XX

In the afternoon Alec arrived. Julia's tender heart was touched by the

change wrought in him during the three months of his absence from town.

At the first glance there was little difference in him. He was still

cool and collected, with that air of expecting people to do his bidding

which had always impressed her; and there was still about him a

sensation of strength, which was very comfortable to weaker vessels. But

her sharp eyes saw that he held himself together by an effort of will,

and it was singularly painful to the onlooker. The strain had told on

him, and there was in his haggard eyes, in the deliberate firmness of

his mouth, a tension which suggested that he was almost at the end of

his tether. He was sterner than before and more silent. Julia could see

how deeply he had suffered, and his suffering had been greater because

of his determination to conquer it at all costs. She longed to go to him

and beg him not to be too hard upon himself. Things would have gone more

easily with him, if he had allowed himself a little weakness. But he was

softer too, and she no longer felt the slight awe which to her till then

had often made intercourse difficult. His first words were full of an

unexpected kindness.

'I'm so glad to be able to congratulate you,' he said, holding her hand

and smiling with that rare, sweet smile of his. 'I was a little unhappy

at leaving Dick; but now I leave him in your hands I'm perfectly

content. He's the dearest, kindest old chap I've ever known.'

'Shut up, Alec,' cried Dick promptly. 'Don't play the heavy father, or

Julia will burst into tears. She loves having a good cry.'

But Alec ignored the interruption.

'He'll be an admirable husband because he's been an admirable friend.'

For the first time Julia thought Alec altogether wise and charming.

'I know he will,' she answered happily. 'And I'm only prevented from

saying all I think of him by the fear that he'll become perfectly

unmanageable.'

'Spare me the chaste blushes which mantle my youthful brow, and pour out

the tea, Julia,' said Dick.

She laughed and proceeded to do as he requested.

'And are you really starting for Africa so soon?' Julia asked, when they

were settled around the tea-table.

Alec threw back his head, and his face lit up.

'I am. Everything is fixed up; the bother of collecting supplies and

getting porters has been taken off my shoulders, and all I have to do is

to get along as quickly as possible.'

'I wish to goodness you'd give up these horrible explorations,' cried

Dick. 'They make the rest of us feel so abominably unadventurous.'

'But they're the very breath of my nostrils,' answered Alec. 'You don't

know the exhilaration of the daily dangers, the joy of treading where

only the wild beasts have trodden before.'

'I freely confess that I don't want to,' said Dick.

Alec sprang up and stretched his legs. As he spoke all signs of

lassitude disappeared, and he was seized with an excitement that was

rarely seen in him.

'Already I can hardly bear my impatience when I think of the boundless

country and the enchanting freedom. Here one grows so small, so mean;

but in Africa everything is built to a nobler standard. There the man is

really a man. There one knows what are will and strength and courage.

You don't know what it is to stand on the edge of some great plain and

breathe the pure keen air after the terrors of the forest.'

'The boundless plain of Hyde Park is enough for me,' said Dick. 'And the

aspect of Piccadilly on a fine day in June gives me quite as many

emotions as I want.'

But Julia was moved by Alec's unaccustomed rhetoric, and she looked at

him earnestly.

'But what will you gain by it now that your work is over--by all the

danger and all the hardships?'

He turned his dark, solemn eyes upon her.

'Nothing. I want to gain nothing. Perhaps I shall discover some new

species of antelope or some unknown plant. I may be fortunate enough to

find a new waterway. That is all the reward I want. I love the sense of

power and the mastery. What do you think I care for the tinsel rewards

of kings and peoples!'

'I always said you were melodramatic,' said Dick. 'I never heard

anything so transpontine.'

'And the end of it?' asked Julia, almost in a whisper. 'What will be the

end?'

A faint smile played for an instant upon Alec's lips. He shrugged his

shoulders.

'The end is death. But I shall die standing up. I shall go the last

journey as I have gone every other.'

He stopped, for he would not add the last two words. Julia said them for

him.

'Without fear.'

'For all the world like the wicked baronet,' cried the mocking Dick.

'Once aboard the lugger, and the gurl is mine.'

Julia reflected for a little while. She did not want to resist the

admiration with which Alec filled her. But she shuddered. He did not

seem to fit in with the generality of men.

'Don't you want people to remember you?' she asked.

'Perhaps they will,' he answered slowly. 'Perhaps in a hundred years, in

some flourishing town where I discovered nothing but wilderness, they

will commission a second-rate sculptor to make a fancy statue of me. And

I shall stand in front of the Stock Exchange, a convenient perch for

birds, to look eternally upon the shabby deeds of human kind.'

He gave a short, abrupt laugh, and his words were followed by silence.

Julia gave Dick a glance which he took to be a signal that she wished to

be alone with Alec.

'Forgive me if I leave you for one minute,' he said.

He got up and left the room. The silence still continued, and Alec

seemed immersed in thought. At last Julia answered him.

'And is that really all? I can't help thinking that at the bottom of

your heart there is something that you've never told to a living soul.'

He looked at her, and their eyes met. He felt suddenly her extraordinary

sympathy and her passionate desire to help him. And as though the bonds

of the flesh were loosened, it seemed to him that their very souls faced

one another. The reserve which was his dearest habit fell away from him,

and he felt an urgent desire to say that which a curious delicacy had

prevented him from every betraying to callous ears.

'I daresay I shall never see you again, and perhaps it doesn't much

matter what I say to you. You'll think me very silly, but I'm afraid I'm

rather--patriotic. It's only we who live away from England who really

love it. I'm so proud of my country, and I wanted so much to do

something for it. Often in Africa I've thought of this dear England and

longed not to die till I had done my work.'

His voice shook a little, and he paused. It seemed to Julia that she saw

the man for the first time, and she wished passionately that Lucy could

hear those words of his which he spoke so shyly, and yet with such a

passionate earnestness.

'Behind all the soldiers and the statesmen whose fame is imperishable

there is a long line of men who've built up the empire piece by piece.

Their names are forgotten, and only students know their history, but

each one of them gave a province to his country. And I too have my place

among them. Year after year I toiled, night and day, and at last I was

able to hand over to the commissioner a broad tract of land, rich and

fertile. After my death England will forget my faults and my mistakes;

and I care nothing for the flouts and gibes with which she has repaid

all my pain, for I have added another fair jewel to her crown. I don't

want rewards; I only want the honour of serving this dear land of ours.'

Julia went up to him and laid her hand gently on his arm.

'Why is it, when you're so nice really, that you do all you can to make

people think you utterly horrid?'

'Don't laugh at me because you've found out that at bottom I'm nothing

more than a sentimental old woman.'

'I don't want to laugh at you. But if I didn't think it would embarrass

you so dreadfully, I should certainly kiss you.'

He smiled and lifting her hand to his lips, lightly kissed it.

'I shall begin to think I'm a very wonderful woman if I've taught you to

do such pretty things as that.'

She made him sit down, and then she sat by his side.

'I'm very glad you came to-day. I wanted to talk to you. Will you be

very angry if I say something to you?'

'I don't think so,' he smiled.

'I want to speak to you about Lucy.'

He drew himself suddenly together, and the expansion of his mood

disappeared. He was once more the cold, reserved man of their habitual

intercourse.

'I'd rather you didn't,' he said briefly.

But Julia was not to be so easily put off.

'What would you do if she came here to-day?' she asked.

He turned round and looked at her sharply, then answered with great

deliberation.

'I have always lived in polite society. I should never dream of

outraging its conventions. If Lucy happened to come, you may be sure

that I should be scrupulously polite.'

'Is that all?' she cried.

He did not answer, and into his face came a wild fierceness that

appalled her. She saw the effort he was making at self-control. She

wished with all her heart that he would be less brave.

'I think you might not be so hard if you knew how desperately Lucy has

suffered.'

He looked at her again, and his eyes were filled with bitterness, with

angry passion at the injustice of fate. Did she think that he had not

suffered? Because he did not whine his misery to all and sundry, did she

think he did not care? He sprang up and walked to the other end of the

room. He did not want that woman, for all her kindness, to see his face.

He was not the man to fall in and out of love with every pretty girl he

met. All his life he had kept an ideal before his eyes. He turned to

Julia savagely.

'You don't know what it meant to me to fall in love. I felt that I had

lived all my life in a prison, and at last Lucy came and took me by the

hand, and led me out. And for the first time I breathed the free air of

heaven.'

He stopped abruptly, clenching his jaws. He would not tell her how

bitterly he had suffered for it, he would not tell her of his angry

rebelliousness because all that pain should have come to him. He wanted

nobody to know the depths of his agony and of his despair. But he would

not give way. He felt that, if he did not keep a tight hold on himself,

he would break down and shake with passionate sobbing. He felt a sudden

flash of hatred for Julia because she sat there and watched his

weakness. But as though she saw at what a crisis of emotion he was,

Julia turned her eyes from him and looked down at the ground. She did

not speak. She felt the effort he was making to master himself, and she

was infinitely disturbed. She wanted to go to him and comfort him, but

she knew he would repel her. He wanted to fight his battle unaided.

At last he conquered, but when he spoke again, his voice was singularly

broken. It was hoarse and low.

'My love was the last human weakness I had. It was right that I should

drink that bitter cup. And I've drunk its very dregs. I should have

known that I wasn't meant for happiness and a life of ease. I have other

work to do in the world.'

He paused for a moment, and his calmness was restored to him.

'And now that I've overcome this last temptation I am ready to do it.'

'But haven't you any pity for yourself? Haven't you any thought for

Lucy?'

'Must I tell you, too, that everything I did was for Lucy's sake? And

still I love her with all my heart and soul.'

There was no bitterness in his tone now; it was gentle and resigned. He

had, indeed, won the battle. Julia's eyes were filled with tears, and

she could not answer. He came forward and shook hands with her.

'You mustn't cry,' he said, smiling. 'You're one of those persons whose

part it is to bring sunshine into the lives of those with less fortunate

dispositions. You must always be happy and childlike.'

'I've got lots of handkerchiefs, thanks,' she sobbed, laughing the

while.

'You must forget all the nonsense I've talked to you,' he said.

He smiled once more and was gone.

Dick was sitting in his bedroom, reading an evening paper, and she flung

herself sobbing into his arms.

'Oh, Dick, I've had such a lovely cry, and I'm so happy and so utterly

wretched. And I'm sure I shall have a red nose.'

'Darling, I've long discovered that you only weep because you're the

only person in the world to whom it's thoroughly becoming.'

'Don't be horrid and unsympathetic. I think Alec MacKenzie's a perfect

dear. I wanted to kiss him, only I was afraid it would frighten him to

death.'

'I'm glad you didn't. He would have thought you a forward hussy.'

'I wish I could have married him, too,' cried Julia, 'I'm sure he'd make

a nice husband.'