Chapter XVI
The Way of a Maid
Almost to her side I came before she was aware of me, so intent she wasupon her purpose. Two men of the village, fishermen whom I knew, she hadsummoned to her, and was passionately urging them to take her toKenneticook. But for all her beauty, her enthralling charm, they hungback doggedly—being but dull clods, and in a shaking terror at the veryname of the Black Abbé. It passed my comprehension that they should haveany power at all when those wonderful eyes burned upon them. Never had Iseen her so beautiful as then, her face wild with entreaty, herbewildering hair half fallen about her shoulders. A white, soft-fallingshawl, such as I had never before seen her wear, was flung about her,and one little hand with its live, restless fingers clutched the fabricclosely to her throat, as if she had been disturbed at her toilet.
I was about to interrupt her, for there was no moment to lose if I wouldaccomplish my purpose; but of a sudden she seemed to realize thehopelessness of her effort to move these stolid fishermen. Flinging outher arms with a gesture of bitterness and despair, she cried, pointingto Nicole’s boat:
“Push off the boat, you cowards, and I will go alone!”
And turning upon the word she found herself face to face with me.
Even in that light I could see her lips go ashen, and for a moment Ithought she would drop. I sprang to catch her, but she recovered, andshrank in a kind of speechless fury from my touch. Then she found wordsfor me, dreadful words for me to hear:
“Traitor! Assassin! Still _you_ to persecute and thwart me. It is _you_they fear. It is _you_ who plan the murder of that good and trueman—_you_ who will not let me go to warn him!” Then her voice broke intoa wilder, more beseeching tone: “Oh, if you have one spark of shame,_remember_! Let them push off the boat; and let _me_ go, that I may tryto save him!”
Her reproaches hurt me not, but what seemed her passion for him steadiedme and made me hard.
“You are mad, mademoiselle!” I answered sternly. “I am going to savehim.”
“As you have saved our house to-night!” she cried, with a laugh thatwent through me like a sword.
“I was outwitted by my enemies—and yours, mademoiselle. I go now to warnhim. Push down the boat, men. Haste! Haste!” I ordered, turning fromher.
But she came close in front of me, her great eyes blazed up in my face,and she cried, “You go to see that he does not escape your hate!”
“Listen, mademoiselle,” I said sharply. “I swear to you by the mother ofGod that you have utterly misjudged me! I am no traitor. I have been afool; or my sword would have been at your father’s side to-night. Iswear to you that I go now to expiate my mistake by saving your loverfor you.”
The first wave of doubt as to my treason came into her eyes at this; buther lips curled in bitter unbelief. Before she could speak, I went on:
“I swear to you by—by the soul of my dead mother I will save GeorgeAnderson or die fighting beside him! You shall have your lover,” Iadded, as I stepped toward the boat, which was now fairly afloat on theswirling current. Nicole was hoisting the sail, while one of thefishermen held the boat’s prow.
I think Yvonne’s heart believed me now, though her excited brain was asyet but partially convinced, or even, perhaps, as I have sometimes daredto think in the light of her later actions, another motive, quiteunrealized by herself, began to work obscurely at the roots of her beingas soon as she had admitted the first doubts as to my treachery. But noteven her own self-searching can unravel all the intricacies of a woman’smotive. As I was about to step into the boat she passed me lightly as aflower which the wind lifts and blows. She seated herself beside themast.
“What folly is this, mademoiselle?” I asked angrily, pausing with myhand upon the gunwale, and noticing the astonishment on Nicole’s face.
Her mouth set itself obstinately as her eyes met mine.
“I am going, too,” she said, “to see if you respect your mother’s soul.”
“You cannot!” I cried. “You will ruin our only chance. We must run milesthrough the woods after we land, if we are to get there ahead of LaGarne’s butchers. You could not stay alone at the boat”—
“I can!” said she doggedly.
“You could not keep up with us,” I went on, unheeding her interruption.“And if we delayed for you we should be too late. Every moment you stayus now may be the one to cost his life.”
“I am going!” was all she said.
I set my teeth into my lips. There was no alternative. Stepping quietlyinto the boat as if forced to acquiesce in her decision, with my lefthand I caught both little white wrists as they lay crossed, still for amoment, in her lap. I held them inexorably. At the same time I passed myright arm about the slim body, and lifted it. There was but the flutterof an instant’s struggle, its futility instantly recognized; and then,stepping over the boatside with her, I carried her to the edge of thewharf, set her softly down, sprang back into the boat, and pushed off asI did so.
“I will save him for you, mademoiselle,” I said, “and, believe me, Ihave just now saved him _from_ you!”
But she made no answer. She did not move from the place where I had sether down. There was a strange look on her face, which I could notfathom; but I carried it with me, treasured and uncomprehended, as theboat slipped rapidly down the tide.
As long as I could discern the wharf at all I could see that white formmoveless at its edge. I forgot my errand. I forgot her cruel distrust. Istrained my gaze upon her, and knew nothing save that I loved her.