CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE DUTY OF A WIFE
Just as we were about to start Marjory said to me, half in jest butwholly in earnest:
"I wonder what has become of Gormala these times. If she knew of thelast two nights, she would simply become desperate; and there is noknowing what she might prophecy!"
Strangely enough, I had been myself thinking of the Witch-woman. Isuppose it was that the memory of the finding of the treasure, andof the hovering near us of death, had recalled her weirds. With thethought of her, came once more that strange feeling which I had beforeexperienced, a feeling as if she were present. Motioning to Marjory toput out the light, I stole to the window. The heavy curtains, when I hadpassed through them, shut out the glimmer of the firelight. Marjory cameand joined me, and we looked out together. There were drifting clouds,and thus, moments of light and shadow. In one of the former I saw a darkmass on the edge of the deep grass that crowns the rock just over theentrance of Witsennan Point. If it was a woman it was probably Gormala;and if it was Gormala she was probably watching me, for of course shecould not know that Marjory was with me. I determined to find out if Icould; so I told Marjory to slip out by the back door whilst I went tothe point. We arranged to join at the upper village of old Whinnyfold.
Having placed my bicycle ready to start, and shut the door behind mesoftly, I stole over to the cliff. Lying just below the edge, but sothat her head was at the top lay Gormala, asleep. At first I thoughtit was pretence, for I knew the wily nature of the old woman; but onexamining closely I found her sleep was real. She looked worn and tiredout, and I concluded that it was the second night of watching on endwhich had finished her. It was well she slept, for had she been awakeshe must have seen us. The place she had chosen commanded both pathsaway from the house left and right; only by stealing back over the hilland keeping the house all the time between us and herself could we haveavoided her prying eyes. Even then, were there light enough, she mighthave seen us debouching on the roadway had we gone inland by Whinnyfold.I could not but be sorry for her; she looked so old and feeble, andyet with such purpose in her strong, stern face. I could afford to bepitiful now; my life was running on happy lines. I had won Marjory, andwe had found the treasure!
I left her undisturbed; I would have put some rug or covering over her;but I was afraid lest I should awake her, and so make discovery of ourplans. Besides it would be hard to account for my being awake myself andabout at that hour of the night--or morning, I hardly knew which it was.Almost as hard as it would have been for Gormala to explain why she wasin similar case.
When I joined Marjory, we took our way as quickly as possible toCrom; we were both anxious that she should get into the castle beforedaylight. It was with a certain dread, for the experiences of the nightwere not yet hardened in memory, that I saw Marjory descend into thecave when we rolled away the stone. She too was not free from misgiving;I knew it from the emphasis with which she impressed on me that I wasnot to fear for her. She was to wave a white handkerchief from the roofwhen she had got in safely.
Looking over the stone towards the castle whence must come her signal Iwaited with an anxiety which I could not conceal from myself. The greydawn grew paler and paler as I looked, and the sky began to quicken.Here and there around me came every now and again the solitary pipe ofan awakening bird. I could just see the top of the castle, looking bareand cold through the vista between the treetops. In a short time, almostshorter than I could have anticipated, I saw on the roof the flutter ofa white handkerchief. My heart leaped; Marjory was safe. I waved my ownhandkerchief; she answered again, and there was no more sign. I cameaway satisfied, and wheeled back to Cruden with what speed I could. Itwas still very early morning, when I reached Whinnyfold. Not a soul wasup as I passed on my way, and I crept in secretly by the back of thehouse.
When I looked carefully out of a window in front, I could see in thegrowing light of morning that Gormala still lay on the edge of thecliff, motionless and manifestly asleep.
I lay down for a while and dozed till the morning was sufficientlyadvanced. Then after a cold bath and a cup of hot tea, took my way toCrom, timing myself so as to arrive for an early breakfast.
Mrs. Jack met me, beaming. She was so hearty, and so manifestly glad tosee me, that I bent over and kissed her. She was not a bit displeased;she seemed a little touched by the act, and smiled at me. Then Marjorycame in, looking radiant. She greeted me with a smile, and went over toand kissed Mrs. Jack affectionately. Then she kissed me too, and therewas a glad look in her eyes which made my heart thrill.
After breakfast she sat in the window with Mrs. Jack, and I went to thefireplace to light a cigarette. I stood with my back to the fire andlooked over at Marjory; it was always a joy to me when she was in mysight. Presently she said to Mrs. Jack:
"Weren't you frightened when I didn't come back the night before last?"The elderly lady smiled complacently as she answered:
"Not a bit, my dear!" Marjory was astonished into an exclamation:
"Why not?" The affectionate old woman looked at her gravely andtenderly:
"Because I knew you were with your husband; the safest place where ayoung woman can be. And oh! my dear, I was rejoiced that it was so; forI was beginning to be anxious, and almost unhappy about you. It didn'tseem right or natural for two young people like you and your husband tobe living, one in one place and one in another." As she spoke she tookMarjory's hand in hers and stroked it lovingly. Marjory turned herhead away from her, and, after one swift glance at me from under hereyelashes, from me also. Mrs. Jack went on in a grave, sweet way,lecturing the girl she loved and that she had mothered; not as a womanlectures a child but as an old woman advises her junior:
"For oh! Marjory, my dear one, when a woman takes a husband she givesup herself. It is right that she should; and it is better too, for uswomen. How can we look after our mankind, if we're thinking of ourselvesall the time! And they want a lot of looking after too, let me tell you.They're only men after all--the dears! Your bringing-up, my child, hasnot made you need them. But you would well understand it, if when youwas a child, you was out on the plains and among the mountains, like Iwas; if you didn't know when you saw your daddy, or your brother, oryour husband go out in the morning whether you'd ever see him come backat night, or would see him brought back. And then, when the work wasover, or the fight or whatever it might be, to see them come home alldirty and ragged and hungry, and may be sick or wounded--for the Indiansmade a lot of harm in my time with their good old bows and their bad newguns--where would we women and girls have been. Or what sort of womenat all at all, if we didn't have things ready for them! My dear, as Isuppose you know now, a man is a mighty good sort of a thing after all.He may be cross, or masterful, or ugly to deal with when he has got hisshirt out; but after all he's a man, and that's what we love them for.I was beginning to wonder if you was a girl at all, when I see you letyour husband go away from you day after day and you not either holdin'him back, or goin' off with him, way the girls did in my time. I tellyou it would have been a queer kind of girl in Arizony that'd have lether man go like that, when once they had said the word together. Why, mydear, I lay awake half the night sayin' my prayers for the both of you,and blessin' God that He had sent you such a happiness as true love;when there might have been them that would have ben runnin' after yourfortun' and gettin' on your weak side enough to throw dust in your eyes.And when in the grey of the dawn I looked into your room and found youhadn't come, why I just tip-toed back to my bed and went to sleep happy.And I was happy all day, knowin' you were happy too. And last night Ijust went to sleep at once and didn't bother my head about listenin' foryour comin'; for well I knew you wouldn't be home then. Ah! my dear,you've done the right thing. At the least, your husband's wishes is asmuch as your own, seein' as how there's two of you. But a woman onlylearns her true happiness when she gives up all her own wishes, andthinks only for her husband. And, mind you, child, it isn't givin' upmuch after all--at least we didn't think
so in my time--when she pleasesher husband that she loves, by goin' off to share his home."
I listened full of deep emotion as the old lady spoke. I felt that everyword she said was crystallised truth; and there was no questioning thedeep, earnest, loving-kindness of her intent. I was half afraid to lookat Marjory lest I should disconcert her; so I turned round quietly tillI faced the fireplace, and leaning on the plinth of it stole a glance inthe old oval mirror above. Marjory sat there with her hand in Mrs.Jack's. Her head was bent, and there was a flush on her neck and armswhich told its own story. I felt that she was silently crying, or verynear it; and a lump rose in my own throat. This was one of the crises inher life. It was so borne in upon me; and I knew its truth. We have all,as the Scotch say, to "dree our own weird," this was a battle with herown soul which Marjory must fight alone. The old woman's wise wordssounded a trumpet note of duty. She was face to face with it, and mustjudge for herself. Even with all my love, I could not help her. I stoodsilent, scarcely daring to breathe lest I should disturb or distracther. I tried to efface myself, and for a few minutes did not even lookin the mirror. The old woman too, knew the value of silence, for she satstill; there was not even the rustle of her dress. At last I could hearMarjory's in-drawn breath, and looked in the mirror. Her attitude hadnot changed, except that she had raised her head; I could tell by itsproud poise that she was her own woman again. She still kept her faceaway; and there was the veil of recent tears over her sweet voice as shespoke tenderly:
"Thank you, dear. I am so glad you have spoken to me so freely and solovingly." I could see from the motion of the two hands and her ownwhitening knuckles that she was squeezing her companion's fingers.Then, after a few moments she rose quietly, and, still keeping her headaverted, sailed quietly out of the room in her own graceful manner. Idid not stir; I felt that I could please her best by keeping quiet.
But oh! how my heart went with her in her course.