CHAPTER IX
THE CONSUMING FIRE
As he turned towards her, there came upon Stella, swift as a stabthrough the heart, the memory of that terrible night more than a yearbefore when he had drawn her into his room and fastened the windowbehind her--against whom? His wild words rushed upon her. She had deemedthem to be directed against the unknown intruder on the verandah. Sheknew now that the madness that had loosed his tongue had moved him toutter his fierce threat against a man who was dead--against the man whomhe had--She stopped the thought as she would have checked the wordhalf-spoken. She turned shivering away. The man on the verandah, thatvision of the night-watches, she saw it all now--she saw it all. And hehad loved her before her marriage. And he had known--and he hadknown--that, given opportunity, he could win her for his own.
Like a throbbing undersong--the fiendish accompaniment to the devils'chorus--the gossip of the station as detailed by Tessa ran with glibmockery through her brain. Ah, they only suspected. But she knew--sheknew! The door of that secret chamber had opened wide to her at last,and perforce she had entered in.
He had moved forward, but he had not spoken. At least she fancied not,but all her senses were in an uproar. And above it all she seemed tohear that dreadful little thrumming instrument down by the river atUdalkhand--the tinkling, mystic call of the vampire goddess,--India theinsatiable who had made him what he was.
He came to her, and every fibre of her being was aware of him andthrilled at his coming. Never had she loved him as she loved him then,but her love was a fiery torment that burned and consumed her soul. Sheseemed to feel it blistering, shrivelling, in the cruel heat.
Almost before she knew it, she had broken her silence, speaking as itwere in spite of herself, scarcely knowing in her anguish what she said.
"Yes, I know. I know what you are going to say. You are going to tell methat I belong to you. And of course it is true,--I do. But if I staywith you, I shall be--a murderess. Nothing will alter that."
"Stella!" he said.
His voice was stern, so stern that she flinched. He laid his hand uponher, and she shrank as she would have shrunk from a hot iron searing herflesh. She had a wild thought that she would bear the brand of it forever.
"Stella," he said again, and in both tone and action there wascompulsion. "I have come to tell you that you are making a mistake. I aminnocent of this thing you suspect me of."
She stood unresisting in his hold, but she was shaking all over. Thefloor seemed to be rising and falling under her feet. She knew that herlips moved several times before she could make them speak.
"But I don't suspect," she said. "The others suspect. I--know."
He received her words in silence. She saw his face as through a shiftingvapour, very pale, very determined, with eyes of terrible intensitydominating her own.
Half mechanically she repeated herself. It was as if that devilishthrumming in her brain compelled her. "The others suspect. I--know."
"I see," he said at last. "And nothing I can say will make anydifference?"
"Oh, no!" she made answer, and scarcely knew that she spoke, so cold andnumb had she become. "How could it--now?"
He looked at her, and suddenly he saw that to which his own sufferinghad momentarily blinded him. He saw her utter weakness. With a swifpassionate movement he caught her to him. For a second or two he heldher so, strained against his heart, then almost fiercely he turned herface up to his own and kissed the stiff white lips.
"Be it so then!" he said, and in his voice was a deep note as though hechallenged all the powers of evil. "You are mine--and mine you willremain."
She did not resist him though the touch of his lips was terrible to her.Only as they left her own, she turned her face aside. Very strangelythat savage lapse of his had given her strength.
"Physically--perhaps--but only for a little while," she said gaspingly."And in spirit, never--never again!"
"What do you mean?" he said, his arms tightening about her.
She kept her face averted. "I mean--that some forms of torture are worsethan death. If it comes to that--if you compel me--I shall choosedeath."
"Stella!" He let her go so suddenly that she nearly fell. The utteranceof her name was as a cry wrung from him by sheer agony. He turned fromher with his hands over his face. "My God!" he said, and again almostinarticulately, "My--God!"
The low utterance pierced her, yet she stood motionless, her handsgripped hard together. He had forced the words from her, and they werepast recall. Nor would she have recalled them, had she been able, for itseemed to her that her love had become an evil thing, and her wholebeing shrank from it in a species of horrified abhorrence, even thoughshe could not cast it out.
He had turned towards the window, and she watched him, her heart beatingin slow, hard strokes with a sound like a distant drum. Would he go?Would he remain? She almost prayed aloud that he would go.
But he did not. Very suddenly he turned and strode back to her. Therewas purpose in every line of him, but there was no longer any violence.
He halted before her. "Stella," he said, and his voice was perfectlysteady and controlled, "do you think you are being altogether fair tome?"
She wrung her clasped hands. She could not answer him.
He took them into his own very quietly. "Just look me in the face for aminute!" he said.
She yearned to disobey, but she could not. Dumbly she raised her eyes tohis.
He waited a moment, very still and composed. Then he spoke. "Stella, Iswear to you--and I call God to witness--that I did not kill RalphDacre."
A dreadful shiver went through her at the bald brief words. She felt, asTommy had felt a little earlier, physically sick. The beating of herheart was getting slower and slower. She wondered if presently it wouldstop.
"Do you believe me?" he said, still holding her eyes with his, stillclasping her icy hands firmly between his own.
She forced herself to speak before that horrible sense of nauseaovercame her. "Perhaps--David--said the same thing--about Uriah theHittite."
His face changed a little, but it was a change she could not havedefined. His eyes remained inscrutably fixed upon hers. They seemed toenchain her quivering soul.
"No," he said quietly. "Nor did I employ any one else to do it."
"But you were there!" The words seemed suddenly to burst from herwithout her own volition.
He drew back sharply, as if he had been struck. But he kept his eyesupon hers. "I can't explain anything," he said. "I am not here toexplain. I only came to see if your love was great enough to make youbelieve in me--in spite of all there seems to be against me. Is it,Stella? Is it?"
His words seemed to go through her, tearing a way to her heart; theagony was more than she could bear. She uttered an anguished cry, andwrenched herself from him. "It isn't a question of love!" she said. "Youknow it isn't a question of love! I never wanted to love you. I neverwholly trusted you. But you forced my love--though you couldn't compelmy trust. And now that I know--now that I know--" her voice broke as ifthe torture were too great for her; she flung out her hands with agesture of driving him from her--"oh, it is hell on earth--hell onearth!"
He drew back for a second before her, his face deathly white. And thensuddenly an awful light leapt in his eyes. He gripped her outflunghands. The fire had kindled to a flame and the torture was too much forhim also.
"Then you shall love me--even in hell!" he said, through his clenchedteeth, and locked her in the iron circle of his arms.
She did not resist him. She was very near the end of her strength. Only,as he held her, her eyes met his, mutely imploring him....
It reached him even in his madness, that unspoken appeal. It checked himin the mid-furnace of his passion. His hold relaxed as if at a word ofcommand. He put her into a chair and turned himself from her.
The next moment he was fumbling desperately at the window fastening. Thenight met him on the threshold. He heard her weeping, piteously,hopelessly, as he went away.<
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