The Mystery of the Sea

  CHAPTER VIII

  A RUN ON THE BEACH

  The girl's kiss was so spontaneous and so natural that it could notconvey any false impression to me. It was a manifest expression ofgratitude, and that only. Nevertheless it set my heart beating and myveins tingling with delight. From that instant I did not feel quite astranger to the giver; nor could I ever feel as quite a stranger again.Something of the same idea may have passed through the girl's mind, forshe blushed and looked around her shyly; but, with a proud lifting ofher head and a slight stamp of her foot on the rock, she put the matterbehind her, for the present. The old lady, in the midst of her concernfor her companion and herself, was able to throw a glance of disapprovalon me, as though I had done something wrong; from which I gathered thatthe younger lady was not only very dear to her, but held in some sort ofunusual respect as well. It was peculiar that she should in the midst ofher present condition be able to give a thought to so trivial a thing.For though death did not now stare her in the face, she was cold andwet; the rock she stood on was hard and slippery, and the foam of thebreaking waves was even now curling around her feet.

  She looked about her apprehensively; she did not know whether or no wewere on another isolated rock. I reassured her on this subject, and wescrambled as quickly as we could over the rocks on our way shoreward.The elder lady took up most of my time. Here and there in a difficultplace, for the wind by now blew so strongly that one found it hard tobalance oneself as is necessary when walking on rocks, I offered theyounger my hand. At first she firmly declined; but then, manifestlythinking it churlish, she relented and let me help her. That kiss wasevidently rankling in her mind.

  Both the women breathed more freely when we had reached the shore andstood secure from the sea. And indeed by this time the view, as welooked back, was enough to frighten one. Great waves topped with whitewere rolling in from as far as we could see; dashing over the rocks,sending up here and there white towers of spray, or rolling in on theflat shore in front of us with an ominous roar. Woe betide any one whomight be isolated now on any rock beyond; he would be swept off, andbeaten on the rocks. The old lady groaned as she saw it, and then saidaudibly a prayer of thankfulness. Even the girl grew white for a moment;then, to my secret joy, unconsciously she drew closer to me. I tookcontrol of the party.

  "Come," I said, "you mustn't stand here in your wet clothes. Hurry tothe hotel and get dried. You will get your death of cold. We must allrun! Or hasten, at all events!" I added, as I took in the dimensions ofthe elder lady.

  "We have left our trap at the hotel" said the younger lady as we beganto walk quickly in the direction of Port Erroll.

  As we were moving off it suddenly struck me that Gormala might have seenthe episode of the rescue. The very thought of such a thing filled mewith such dismay that I groaned aloud. Not for all the world would Ihave had her have a hand in this; it was too sacred--too delightful--toomuch apart from ordinary things! Whilst I was lost in a reverie ofinexpressible sweetness for perhaps two or three seconds altogether, Iwas recalled to myself by the voice of the girl who came close to me:

  "Are you hurt? Please tell me if you are. I am a First Aid."

  "Hurt?" I asked, surprised "not at all. What on earth makes you thinkso?"

  "I heard you groan!"

  "Oh that----" I began with a smile. Then I stopped, for again thehaunting fear of Gormala's interference closed over my heart like a wetmist. With the fear, however, came a resolution; I would not have anydoubt to torment me. In my glance about the shore, as we came off therocks on to the beach, I had not seen a sign of anyone. At this part ofthe shore the sandhills have faded away into a narrow flat covered withbent-grass, beyond which the land slopes up directly to the higherplain. There was not room or place for any one to hide; even one lyingamongst the long bents could be seen at a glance from above. Without aword I turned to the left and ran as quickly as I could across the beachand up the steep bank of the sandy plateau. With a certain degree ofapprehension, and my heart beating like a trip-hammer--I had certainlytaken this matter with much concern--I looked around. Then I breathedfreely; there was not a sign of anyone as far as I could see. The wind,now coming fiercely in from the sea, swept the tall bent-grass till itlay over, showing the paler green of its under side; the blue-green,metallic shimmer which marks it, and which painters find it so hard toreproduce, had all vanished under the stress.

  I ran back to join the ladies. The elder one had continued walkingstolidly along the shore, leaving a track of wet on the half dry sandas she went; but the younger one had lingered and came towards me as Iapproached.

  "I hope there was nothing wrong?" she asked in a most natural way.

  "No," I said it without thinking, for there was something about thegirl which made me feel as if we were old friends, and I spoke to herunconsciously in this strain. "It's all right. She's not there!"

  "Who?" she asked with unconsciousness of any _arriere pensee_, anunconsciousness similar to my own.

  "Gormala!" I answered.

  "And who is Gormala?" For quite a minute or two I walked on withoutspeaking, for I wanted to think before I answered. I felt that it wouldbe hard to explain the odd way in which the Seer-woman seemed to havebecome tangled up in my life; and yet I wanted to tell this girl. Ifeared that she might laugh at me; that she might think me ridiculous;that she might despise me; or even that she might think me a lunatic!Then again Gormala might come and tell things to her. There was noaccounting for what the woman might do. She might come upon us at anymoment; she might be here even now! The effect of her following orwatching me had begun to tell on my mind; her existence haunted me. Ilooked around anxiously, and breathed freely. There was no sign of her.My eyes finally fetched up on the face of the girl.... Her beautiful,dark eyes were fixed on me with interest and wonder.

  "Well!" she said, after a pause, "I don't suppose I'm more inquisitivethan my neighbours, but I should just like to know, right here, what'swrong with you. You looked round that time just as if you were haunted!Why did you run away that time and search round as if some one had takena pot-shot at you and you wanted to locate him? Why did you groan beforeyou went, and come back humming? Who is Gormala, anyhow; and why wereyou glad that you didn't see her? Why didn't you answer me when I askedyou who she was? Why did you walk along with your head up and your eyesstaring, as though you were seeing visions? And why----"

  All at once she stopped, and a swift blush swept over her face and evenher neck. "Oh," she said in a low tone with a note of pathos in hervoice, "I beg your pardon! my unruly tongue ran away with me. I have noright to ask so many questions--and from a stranger too!" She stopped assuddenly as she had begun.

  "You might have spared me that!" I said "I know I have been rude indelaying to answer your question about Gormala; but the fact is thatthere are so many odd things in connection with her that I was reallyconsidering whether you would think me a fool or a lunatic if I toldthem to you. And you certainly would not understand why I didn't wantto see her, if I didn't. And perhaps not even if I did," I added as anafterthought. The girl's awkwardness slipped from her like a robe; theblush merged into a smile as she turned to me and said:

  "This is most interesting. O! do tell me--if you don't mind."

  "I shall be delighted" I said, and I only expressed my thought."Gormala" I began; but just then the stout lady in front of us, who wasnow a considerable way ahead, turned round and called to us. I couldonly hear "Miss Anita;" but the girl evidently understood, for shecalled out:

  "All right! We are coming at once!" and she hurried on. It gave me athrill of pleasure that she said "we" not "I;" it was sweet to have apart in such a comprehension. As we went she turned to me and said:

  "You must tell me all about it; I shan't be happy till I hear the wholestory, whatever it is. This is all too lovely and exciting. I hadn't anidea when we went out sleepily this morning that there would be so muchin the day to think of afterwards." I felt that I had taken my couragein both hands as I said:

/>   "You'll both dine with me at the hotel, won't you. You have missedlunch and must be hungry, so we can dine early. It will be such a truepleasure to me; and I can tell you all about everything afterwards, ifwe can manage to get a moment alone."

  She paused, and I waited anxiously. Then she spoke with a delightfulsmile:

  "That must be as Mrs. Jack says. But we shall see!" With this I had tobe content for the present.

  When we came up to her, Mrs. Jack said in a woeful way:

  "Oh, Miss Anita, I don't know what to do. The sand is so heavy, and myclothes are so weighty with the wet, and my boots squish so with thewater in them that I'm beginning to think I'll never be able to get warmor dry again; though I'm both warm enough and dry enough in other ways."As she spoke she moved her feet somewhat after the manner of a beardancing, so as to make her wet boots squeak. I would have liked to havelaughed, though I really pitied the poor thing; but a glance at theconcern on Miss Anita's face checked me. Very tenderly she began to helpand comfort the old lady, and looked at me pleadingly to help her. "Whydear" she said "no wonder it is hard walking for you with your clothesso wringing wet," and she knelt down on the wet sand and began to wringthem out. I looked around to see what I could do to help. Just opposite,where we were the outcrop of rock on which the Hawklaw is based sent upa jagged spur of granite through the sand, close under the bent-coveredhillocks. I pointed to this and we led the old lady over to it and madeher sit down on a flat rock. Then we proceeded to wring her out, sheall the while protesting against so much trouble being taken abouther. We pulled off her spring-side boots, emptied them out and, withconsiderable difficulty, forced them on again. Then we all stood up, andthe girl and I took her arms and hurried her along the beach; we allknew that nothing could be done for real comfort till we should havereached the hotel. As we went she said with gratitude in every note ofher voice, the words joggling out of her as she bumped along:

  "Oh, my dears, you are very good to me."

  Once again the use of the plural gave me pleasure. This time, however,it was my head, rather than my heart, which was affected; to be sobracketted with Miss Anita was to have hope as well as pleasure.

  Things were beginning to move fast with me.

  When we got to Cruden there was great local excitement, and much runningto and fro on the part of the good people of the hotel to get dryclothes for the strange ladies. None of us gave any detail as to how thewetting took place; by some kind of common consent it was simply madeknown for the time that they had been overtaken by the tide. When oncethe incomplete idea had been started I took care not to elaborate it. Icould see plainly enough that though the elder lady had every wish to beprofuse in the expression of her gratitude to me, the younger one notonly remained silent but now and again restrained her companion by awarning look. Needless to say, I let things go in their own way; it wastoo sweet a pleasure to me to share anything in the way of a secret withmy new friend, to imperil such a bliss by any breach of reticence. Theladies were taken away to bedrooms to change, and I asked that dinnerfor the three of us might be served in my room. When I had changed myown clothes, over which operation I did not lose any time, I waited inthe room for the arrival of my guests. Whilst the table was being laid Ilearned that the two ladies had come to the hotel early in the day in adogcart driven by the younger one. They had given no orders except thatthe horse should be put up and well cared for.

  It was not long before the ladies appeared. Mrs. Jack began to expressher gratitude to me. I tried to turn it aside, for though it moved mea little by its genuineness, I felt somewhat awkward, as though I wereaccepting praise under false pretences. Such service as I had been ableto render, though of the utmost importance to them, had been so easy ofexecution to me that more than a passing expression of thanks seemedout of place. After all I had only accepted a wetting on behalf of twoladies placed in an awkward position. I was a good swimmer; and my partof the whole proceeding was unaccompanied by any danger whatever, Ithought, of course, had it been later in the coming of the storm, thingsmight have been very different. Here I shuddered as my imagination gaveme an instantaneous picture of the two helpless women in the toils ofthe raging sea amongst those grim rocks and borne by that racing tidewhich had done poor Lauchlane Macleod to death. As if to emphasise myfears there now came a terrific burst of wind which seemed to sweep overthe house with appalling violence. It howled and roared above us, sothat every window, chimney and door, seemed to bear the sound right inupon us. Overhead was heard, between the burst which shook the windowsand doors, that vague, booming sound, which conveys perhaps a bettersense of nature's forces when let loose, than even the concreteexpression of their violence. In this new feeling of the possibilitiesof the storm, I realised the base and the truth of the gratitude whichthe ladies felt; and I also realised what an awful tragedy might havecome to pass had I or some one else not come down the path fromWhinnyfold just when I did.

  I was recalled to myself by an expression of concern by Mrs. Jack:

  "Look how pale he has got. I do hope he has not been hurt." MechanicallyI answered:

  "Hurt! I was never better in my life," then I felt that my pallor musthave left me and that I grew red with pleasure as I heard Miss Anitasay:

  "Ah! I understand. He did not have any fear for himself; but heis beginning to feel how terrible it was for us." The fulness ofunderstanding on the part of the beautiful girl, her perfect and readysympathy, the exactness of her interpretation of my mind, made for me aninexpressible pleasure.

  When I told Mrs. Jack that I had ventured to claim them both as myguests, and hoped that they would honour me by dining with me, shelooked at her companion in the same inquiring way which I had alreadynoticed. I could not see the face of the younger lady at the moment asit was turned away from me, but her approval was manifest; the answerwas made gladly in the affirmative. Then I put forth a hope that theywould allow me to have a carriage ready to take them home, whenever theymight desire, so that they might feel at ease in remaining till they hadbeen thoroughly restored after their fatigue. I added that perhaps itwould be good for Miss Anita. Mrs. Jack raised her eyebrows slightly,and I thought there was a note of distance in her voice, as though sheresented in a quiet way my mentioning the name:

  "Miss Anita!" she said; and there was that unconscious stiffening ofthe back which evidences that one is on guard. I felt somewhat awkward,as though I had taken a liberty. The younger lady saw my difficulty, andwith a quick smile jumped to the rescue.

  "Oh Mrs. Jack" she said "I quite forgot that we were never introduced;but of course he heard you mention my name. It was rather hurried ourmeeting; wasn't it? We must set it right now." Then she added verydemurely:

  "Dear Mrs. Jack, will you present to Miss Anita, Mr.----" she looked atme interrogatively.

  "Archibald Hunter" I said, and the presentation was formally made. ThenMiss Anita answered my question about the carriage:

  "Thank you for your kind offer, Mr. Archibald Hunter" I thought shedwelt on the name, "but we shall drive back as we came. The storm willnot be quite so bad inland, and as it does not rain the cart will be allright; we have plenty of wraps. The lamps are good, and I know the road;I noted it well as we came. Is not that right?" she added, turning toher companion.

  "Quite right, my dear! Do just as you like," and so the manner of theirgoing was arranged.

  Then we had dinner; a delightful, cosy meal. The fire leaped wheneverthe wind roared; and as the darkness of the storm made a sort ofpremature nightfall, it gave a pleasant, homely look to everything.After dinner we sat round the fire, and I think for a time we wereall content. To me it was so like a dream. To sit there close to thebeautiful stranger, and to think of the romantic beginning of ouracquaintance, was enjoyment beyond words. As yet I did not dare tocast a glance forwards; but I was content to wait for that. I had aconviction that my own mind was made up.

  After a little while we all became silent. Mrs. Jack was beginning todoze in her chair, and we two young folk
instinctively banded ourselvestogether with our youthful superiority over sleep and fatigue. Isat quite still; there was something so sweet in this organisedcompanionship of silence that it enraptured me. I did not need MissAnita's look of caution to remain quiet; there was something in herface, some power or quality which was as eloquent as speech. I began tothink of it; and the habit of introspection, which had now become a partof my nature, asserted itself. How much of this quality I thought, wasin her face, how much in my own eyes and the brain that lay behind them.I was recalled to myself by a whisper:

  "I thought for a moment you were going to sleep too. Hsh!" she placed afinger on her lip a moment and then tiptoed over to the sofa; taking asoft cushion she placed it under Mrs. Jack's head, which had now fallenover sideways upon the arm of the chair. Then she sat beside me again,and bending over said softly:

  "While she is asleep would you mind walking down to the beach, I want tosee the waves. They must be big by now; I can hear their roaring fromhere."

  "I will go with delight;" I said "but you must wrap up properly. It willnot do to run any chance of a chill."

  "All right, oh wise man! I obey, King Solomon! I shall wait to put on myown clothes till I get back; and you can lend me a mackie-coat if youwill." I got one of mine for her, the newest; and we walked over thesandhills to the beach.

  The wind was blowing furiously. It never left off for a moment; butoccasionally there were bursts of such added violence that we found itdifficult to keep our feet. We clung to each other at such moments, andthe very sense of the strength which enabled me to shield her somewhatfrom the violence of the storm, made a new feeling of love--I could notnow disguise it from myself. Something went out from me to her; somesubtle feeling which must, I suppose, have manifested itself in someway, how I know not, for I kept guard upon myself. For one blissfulmoment, possibly of forgetfulness, she clung to me as the weak cling tothe strong, the clinging of self-surrender which is equally dear to theweak and the strong, to the woman and the man. And then she drew herselfsharply away from me.

  There was no misunderstanding the movement; it was an intentional andconscious one, and the motive which lay behind both was her woman'smystery. I did not know much about women, but I could make no mistakeas to this. Inasmuch as Providence has thought fit in its wisdom tomake men and women different, it is just as well that each sex shouldat critical times use its own potentialities for its protection andadvancement. Herein comes, in the midst of an unnatural civilisation,the true utility of instinct. Since we have lost the need of earlyinformation of the presence of game or of predatory animals or hostilemen, even our instincts adapt themselves to our surroundings. Manyan act which may afterwards seem the result of long and carefulpremeditation is, on reflection, found to be simply the result of thatform of momentary impulse which is in reality a blind obedience tosome knowledge of our ancestors gained through painful experience.Some protective or militant instinct whose present exercise is but avariant of its primal use. For an instant the man and the woman wereantagonistic. The woman shrank, therefore it was the man's interest toadvance; all at once the man in me spoke through the bashfulness andreticence of years:

  "Why do you shrink from me? Have I done anything?"

  "Oh no!"

  "Then why?" A hot blush mantled her face and neck. Had she been anEnglish girl I should not probably have had a direct answer; she wouldhave switched conversation on some safer track, or have, after someskirmishing, forbidden the topic altogether. This girl's training,however, had been different. Her equal companionship in study with boysin school and college had taught her the futility of trying to burke aquestion when her antagonist was masculine; and the natural pluck anddominance--the assertion of individuality which is a part of an Americanwoman's birthright--brought up her pride. Still blushing, but bearingherself with additional dignity, she spoke. Had she been moreself-conscious, and could she have seen herself at the moment, she wouldhave recognised to the full that with so much pride and so much dignityshe could well afford to discuss any topic that she chose.

  "The fault is not yours. It is, or it was, my own."

  "You mean when I gave you back your brooch?" The blood deepened anddeepened to a painful intensity. In a low voice, in the tone of speech,but with only the power of a whisper she answered me:

  "Yes!" This was my chance and I said with all the earnestness I had, andwhich I felt to the full:

  "Let me say something. I shall not ever allude to it again unless youwish. I took that sweet acknowledgment of your gratitude exactly as itwas meant. Do believe that I am a gentleman. I have not got a sister, Iam sorry to say, but if I had, I should not mind her giving a kiss to astranger under such circumstances. It was a sweet and womanly act and Irespect--and--like you more for it. I wouldn't, of course, for all theworld you hadn't done it; and I shall never forget it. But believe meI shall never forget myself on account of it. If I did I should be ahowling cad;--and--that's all."

  As I spoke her face brightened and she sighed with an expression ofrelief. The blush almost faded away, and a bright smile broke over herface. With a serious deep look in the eyes which glistened through hersmile she held out her hand and said:

  "You are a good fellow, and I thank you with all my heart."

  I felt as if I walked on air as we forced our way through the stormwhich roared around us, over the sandhills towards the sea. It was withan exultation that made my head swim that I noticed that she kept stepwith me.