The Bars of Iron Part 53

"Well, then,"--abruptly he raised himself and faced round, his dark eyes raised to hers,--"I told him, Avery, that if I couldn't marry the woman I loved, I would never marry at all."

There was no sullenness about him now, only steadfast purpose. He looked her full in the face as he said it, and she quivered a little before the mastery of his look.

He laid a hand upon her knee as she sat above him in sore perplexity.

"Would you have me do anything else?" he said.

She answered him with a conscious effort. "I want you to love--and marry--the right woman."

He uttered a queer, unsteady laugh and leaned his head against her. "Oh, my dear," he said, "there is no other woman but you in all the world."

Something fiery that was almost like a dart of pain went through Avery at his words. She moved instinctively, but it was not in shrinking. After a moment she laid her hand upon his.

"Piers," she said, "I can't bear hurting you."

"You wouldn't hurt a fly," said Piers.

She smiled faintly. "Not if I could help it. But that doesn't prove that I am fond of flies. And now, Piers, I am going to ask a very big thing of you. I wonder if you will do it."

"I wonder," said Piers.

He had not moved at her touch, yet she felt his fingers close tensely as they lay upon her knee, and she guessed that he was still striving to control the inner tumult that had so nearly overwhelmed him a few minutes before.

"I know it is a big thing," she said. "Yet--for my sake if you like--I want you to do it."

"I will do anything for your sake," he made pa.s.sionate answer.

"Thank you," she said gently. "Then, Piers, I want you--please--to go back to Sir Beverley at once, and make it up."

He withdrew his hand sharply from hers, and sat up, turning his back upon her. "No!" he said harshly. "No!"

"Please, Piers!" she said very earnestly.

He locked his arms round his knees and sat in silence, staring moodily out to sea.

"Please, Piers!" she said again, and lightly touched his shoulder with her fingers.

He hunched the shoulder away from her with a gesture of boyish impatience, and then abruptly, as if realizing what he had done, he turned back to her, caught the hand, and pressed it to his lips.

"I'm a brute, dear. Forgive me! Of course--if you wish it--I'll go back.

But as to making it up, well--" he gulped once or twice--"it doesn't rest only with me, you know."

"Oh, Piers," she said, "you are all he has. He couldn't be hard to you!"

Piers smiled a wry smile, and said nothing.

"Besides," she went on gently, "there is really nothing for you to quarrel about,--that is, if I am the cause of the trouble. It is perfectly natural that your grandfather should wish you to make a suitable marriage, perfectly natural that he should not want you to run after the wrong woman. You can tell him, Piers, that I absolutely see his point of view, but that so far as I am concerned, he need not be anxious. It is not my intention to marry again."

"All right," said Piers.

He gave her hand a little shake and released it. For a second--only a second--she caught a sparkle in his eyes that seemed to her almost like a gleam of mockery. And then with characteristic suddenness he sprang to his feet.

"Well, I'd better be going," he said in a voice that was perfectly normal and free from agitation. "I can't stop to see the kiddie this time. I'm glad she's going on all right. I wonder when you'll be back again."

"Not at present, I think," said Avery, trying not to be disconcerted by his abruptness.

He looked down at her whimsically. "You're a good sort, Avery," he said.

"I won't be so violent next time."

"There mustn't be a next time," she said quickly. "Please Piers, that must be quite understood!"

"All right," he said again. "I understand."

And with that very suddenly he left her, so suddenly that she sat motionless on her rock and stared after him, not believing that he was really taking his leave.

He did not turn his head, however, and very soon he pa.s.sed round the jutting headland, and was gone from her sight. Only when that happened did she draw a long, long breath and realize how much of her strength had been spent to gain what after all appeared to be but a very barren victory.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

THE RETURN

"_Ah! C'est Monsieur Pierre enfin!_" Eagerly Victor greeted the appearance of his young master. He looked as if he would have liked to embrace him.

Piers' att.i.tude, however, did not encourage any display of tenderness.

He flung himself gloomily down into a chair and regarded the man with sombre eyes.

"Where's Sir Beverley?" he said.

Victor spread forth expressive hands. _"Mais_, Sir Beverley, he sit up all the night attending you, _mon pet.i.t monsieur. Et moi_, I sit up also.

_Mais Monsieur Pierre! Monsieur Pierre!"_

He began to shake his head at Piers in fond reproof, but Piers paid no attention.

"Sat up all night, what?" he said. "Then where is he now? In bed?"

There was a deep line between his black brows; all the gaiety and sparkle had gone from his eyes. He looked tired out.

It was close upon the luncheon-hour, and he had tramped up from the station. There were refreshments in front of him, but he bluntly refused to touch them.

"Why can't you speak, man?" he said irritably. "Tell me where he is!"

"He has gone for his ride as usual," Victor said, speaking through pursed lips. "But he is very, very feeble to-day, _Monsieur Pierre_. We beg him not to go. But what would you? He is the master. We could not stop him.

But he sit in his saddle--like this."

Victor's gesture descriptive of the bent, stricken figure that had ridden forth that morning was painfully true to life.

Piers sprang to his feet. "And he isn't back yet? Where on earth can he be? Which way did he go?"