express the next day--I know a dozen hiding-places where we should
be safe enough. We will make our own world and our own life--and forget!"
"Forget!" She drew a little away from him. Her tone chilled him.
"Herbert," she said, "whatever happens, I must go now--this moment. Where
are you stopping?"
"The _Lion d'Or_," he answered, "down in the village."
"I will send a note in the morning," she said eagerly. "Only you must go
now, dear. Some one will be out to look for me, and I cannot think--I
must have a little time to decide. Be very careful as you go back. If you
are stopped, be sure and make them understand that you are an Englishman.
Good night!"
He kissed her passionately. She yielded to his embrace, but almost
immediately drew herself away. He clutched at her hand, but she eluded
him. With swift footsteps she crossed the lawn. Just as she reached the
terrace, the windows opened once more and some one called her name.
"I am coming in now," he heard her answer. "It has been such a
wonderful night!"