In the morning Sholto MacKim had other views of it. Even when at lasthe was relieved from duty he never closed an eye. The blowing out ofthe lamp had turned his ideas and hopes all topsy-turvy. His heartsang loud and turbulent within him. He had kissed other girls indeedbefore at kirns and country dances. He laughed triumphantly within himat the difference. They had run into corners and screamed andstruggled, and held up ineffectual hands. And when his lips did reachtheir goal, it was generally upon the bridge of a nose or a tip of anear. He could not remember any especial pleasure accompanying therite.
But this! The bolt of an arbalast could not have given him a moreinstant or tremendous shock. His nerves still quivered responsive tothe tremulous yielding of the lips he had touched for a moment in thedark of the doorway. He felt that never could he be the same man hehad been before. Deep in his heart he laughed at the thought.
And then again, with a quick revulsion, the return wave came upon him."How, if she be as untouched as her beauty is fresh, has she learnedthat skill in caressing?"
He paused to think the matter over.
"I remember my father saying that a wise man should always mistrust agirl who kisses overwell."
Then again his better self would reassert itself.
"No," he would argue, tramping up and down the corridor, wheeling inthe short bounds of the turnpike head, and again returning upon hisown footsteps, "why should I belie her? She is as pure as theair--only, of course, she is different to all others. She speaksdifferently; her eyes are different, her hair, her hands--why shouldshe not be different also in this?"
But when Maud Lindesay met Sholto in the morning, coming suddenly uponhim as he stood, with a pale face and dark rings of sleeplessnessabout his eyes, as he looked meditatively out upon the broad river andthe blue smoke of the morning campfires, there was yet anotherdifference to be revealed to him. He had expected that, like others,she would be confused and bashful meeting him thus in the daylight,after--well, after the volcanic extinguishing of the lamp.
But there she stood, dainty and calm under the morning sunshine, infresh clean gown of lace and varied whiteness, her face grave as abenediction, her eyes deep and cool like the water of the castle well.
Sholto started violently at sight of her, recovered himself, andeagerly held out both his hands.
"Maud," he said hoarsely, and then again, in a lower tone, "sweetestMaud."
But pretty Mistress Lindesay only gazed at him with a certain reservedand grave surprise, looking him straight in the face and completelyignoring his outstretched hands.
"Captain Sholto," she said steadily and calmly, "the Lady Margaretdesires to see you and to thank you for your last night's care andwatchfulness. Will you do me the honour to follow me to her chamber?"
There was no yielding softness about this maiden of the morning hours,no conscious droop and a swift uplifting of penitent eyelids, nolingering glances out of love-weighted eyes. A brisk and practicallittle lady rather, her feet pattering most purposefully along theflagged passages and skipping faster than even Sholto could followher. But at the top of the second stairs he was overquick for her. Bytaking the narrow edges of the steps he reached the landing level withhis mistress.
His desire was to put out his hand to circle her lithe waist, fornothing is so certainly reproductive of its own species as a firstkiss. But he had reckoned without the lady's mutual intent and favour,which in matters of this kind are proverbially important. MistressMaud eluded him, without appearing to do so, and stood farther off,safely poised for flight, looking down at him with cold, reproachfuleyes.
"Maud Lindesay, have you forgotten last night and the lamp?" he askedindignantly.
"What may you mean, Captain Sholto?" she said, with wonderment in hertone, "Margaret and I never use lamps. Candles are so much safer,especially at night."