True to a Type Volume Ii Part 1

True to a Type.

Vol. II.

by Robert Cleland.

CHAPTER XX.

PAUL AND VIRGINIA.

The storm exhausted itself at length. The thunder pa.s.sed on westward, the rain abated and ceased, the clouds parted and rolled away, leaving the sky clear but paler for its agony of tears. It was now evening, and the air felt fresh even to chilliness, for the temperature had fallen a matter of fifteen degrees--from 90 to 70 or 75. The party stood round the fire with something not greatly removed from a s.h.i.+ver, and warmed their hands. It was not actually cold, but the transition had been sudden and violent, which came to the same thing.

"And now to get back?" said Wilkie, looking at his watch. "The gong at the beach is just going to sound for supper. I confess I feel peckish.

Should we not be thinking of a move, Blount?"

Blount coughed. "There are rather many of us for my small boat, in the present state of the weather. There is probably more wind, and certainly more swell, than you would suppose from looking at the landlocked channel down there. I fear we must postpone thoughts of supper for the present."

"If we delay, no one can say when we may get in. I don't see why we should not make the attempt at once. We shall at least have daylight to lessen our difficulties if we attempt it now. What do you say?"

"I fear it is impossible. What do _you_ say, Jake?"

Jake caught a look from his "boss," and understood. "No, sir-ree! you won't reach Lippenstock to-night in that aar boat with a crew of six.

It 'ud be more'n a man's life is worth, with the sea as is on in the bay now."

"Suppose we go four, then. I could take charge of the young ladies."

"We won't break up the party, neither Margaret nor I," said Rose. "You might try the voyage with Jake, however, by yourself. You could tell them at the beach to expect us for breakfast."

Wilkie looked doubtfully to Jake; but Jake's eyes were averted. He had pulled out his plug of tobacco, and was intent upon judiciously whittling off the exact quant.i.ty for a chew. He had no idea of making the voyage twice for the accommodation of one man, that man not being the "boss," and one, besides, who did not seem over-likely to remember to tip. Jake's look afforded little encouragement to make a proposal, and that reminded Wilkie in time that the figure he himself would make would not be heroic if he arrived alone at the beach and said that the others were coming. He elevated his eyebrows into the British equivalent of a Frenchman's plaintive shrug, and sighed, and resigned himself to his fate. If he had even had some one to "spoon" with, it would not have been so bad; but after his experience in that hut during the hours of the thunderstorm, he realised that he was in the position of one who at the last moment goes to a place of amus.e.m.e.nt, and finds every desirable place ticketed "engaged."

"Worse than Robinson Crusoe," he grumbled to himself, "for I've no man Friday."

"Then you would make the rest of us stand for the savages," laughed Blount; "which is scarcely flattering. But keep up your heart, old man; it might be worse. It is warm in here, at any rate--thanks to our absent hosts the fishermen. We must not forget to leave something behind in payment for the use of their wood-heap."

"Why didn't they leave provisions when they were about it? Even a s.h.i.+p-biscuit would be agreeable now."

"And sugar and tea," laughed Margaret. "They might have left some tea--and cups and saucers."

Wilkie objected to being chaffed. He looked severe. "I feel almost faint, I can tell you, Miss Naylor. Brain-workers, I suppose, are more susceptible to physical privation than the generality," and his eye rested on the other two gentlemen, as though they were instances in point. "The brain is a delicate organ, and easily thrown out of gear.

It needs frequent nourishment at short intervals, to keep it in good working order."

"You will have to give your brain a rest to-night, then, Mr Wilkie, and husband your fibre, as there is nothing here to renew it with--no larder, even, except the sea down there. I am glad that, being a woman, I have no brain to speak of. The exhaustion of its fibre won't be noticed."

"You've hit it, Margaret!" cried Blount--"without even caring--as you so often do. Smart girl, and don't know it. The sea is our larder, full of fish, and Jake has lines in the boat's locker. Let's go fis.h.i.+ng."

"The boat will be wet after the rain," said Rose, "and I have had one wetting already. I shall not go fis.h.i.+ng, thanks; but I do not mind looking among the rocks for limpets and mussels, and things. They tell me they are good to eat, when people are very hungry."

"Not a bad thing to do. Whoever likes, can fish from the boat; I shall _sh.e.l.l_-fish on sh.o.r.e," chimed in Margaret.

"To sh.e.l.l-fish is not wisely selfish," retorted Wilkie, with the air of a wag. "How much more comfortable to sit in the boat hauling up your fish, than go pottering and stumbling over slippery rocks with a lapful of rubbish you won't be able to cook after you have got it!

while we could broil some fish nicely on the hot coals. Believe me, it's better to be wisely selfish than to bother about worthless sh.e.l.l-fish."

"I don't think I am selfish; but you may end in becoming a punster if you are not warned in time; and to show you are not selfish, you had better go out with Jake, and we will all a.s.sist you to cook and eat whatever you may be lucky enough to catch."

Wilkie looked to the other two men, but both were reaching down hats for the girls from lofty pegs where they had been hung. No one heeded him, and he deemed it best to follow Jake, who had already gone down to the boat and was preparing to launch it. If he was condemned to be a supernumerary, it was better to be a useful and independent one afloat, than merely in the way on sh.o.r.e; and he had his reward in a calm and tranquil evening on the water, his self-love unfretted by the view of less learned men preferred to himself, his hand bobbing peacefully with his line, and his head in a cloud of soothing tobacco.

Occasionally he would get a bite, and hauled in his fish with the consoling thought that there were some creatures whom he could catch, and that the girls would not object to partake of his fish, however they might disregard himself.

The four remaining in the hut stood by the door and watched the launching of the boat; then they likewise descended to the beach and began to look among the rocks for sh.e.l.l-fish. But either there were few to find, or the seekers were inattentive in their search, for they did not find many, and soon wearying, abandoned even the pretence of being useful.

They wandered idly along in the purple light, now waning swiftly into bluish grey and shadowy indistinctness. Of the wild and lonely scene of half an hour ago, nothing was left but the dusky darkness of the land lifting its solid outline against the tinted sky, where wan transparent gleams of the departing day contended with the darkling blue of night, and the dim sea escaping from the shadows of the islands spread away to the horizon, to bound the low-down glimmer in the southern sky.

The talk had split itself into two separate strands, and the talkers had drifted apart, each couple following the thread of its own discourse, and oblivious to its divergence from the other. Joseph and Rose were alone again. She was walking by his side, looking with level gaze straight out before, to the distant line where sea and sky, straining to meet each other, were yet parted where they touched, as two who could not be united. She was thinking--or more, perhaps, she was waiting--with head inclining forward and to her companion, while his eyes sought the ground. His footsteps sounded irregular as he walked, as though he were not at ease, but laboured with something to be said, for which the word was difficult to find. He looked up more than once as if about to speak, and then his eyes fell again without his having spoken. She did not observe. Her eyes were on the horizon and the light was dim.

At length he clenched his hands, stopped short, and spoke abruptly.

His voice was low, but there was an intensity in the utterance, which made her start although she had been expecting him to speak.

"Rose! will you be my wife?... Why should I try to lead up easily to what I meant to say? I am too much in earnest to be able to coin phrases."

She turned and looked at him. She did not look up shyly, but yet she was not bold. Doubt, if there had been light enough to see, or if his mind had been calm enough to observe, was the prevailing sentiment which her face betrayed. She looked, and her lips grew tense, and then she drew a heavy, deep, slow breath; and, like a sleep-walker obeying an impulse apart from common consciousness or volition, she held out her hand.

He caught it in both of his, and raised it to his lips, and clasped it as if he never would let it go; and the boiling blood went tingling through his veins in a transport of tumultuous joy, which shook his frame and made it vain for him to try to raise his voice.

She thought she heard him whisper, "Rose! My own!" and straight the tears began to gather in her eyes, and her breathing broke into a sob.

She thought, she was about to give way, and covered her face with the other hand. And yet there was a stillness in her heart, as though it were some one else--a looker-on--a curious and yet an approving onlooker, but one who felt no joy at her being sought, no hope and no elation, though it bade her accept. And then a despairing pang shot through her. Was it impossible for her to love? But she would! She was resolved to love--to love this man. She had read in him that he loved her well. He was good and true; she more than liked or even respected him. She was resolved to love as fondly and as faithfully as ever woman had, if only to show----but she would not think of that--never again. The past was buried. Let it lie.

Joseph, in his own tumultuous exaltation, felt the trembling of her hand. He heard her sob. He saw her cover her face as if to hide her tears, and caught her in his arms, folding her in, and pressing her to his heart in a tender transport. To dry those tears was now his rightful privilege; and very tenderly and softly did he whisper in her ear, bidding her calm herself and have no fear, for he loved and wors.h.i.+pped her, and would devote his life to shelter her from care or harm.

And now the stars came out upon the night, looking down with friendly understanding eyes, like beings of a higher sphere, approving the troth-plight and bidding them be happy. They sat them down upon a broad flat rock; her hand was nestling in his palm, and her form drawn up against him within his encircling arm; and the silent peace of night, tranquil and still beneath the keeping of the kindly stars, wore in upon their agitated spirits, helping the fever in their blood to cool.

To realise that there is some one in accord, and all our own, who shares desire and hope, our present and our future, to whom the inmost thought might be revealed, if that were possible, without the conventional disguises in which we hide while we converse with one another, is a sensation of the rarest joy, but seldom known, and never known for long. To Joseph, who had lived alone in heart, it was very new and inexpressibly delightful. There were no words to image forth a t.i.the of what he felt. Speech failed. He held her hand, and breathed the pure delicious night in gasps of satisfaction: and it was all so still and simple; only the outlined rocks against the sky, and glimmering faint reflections of the stars on the dim water; no troubling details or petty objects, no motion but the ceaseless current of the universe, the noiseless unseen marching of the host of heaven from east to west. He and his love were the only two in all the mighty vault. For them the night was still, the air so sweet, the stars so kind and friendly. They and the universe were in company and at one in some mysterious way, and the peace of the universe flowed in upon his soul.

Rose sat in wonder at the intensity of the silence. How this man must love her! It was sweet to be so loved, but it was solemn. She felt small within his clasping arms. Her hand was laid in his, and nestled in the tender warmth of its grasp, so strong and so protecting. He had taken her for his very own, and she felt humble in the unworthiness of the self he set such store on. She felt ashamed at the inward stillness which could respond so coldly; but the feeling roused and warmed her somewhat, and she was glad of it. She had striven to win him. Honestly she had striven, if in a divided spirit, which made her blush now to think of the depth and tenderness of the love which she had won. But at least he should never have ground to suspect half-heartedness. She would compel herself to love him more; and if the reality fell short of what she felt she owed, at least the expression should not fall short in fulness. She crept closer, and strove to thaw away the numbing chill which hung about her heart, and was so stubborn to dispel. He responded with a tightening clasp against the strong warm throbbing of his breast, till she vibrated with the pulses of his perfect love. She looked out across the sea, and vowed to be more than he had hoped or dreamed, and felt still and strengthened by the peace spread out around her. And so they sat, together, and yet so far apart in feeling; and time went by without their taking heed.

At length--they knew not when or how the idea came into their minds, but probably it was because a star, appearing to have parted from the rest, came down, and seemed to be pursuing an independent course, and to outstrip its fellows, being only, when they looked a little later, the lantern hung out upon a pa.s.sing s.h.i.+p--they started from their reverie and stood up.

"The dew is falling; you will be chilled." It was Joseph who spoke.

"Let me b.u.t.ton my coat round your shoulders. It is not thick or warm, but at least it adds another fold of covering."

"Thanks, but I am warm.... No; I do not want it. But you are kind to mean giving it. Only you should not think that I would strip you of your coat. Is it not time that we were turning back?"

"Yes; we have strayed a long way from the hut. The ground is rough, and it is so dark one cannot see where one steps. You will stumble.

Give me your hand, and let me lead."

The unevenness of the ground, and the consequent stumbling among rocks and boulders in the uncertain dimness, soon brought them back to the level of everyday life; and when at length, after an hour of floundering and groping, they came in sight of the fire-glow streaming from the fishermen's shelter, they were completely themselves again--gayer even than their wont, in the reaction from the deeper feelings in which they had been lately steeped.

They were the last of the party to come in. The others were already round the fire, a.s.sisting with their advice the experienced Jake, who was on his knees broiling fish upon the coals. They made a tolerable supper, without bread or salt, Jake a.s.suring Wilkie that, coming from the sea, fish needed none, and that they would lie the lighter on his "stommick" for lack of fixings. And then the girls were left alone, and the men withdrew to the boat, under whose shelter they contrived to sleep till morning, when they sailed from the desert island, each with some memory or experience to mark it in his recollection for life.