and waited for her to come up to me.Others might be with her and the moment inopportune for our encounter.She walked with slow steps. Care had written its story upon her sweetface. I saw that she was alone, and I put out my hand and touched herupon the arm.
"Miss Ruth," said I, so soft that I wonder she heard me--"Miss Ruth,it's Jasper Begg. Don't you know me?"
She turned swiftly, but did not cry out. One wild look she cast aboutthe half, with one swift glance she made sure of every door, and then,and only then, she answered me.
"Jasper, Jasper! Is it really Jasper Begg?" she cried, with a look ofjoy and gratitude I never shall forget.
Now, she had asked a woman's natural question; but I shall always saythat there never were wits quicker than Ruth Bellenden's; and hardlywere the useless words out of her mouth than she drew back to the roomshe had left; and when I had entered it after her she closed the doorand listened a little while for any sounds. When none came to troubleher she advanced a step, and so we two stood face to face at last, inas pretty a place as all London, or all Europe for that matter, couldshow you.
Let me try to picture that scene for you as it comes to me when I writeof it and seek to bring it back to my memory. A trim, well-kept cabin,such I call her room--a boudoir the French would name it--all hunground with pale rose silk, and above that again an artist's picturesupon a wall of cream. Little tables stood everywhere and women'sknick-knacks upon them; there were deep chairs which invited you tosit, covered in silks and satins, and cushioned so that a big man mightbe afraid of them.
Upon the mantel-shelf a clock from Paris swung a jewelled pendulum, andcandlesticks matched it on either side. A secretaire, littered overwith papers and bright with silver ornaments, had its back to theseaward wall; a round window, cut in the rock above it, stood hidden bycurtains of the richest brocade. The carpet, I said, was from Turkey;the mats from Persia. In the grate the wood-fire glowed warmingly. RuthBellenden herself, the mistress of the room, capped the whole, and shewas gowned in white, with rubies and diamonds strung about her statelyneck, and all that air of proud command I had admired so much inthe days bygone. Aye, such a scene, believe me, as a grand Londondrawing-room might show you any night of London's months you care toname, and yet so different from that. And I, a plain sailor, foundmyself thrust forward there to my confusion, yet feeling, despite itall, that the woman I spoke to was woman at heart, as I was man. A fewdays ago I had come to her to say, "You have need of me." To-night itwas her lot to answer me with my own words.
"Jasper," she said, her hand still on the switch of the lamp, "whatmiracle brings you to this place?"
"No miracle, Miss Ruth," said I, "but a plain road, and five men'snecessity. We were dying on Ken's Island and we found a path under thesea. It was starvation one way, surrender the other; I am here to tellMr. Czerny everything and to trust my life to him."
Now, she heard me almost with angry surprise; and coming forward intothe light she stood before me with clasped hands and heated face.
"No," she said, and her "No" was a thing for a man to hear. "No, no;you shall never tell my husband that. And, oh, Jasper!" she cried uponit, "how ill you look--how changed!"
"My looks don't tell the truth," said I, not wishing to speak ofmyself; "I am up and down like a barometer in the tropics. The plainfact is, Miss Ruth, that the ship's gone, clean gone! I gave MisterJacob the sure order to stand by us for three days, and that he didn'tdo. It means, then, that he couldn't. I greatly fear some accident hasovertaken him; but he'll come back yet as I'm a living man!"
She heard me like one dazed: her eyes were everywhere about the room,as though seeking something she could not find. Presently she openedthe door with great caution, and was gone a minute or more. When shereturned she had a flask of spirits and some biscuits in her hand, andthis time, I noticed, she locked the door after her.
"Edmond is sleeping; they have sent Aunt Rachel to Tokio," she almostwhispered; "Benno, our servant, is to be trusted. I heard that you werestarving in the hills; but how could I help--how could I, Jasper? Itwas madness for you to come here, and yet I am glad--so glad! And oh,"she says, "we'll find a way; we'll find a way yet, Jasper!"
I poured some brandy from the flask, for I had need of it, and gulpedit down at a draught. Her vivacity was always a thing to charm a man;as a girl she had the laughter and the spirits of ten.
"What shall we do, Jasper?" she kept on saying, "what shall we do next?Oh, to think that it's you, to think that it is Jasper Begg in thisstrange house!" she kept crying; "and no way out of it, no safetyanywhere! Jasper, what shall we do--what shall we do next?"
"We shall tell your husband, Miss Ruth," said I, "and leave the lastword with him. Why, think of it, five men cast adrift on his shore, andthey to starve. Is he devil or man that he refuses them food and drink?I'll not believe it until I hear it. The lowest in humanity would neverdo such a thing! Aye, you are judging him beyond ordinary when youbelieve it. So much I make bold to say!"
I turned to the fire, and began to warm my fingers at it, while she, forher part, drew up one of the silk-covered chairs, and sat with herpretty head resting in a tired way between her little hands. All ourtalk up to this time had been broken fragments; but this I judged thetime for a just explanation, and she was not less willing.
"Jasper," says she of a sudden, "have you read what I wrote in thebook?"
"To the last line," said I.
"And, reading it, you will ask Edmond to help you?"
"Miss Ruth," said I, "how shall one man judge another? Ships come tothis shore, and are wrecked on it. Now and then, perchance, there isfoul play among the hands. Are you sure that your husband has any partin it--are you sure he's as bad as you think him?"
Well, instead of answering me, she stood up suddenly and let her dressfall by the shoulder-knots. I saw the white flesh beneath bruised andwealed, as though a whip had cut it, and I knew that this was herwitness to her story. What was in my heart at such a sight I would haveno man know; but my fingers closed about the pistol I carried, and mytongue would speak no word.
"Why do you compel me to speak?" she went on, meanwhile. "Am I to tellof all the things I have seen and suffered on this dreadful place inthe year--can it be only that?--the long, weary year I have lived here?Do you believe, Jasper, that a man can fill his house with gold as thisis filled--this wild house so far from the world--and fill it honestly?Shall I say, 'Yes, I have misjudged him,' the man who has shot myservant here in this room and left me with the dead? Shall I say thathe is a good man because sometimes, when he has ceased to kill andtorture those who serve him, he acts as other men? Oh, I could win muchif I could say that; I could win, perhaps, all that a woman desires.But I shall never speak--never; I shall live as I am living until I amold, when nothing matters!"
It was a very bitter and a very surprising thing for me to hear herspeak in this way. Trouble I knew she must have suffered on Ken'sIsland; but this was a story beyond all imagination. And what could Isay to her, what comfort give her--I, a rough-hearted sailor, who,nevertheless, would have cut off my own right hand if that could haveserved her? Indeed, to be truthful, I had nothing to say, and there wewere for many minutes, she upon one side of the fire and I upon theother, as two that gazed into the reddening embers and would have foundsome old page of our life therein recorded.
"Miss Ruth," said I at last, and I think she knew what I meant, "Iwould have given much not to have heard this thing to-night; but as itis spoken--if it were twenty times as bad for me and those with me--Iam glad we came to Ken's Island. The rest you will anticipate and thereis no need for me to talk about it. The day that sees me sail away willfind a cabin-passenger aboard my ship. Her name I will not mention, forit is known to you. Aye, by all a man's promise she shall sail with meor I will never tread a ship's deck again."
It was earnestly meant, and that, I am sure, Miss Ruth knew, for sheput her hand upon mine, and, though she made no mention of what I hadsaid, there was a look in her eyes which I was glad to see there
. Hernext question surprised me altogether.
"Jasper," she asked, with something of a smile, "do you remember when Iwas married?"
"Remember it!" cried I; and I am sure she must have seen the blood rushup to my face. "Why, of course, I remember it! How should a man forgeta thing like that?"
"Yes," she went on, and neither looked at the other now, "I was a girlthen, and all the world was my playground. Every day was a flower topick; the night was music and laughter. How I used to people the worldmy hopes created--such romantic figures they were, such nonsense! WhenEdmond Czerny met me at Nice, I think he