Read The Woman's Way Page 21


  CHAPTER XXI

  Derrick's mind was in a condition of joyous confusion as the train borehim in a slow and leisurely fashion towards Thexford. Predominant, ofcourse, was the thought that he was on his way to see the girl of hisheart. But presently he began to think of the strange old man who hadset him that way. Naturally enough, Derrick felt curious about him; forhe had been much struck and interested by the old man's appearance andmanner. Derrick knew a gentleman when he saw him, and he knew that Mr.Clendon was a gentleman and one of a very fine type; seen in befittingsurroundings, Mr. Clendon would have filled completely the part of anobleman; and yet he was poor and living in Brown's Buildings. Derrickfelt strangely drawn towards the old man, but told himself that it wasbecause Mr. Clendon was a friend of Celia's--Derrick had already learnedto call her 'Celia' in his mind.

  Then the fact that she was librarian to Lord Sutcombe recurred to him.It was a strange coincidence, one of the strangest; and as he faced it,Derrick's intention to go straight to the Hall and ask for Celia becamechanged. He did not want to meet the Sutcombes: it was just possiblethat Heyton and Miriam would be there; and most certainly he did notwant to meet them. He uttered a groan of impatience: he would not beable to go to the Hall; he would have to find some means of meeting herelsewhere; every moment of delay, every moment that stood between himand the sight of her, assumed the length of years. With his brows knit,and his heart in a state of rebellion, he got out at the little stationand looked round him wistfully, irresolutely.

  There was a fly at the station steps, but he was in too much of a feverto ride in a crawling vehicle, and he inquired of a sleepy porter thedirection of the nearest inn.

  "There's no inn here, sir," said the man. "You see, this is really onlythe station for the Hall; but you'll find a small kind of place in thevillage farther on; it's called Fleckfield; it's rather more than acouple of miles."

  Derrick gave his small portmanteau to the flyman and told him to drivethere, and he himself set out walking.

  Climbing a hill at a little distance from the station, he caught sightof the tower of a big house and knew that it must be Thexford Hall. And,within those walls, was the girl he loved! He set his teeth and strodeon, resentful of every yard that took him from her instead of to her.

  A signpost directed him to Fleckfield, and presently he came to thevillage and to the little inn in the middle of the single street. It wasa rustic looking place, with the usual bench and table outside it; andon the former was seated a young fellow in a knicker-bocker suit. He waswriting busily on a pad which rested on his knee, and he looked up withan absent, far-away expression in his eyes as Derrick strode in upon hissolitude.

  "Good afternoon," he said, pleasantly, when he had come down from theclouds; for it was Reggie Rex, busy on the outline of his novel.

  Derrick returned the salutation and sank on to the bench beside him; andReggie, after a comprehensive glance, and one of distinct approval,said:

  "You look hot, sir. Have a drink. I can recommend the local ale. It isgood though not particularly intoxicating."

  "Thanks," said Derrick; and he made short work of the tankard ofhome-brewed which the landlord brought him. "Are you staying here?" heinquired. "I ask, because I want a room for a night or two."

  "That's all right," said Reggie. "They'll be able to give you a room, Ithink. Your portmanteau has arrived already. Is your name Grey?"

  "No," replied Derrick, staring at him with pardonable surprise. "SydneyGreen."

  "Oh, well, it wasn't a bad guess," said Reggie, complacently. "I saw 'S.G.' on your portmanteau, and 'Green' seemed so obvious that I hit onGrey."

  "Are you a detective?" asked Derrick, with a laugh.

  "Wish I were!" responded Reggie, with a groan. "No; I'm an author,novelist; and I'm engaged on a big detective story. That's why I get allthe practice I can. You come from South Africa?"

  "Wrong; guess again," said Derrick, with a smile.

  "Then what do you mean by that tanned face?" demanded Reggie,indignantly.

  "You can get tanned in other places than South Africa," said Derrick."I'd tell you where I come from, but I've a feeling that I should spoilyour enjoyment in finding out for yourself. Besides, if I did tell youthat much, you'd want to know why I have come here."

  "Quite right," assented Reggie, approvingly. "That's just what I shouldwant to know. But don't you trouble; I shall find out quick enough. Anddon't be offended," he added. "You see, I'm obsessed--that's the newword, you know--by this detective business. I want to find outeverything about everybody. But there's no harm in me; it's a kind ofmonomania; and if you don't want me to be inquisitive, just say so."

  There was something so inoffensive in this young man's eccentricity,that Derrick found it impossible to be affronted; he leant back, filledhis pipe, and smoked in silence for a minute or two; then, driven by theardour of his desire, by that longing to talk round about, if notdirectly of, his heart's idol, which obsesses--as Reggie wouldsay--every lover, he said, half-ashamed of his impulse,

  "Have you been staying long in these parts; do you happen to know aplace about here called Thexford Hall?"

  Reggie surveyed him through half-closed eyes for a moment or two; thenhe said:

  "Now, I wonder why you asked that. If you were a friend of the peoplethere, or had business with them, you would have gone straight to thehouse; instead of which, you come away from them, and ask the firstperson you meet if he knows it. You will excuse me if I say that I scenta mystery, Mr. Green. By the way, let me introduce myself--it's evidentthat you have little of the detective in you, or you would have asked melong ago. My name is Reginald Rex, a name with which you are probablyunacquainted, but which, I trust, will some day be known to the wholeworld." He expressed the hope with bland simplicity.

  "I am sure I hope it will," said Derrick. "I am sorry to disappoint you,but there is no mystery in the case. I have come here to see a younglady----"

  "Miss Celia Grant," broke in Reggie, with an air of quiet triumph. "Howdid I guess it? My dear fellow, it's as easy as shelling peas! There isonly one young lady at Thexford Hall, and she is the one I havementioned. And you want to see her without coming in contact with theother persons who reside at the Hall. I need not ask if I am right,because your extremely candid countenance confirms my assertion."

  "Upon my word, you're a most amusing young man," said Derrick, bitinghis lip to prevent himself from colouring. "But I am bound to admit thatyou are quite right."

  "Thanks to your candour. I will now place myself at your service," saidReggie. "The young lady of whom we speak is a friend of mine--Mr. Green,when I rise in the morning, and return to my virtuous couch at night, Inever fail to thank a beneficent Providence that I _can_ claim her as myfriend. Now, what you wish me to do, though you would rather die thanask me, is to arrange a meeting between you and Miss Grant. I will doso, without a moment's hesitation, because of Lavater."

  "Because of _what_?" demanded Derrick, staring at him.

  "Lavater, Mr. Green, is the author of the best-known work onphysiognomy, and physiognomy teaches us whom to trust and to distrust.Informed by my knowledge of the science, I know that you are a man to betrusted, and with this knowledge, I am prepared to befriend you. Whattime this evening would you like to meet Miss Grant?"

  Derrick regarded the strange youth with a mixture of amusement andsurprise, not untinctured by jealousy.

  "You speak, Mr. Rex, as if you held the copyright of Miss Grant," hesaid.

  "Don't be offended; I'll explain," said Reggie, leaning back and foldinghis arms, and returning Derrick's gaze with one of extreme candour. "Yousee, Miss Grant once did me a service----"

  "I don't find it difficult to believe that," said Derrick, under hisbreath.

  "No," said Reggie. "There are a certain number of angels in woman guisewho pace this wicked and weary old world of ours, and you and I happento have had the extraordinary luck to meet one. Of course, I see how itis with you; and I might say that I am in the same boat
. It's easyenough to fall in love with a star in the blue heavens, the Koh-i-noordiamond, or the second folio of Shakespeare. But I happen to be one ofthose few men who realise that the treasures I have spoken of are notfor them. In the words of the poet, 'I worship Miss Grant from afar.' Ikneel at her feet, metaphorically, in the adoration that has no hope ofresponse or reward. If I am any judge of character--which I beg you tobelieve I am--you, my friend, are not placed in the same category;judging by the salient characteristics of your countenance, I should saythat you hope most considerably."

  "You certainly are a most extraordinary young man," said Derrick; "andyour candour is somewhat overwhelming. But you have hit the nail on thehead; and I may as well confess that I am particularly anxious to meetMiss Grant as soon as possible, and that I accept your proffered aid. Asyou have divined, I do not want to go to the Hall, for reasons----"

  "Which you are perfectly at liberty to keep to yourself," said Reggie,blandly. "If, at any time, I should want to learn them, I give you myword I shall have little difficulty in discovering them. Just at thepresent moment, I am impelled by the sole desire to do Miss Grant aservice--and you too; for, if you will permit me to say so, I have takena physiognomical fancy to you. Will you shake hands?"

  With a feeling akin to bewilderment, but without any resentment againsthis strange companion's eccentricity, Derrick went through the ceremony;and Reggie, rising, said:

  "I am now going to the Hall; if you will be in the little wood in thehollow behind the Hall at seven o'clock this evening--but I need notcontinue."

  He rose, settled his cap, and took two or three steps; but stoppedsuddenly and, coming back to the table, leant his hands on it andregarded Derrick thoughtfully.

  "One conjecture, if you will allow me. May we say that the person atThexford Hall you most particularly wish to avoid is--Lord Heyton?"

  Derrick, speechless for a moment, stared at him; then he nodded.

  "Quite so," said Reggie, with an air of satisfaction. "Oh, I don't wantto know the reason; I just wanted my surmise confirmed. And, by George!I commend your judgment; for, if there was ever an individual in thisworld an honest man might wish to avoid, it is the gentleman I havementioned."

  With this, he walked off; and Derrick sat for some time in a state ofamazement at the quaintness--and, be it added, the acuteness--of his newacquaintance. Presently the landlord served him with a nice little meal,which it is to be feared Derrick did not appreciate; for he scarcelyknew what he was eating.

  The time lagged intolerably; and long before seven o'clock, he had foundthe little wood, and was pacing up and down it, his heart beatingfuriously, as he listened for footsteps; they came presently, and hedrew behind a tree, that, for a moment or two, unseen himself, his eyesmight rest on the girl he had seen but once, but whose form wasenshrined in his heart.

  And presently she came; a slim, graceful figure in a plain white dress.The evening was warm, and she had taken off her hat, and was swinging itidly in her hand. When he saw her face distinctly, he noticed that itwas calm and serene; there was no expression of expectation in it; shelooked as if she were just strolling without any object. Pale beneathhis tan, Derrick stepped forward and raised his hat. Celia stopped deadshort, and looked at him for a moment with the ordinary expression ofsurprise at the sudden appearance of a stranger; then she recognised himand, all in a flash, her face changed. First, it was flooded withcolour; then it grew pale and her wide-open eyes held a look ofastonishment and some other emotion which went straight to Derrick'sheart and struck him dumb, so that he stood before her in silence. Shewas the first to speak.

  "You!" she murmured, with a little catch in her voice, her hand going toher heart unconsciously.

  "Yes," said Derrick, unsteadily. "Didn't he tell you?"

  She shook her head.

  "You mean Reggie Rex? No--he asked me to come here, and I thought it wasto meet him. I--I am rather startled."

  She sank on to the bank, looking straight before her, and, stillbare-headed, Derrick stood beside her, speechless. If he had ever hadany doubt of the completeness, the intensity of his love for her, thatdoubt would have been dispelled at that moment. The desire to take herin his arms, to crush her to him, was almost overwhelming; but heremembered that, though he had been loving her all these months, hadbeen thinking of her so constantly that it seemed as if they had been inactual communication, she did not know this. He must go gently with thisbeautiful creature; he must not frighten her by word or look.

  "I'm sorry he didn't tell you; I'm sorry you were so startled," he said,very softly, very gently. "I thought he would have done so."

  "I am ashamed," she said, blushing, and forcing a smile to her lips,which were not yet quite steady. "It is very foolish of me; for--for whyshould I be startled, why should you not be here, anywhere?"

  She made as if to rise; but he put out his hand, as if to stay her, andshe sank down again.

  "Well, there are reasons why I should not come back, as you know," hebegan; but she looked up quickly and broke in.

  "Oh, no, there are not! Don't you know, have they not told you? You haveno cause now for--for concealment."

  "I've heard nothing," he said. "I have only just returned from abroad.Will you tell me what you mean?"

  With a barely-suppressed eagerness, and an unconcealed gladness, shetold him of the appearance of the old gentleman a few minutes afterDerrick's flight, and gave him the lawyer's message.

  Derrick nodded once or twice. "If I'd only known that!" he said in a lowvoice, "I should have come back at once; come back to tell you what Iwant to tell you now, to thank you. Oh, but that's absurd! Of course, Ican't thank you. You know what you did for me, and you must know that Ican't express my gratitude."

  "Don't say any more," said Celia almost inaudibly. "I am glad that it isall right now: that you have no cause to fear--and that you've come backto England."

  "Are you?" he said, with difficulty controlling his voice. "So am I; butI'm still more glad that I have been able to meet you so soon. You arelooking--well." Poor fellow! He wanted to say, "more beautiful thanever; and I love you." "You are happy, I hope?"

  "Quite," Celia replied, raising a face that was radiant. And at thatmoment she was happy indeed, suffused with a strange, sweet happinesswhich she did not understand. "I have got a splendid berth. But, ofcourse, you know, or you wouldn't be here. Reggie told you."

  "Yes," he said, glad to fall on Reggie as a subject for conversation."He's a strange young man, but he appears to be a good friend of yours."

  "Oh, yes, he is. Yes; isn't he singular? I met him at the Museum. Oh,long, long ago--And yet it isn't so long, though it seems so," sheadded, musingly, and more to herself than to him. "Yes; isn't hequaint?"

  "But he's got a good heart," said Derrick, with a smile. Then he felt hecould bring the conversation back to themselves. "I am so glad you arehappy. I got your address--I can see you are wondering how I gotit--from another friend of yours, Mr. Clendon, a remarkably nice oldgentleman who was extremely kind to me. Of course, I went to Brown'sBuildings the day I arrived."

  She blushed and her eyes were downcast for a moment. Why "of course"?She pondered this, with a thrill of the heart.

  "Tell me about yourself, what you've been doing," she said. "You won'tthink me curious? But, of course, I am interested----"

  "Naturally, seeing that you saved me, set my feet on a new path," hesaid; and as he spoke, he seated himself on the bank beside her; but alittle lower, so that he could look up into her face. "I've had rather acurious time, since we parted."

  Then he told her, as briefly as he could, the story of his adventures.And she listened--well, as Desdemona of old listened to Othello; that isto say, her star-like eyes were fixed on his face, as if they werechained there, and she listened, sometimes her breath growing fast,sometimes with an exclamation of amazement, of fear. Her interest, herabsorption were so intense that perhaps she was not conscious thatimperceptibly he had drawn closer to her, so that his arm was to
uchingher dress and his face was very near hers. Woman is never so charming tous men as when she is listening to the story of our lives; and, oh, whata sympathetic listener was this beautiful, dainty girl, with herwide-open eyes, her red, parted lips, her little sighs and murmuredexclamations!

  "Oh, it is wonderful!" she breathed at last. "It it like a story in abook! I can see it all--you tell it so well; and yet I feel you are nottelling half. And this Donna Elvira--what a good, kind woman she mustbe!"

  "She is," assented Derrick. "I wish she were also a happy one; but I'mafraid she isn't. There is a kind of mystery about her--but I'm afraidyou won't understand from my poor attempt to describe her."

  "Oh, yes, yes I do!" said Celia. "You make it all so plain. I shouldlike to meet her, to know her."

  "I'll tell her so--when I go back," said Derrick.

  What had happened? A moment before, the little wood had been all aglowwith the rays of the setting sun, her heart had been palpitating with asweet, delicious happiness; and now, all quite suddenly, the air hadbecome cold, a chill had struck to her heart. Celia's face paled, shelooked up at him and then away from him. With the toe of her daintyshoe, she traced a pattern in the moss at her feet; and still withdowncast eyes, she said:

  "You--you are going back? Of course."

  "Yes; I must go back," he said, in a dry voice. "As I told you, I haveonly come over to do this business. I must go back soon."

  "How--how soon?" she asked, scarcely knowing that she spoke.

  "Oh, in a week or two, at longest," he replied, his eyes downcast, hisvoice barely above a murmur.

  There was silence for a moment; then she forced a smile and, withdifficulty raising her eyes to his, said:

  "Of course, you must. Well, I am--am glad to have seen you, to haveheard that you are prospering. I--I must be going back."

  Again she made a movement, as if to rise; but he took her hand andgripped it tightly, almost fiercely.

  "Not yet," he said, his voice choked and thick. "You can't go till Itell you----Oh, don't you know? You must know; something of the truthmust have travelled from my heart to yours all these months. Don't youknow that I love you?" he said breathlessly.

  She sat quite still, her hand in his, her eyes fixed on the tree beforeher; her heart was beating so fast that its pulsations seemed to stifleher. But through her whole frame, through every nerve of her body, ran ahot flood of ecstatic happiness. His words were still ringing in herheart; mutely her lips were re-forming them: "I love you! I love you!"So great, so ineffable was the joy, that her eyes closed with the desireto shut out everything in the world but the one fact his dear lips hadvoiced.

  "You know I love you," he said in a whisper. "From the first moment--no,let me be truthful, not from the first moment: you remember how angry Iwas with you; how I resented your dear presence, your interference?--butsoon, very soon afterwards, you stole into my heart. And you have beenthere ever since. Oh, Celia!--think of it! I knew your name only a fewhours ago--you are all the world to me, my saviour, my guardian angel. Ican't live without you. I want you, dearest; I want you every hour,every moment. Oh, I know I'm a poor lot, of no account, a man with astain still on his name, but I've got to tell you that I love you. I'vethought of this hour of our meeting a hundred, a thousand times, in allsorts of places, in all sorts of circumstances. And now it has come!Celia, I love you, dear, I love you! Speak to me, dear! Oh, I know I'mnot worthy of a single thought, a single breath of yours; but let mylove plead for me, and--speak to me, Celia!"

  She sat enthralled by that magic which has been omnipotent since thisweary world of ours began, and will be till it ends. It was easy enoughfor him to say "speak," but ah, how difficult it was for her to obey,when her heart was too full for words! Instead of speech, she turned herface to him; and laid her hand on his, which held hers nearest to him.There was a thrill of a passionate love in that gentle touch; andDerrick's heart flamed up. He caught her in his arms, and their lipsjoined in that first ecstatic interchange of soul and heart. Presently,she lay on his breast, her face still upturned to his kisses, her eyesmeeting his with the fullness, the fearlessness of a girl's first andperfect love.

  Silence reigned in the little wood; a squirrel, which had been watchingthem from a distance, leapt noiselessly from a branch and stood andsurveyed them with piquant interest; the good god Pan hovered about themand murmured his blessings on their mortal love. So long lasted thesilence--the ecstatic silence which, indeed, is golden--that time lostits significance and they were caught up into the heaven of eternity.

  At last, with a sigh, Celia came back to earth: that earth which hislove had turned to a veritable Paradise.

  "I must go," she whispered.

  "Must you, dearest--Celia?" he asked, with all a lover's reluctance.

  "Yes," she said, the word broken with a sigh. "I am sorry; but I mustgo. I don't know how late it is."

  He took the watch from her belt--the very act was a caress--and lookedat it.

  "We have been here an hour. It seems only a minute. And we must part!That's hard."

  "Yes, it's hard," she whispered, with a long breath. "But we shall meetagain. Oh, I couldn't bear to think that we shall not meet again soon.You will come--will you come to the Hall?"

  He knit his brows.

  "I can't, dearest; I can't. Don't ask me why. God knows I want to tellyou everything; but--but presently. You can trust me, Celia?"

  "I'd trust you with my life, with all that there is of me," she said,with a simplicity that made him catch her to him.

  "You must trust me, for the present," he said. "Let me think thingsover. I can't think now--I can scarcely realise that you are in my arms,that you are mine. Mine! Mine, after all this time of waiting andlonging. Tell me once more, just once more, that you love me, Celia."

  "I love you!" she breathed, her star-like eyes meeting hisunflinchingly. "Oh, how strange it is! I don't even know your name."

  He winced imperceptibly, and his lips drew straight. They had almostformed the words "Derrick Dene," but he held them back.

  "Sydney," he said. "Sydney Green."

  "Sydney," she murmured; and though Derrick hated the name on her lips,yet it sounded the sweetest music.

  "You'll meet me to-morrow here, in the morning, Celia? I could not waitall day. Be here at ten o'clock."

  "I will."

  "By that time, I shall have thought things over; I shall be able to tellyou----Oh, dearest, must you go? You seem to take my life with you."

  "And I leave mine with you," she said, gravely.

  "Celia! You've got my life and my heart in this little hand of yours."He kissed it.

  "And do you think I shall not hold them? But I must go. Yes; kiss meonce more--only once, or I shall never be able to leave you. I will behere at ten o'clock. It will seem an age----"

  He gripped her to him, and kissed her; and he stood, with hand pressedhard against the tree, watching the slight, graceful form till itdisappeared from his view.

  It may be noted, by the student of human nature, that neither of themhad spoken of the woman for whom Derrick had been ready to sacrifice hisgood name, his life itself. Perfect love means perfect faith, and theywere so sure of each other's love and faith, that it may be said neitherof them gave the other woman a thought; and if they had done so, Celiawould not have been jealous of the past, and Derrick would have regardedthe boyish passion of which he had been so completely cured, assomething nebulous and unimportant. At that moment, he was capable ofthinking only of Celia; the past was like a dream, his heart was in thepresent and future; and his happiness was alloyed by one regretonly--that he had concealed from Celia his real name and his connectionwith the Heytons. But, as he walked on air towards the village, he toldhimself that such concealment would not long be necessary, that he wouldtell her the next time they met.