The Bars of Iron

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE ENCHANTED LAND

  At ten o'clock that night, Avery went round to bid each child good-night.She found Gracie sleeping peacefully with her bed pushed close toJeanie's. The latter was awake and whispered a greeting. On the otherside of the room Olive slept the sleep of the just. Avery did not pauseby her bed, but went straight to Jeanie, who held her hand for a littleand then gently begged her to go to bed herself.

  "You must be so tired," she said.

  Avery could not deny the fact. But she had arranged to sleep in Mrs.Lorimer's room, so she could not look forward to a night without care.She did not tell Jeanie this, however, but presently kissed her tenderlyand stole away.

  She visited the younger boys, and found them all asleep; then slipped upto the attic in which the elder lads slept.

  She heard their voices as she reached the closed door. She knocked softlytherefore, and in a moment heard one of them leap to open it.

  It was Ronald, clad in pyjamas but unfailingly courteous, who invitedher to enter.

  "I knew it must be you, Mrs. Denys. Come in! Very pleased to see you.Wait a second while I light a candle!"

  He did so, and revealed Julian sitting up in bed with sullen defiancewrit large upon his face. But he smiled at sight of her, and patted theside of his bed invitingly.

  "Don't sit on the chair! It's untrustworthy. It's awfully decent of youto look us up like this,--that is, if you haven't come to preach."

  "I haven't," said Avery, accepting the invitation since she felt tooweary to stand.

  Julian nodded approval. "That's right. I knew you were too much of abrick. I'm awaiting my next swishing for upsetting my cup at breakfast inyour defence, so I hardly think I deserve any pi-jaw from you, do I?"

  "Oh, I'm not at all pi, I assure you," Avery said. "And if it was donefor my sake, I'm quite grateful, though I wish you hadn't."

  Julian grinned at her, and she proceeded.

  "I don't think you need wait any longer for the swishing. Your father hasdecided, I understand, not to carry the matter any further."

  Julian opened his eyes wide. "What? You've been at him, have you?"

  Avery smiled even while she sighed.

  "Oh, I'm no good, Julian. I only make things worse when I interfere. No,it's not due to me. But, all the same, I hope and believe the trouble hasblown over for the present. Do--do try and keep the peace in the future!"

  Her weariness sounded in her voice; it quivered in spite of her.

  Julian placed a quick, clammy hand on hers and squeezed itaffectionately.

  "Anything to oblige!" he promised generously. "Here Ron! Shy over thoseletters! She wants something to cheer her up."

  "Letters!" Avery looked round sharply. "I had forgotten myletters!" she said.

  "Here they are!" Ronald came forward and placed them in her hand. "Ipicked 'em up this morning, and then when you sent me off for the doc, Iforgot all about 'em. I'm sorry. I only came across them when I wasundressing, and you were busy in the mater's room, so I thought I'd keepthem safe till to-morrow. I hope they are not important," he added.

  "I don't suppose so," said Avery; yet her heart jerked oddly as sheslipped them into her dress. "Thank you for taking care of them. I mustbe going now. You are going to be good?"

  She looked at Julian, who, still feeling generous, thrust a rough, boyisharm about her neck and kissed her.

  "You're a trump!" he said. "There! Good-night! I'll be as meek as Mosesin the morning."

  It was a definite promise, and Avery felt relieved. She took leave ofRonald more ceremoniously. His scrupulous politeness demanded it. Andthen with feet that felt strangely light, considering her fatigue, sheran softly down again to Mrs. Lorimer's room.

  In the dressing-room adjoining, she opened and read her letters. One ofthem--the one with the Australian stamp, characteristically brief butkind--was to tell her that the writer, a friend of some standing, wascoming to England, and hoped to see her again ere long.

  The other, bearing the sinister Evesham crest, lay on the table unopenedtill she was undressed and ready to join Mrs. Lorimer. Then--for thefirst time in all that weary day of turmoil--Avery stole a few momentsof luxury.

  She sat down and opened Piers' letter.

  It began impetuously, without preliminary. "I wonder whether you have anyidea what it costs to clear out without a word of farewell. Perhaps youare even thinking that I've forgotten. Or perhaps it matters so little toyou that you haven't thought at all. I know you won't tell me, so it'snot much good speculating. But lest you should misunderstand in any way,I want to explain that I haven't been fit to come near you since weparted on Christmas Eve. You were angry with me then, weren't you? Averyin a temper! Do you remember how it went? At least you meant to be, butsomehow you didn't get up the steam. You wished me a happy Christmasinstead, and I ought to have had one in consequence. But I didn't. Iplayed the giddy goat off and on all day long, and my grandfather--dearold chap--thought what a merry infant I was. But--you've heard of theworm that dieth not and the fire that is not quenched? The ReverendStephen has taken care of that. Do you remember his 'penny-terrible' of aSunday or two ago? You were very angry about it, Avery. I love you whenyou're angry. And how he dilated on the gates of brass and the bars ofiron and the outer darkness etc, etc, till we all went home and shiveredin our beds! Well, that's the sort of place I spent my Christmas in, andI wanted to come to you and Jeanie and be made happy, but--I couldn't. Iwas too fast in prison. I felt too murderous. I hunted all the next dayto try and get more wholesome. But it was no good. I was seeing red allthe time. And at night something happened that touched me off like anexploded train of gunpowder. Has Tudor told you about it yet? Doubtlesshe will. I tried to murder him, and succeeded in cracking his eye-glass.Banal, wasn't it? And I have an uneasy feeling that he came out top-dogafter all, confound him!

  "Avery, whomever else you have no use for, I know you're not in love withhim, and in my saner moments I realize that you never could be. But Iwasn't sane just then. I love you so! I love you so! It's good to be ableto get it right out before you have time to stop me. For I worship you,Avery, my darling! You don't realize it. How should you? You think it isjust the passing fancy of a boy. A boy--ye gods!

  "I think of you hour by hour. You are always close in your own secretplace in my heart. I hold you in my arms when no one else is near. Ikiss your forehead, your eyes, your hair. No, not your lips, dear, evenin fancy. I have never in my maddest dreams kissed your lips. But I acheand crave and long for them, though--till you give me leave--I dare noteven pretend that they are mine. Will you ever give me leave? You say Nonow. Yet I think you will, Avery. I think you will. I have known eversince that first moment when you held me back from flaying poor oldCaesar that I have met my Fate, and because I know it I'm trying--foryour sweet sake--to make myself a better man. It's beastly uphill work,and that episode with Tudor has pulled me back. Confound him! By the waythough, it's done me good in one sense, for I find I don't detest himquite so hideously as I did. The man has his points.

  "And now Avery,--dear Avery, will you forgive me for writing all this? Iknow you won't write to me, but I send my address in case! And I shallwatch every mail day after day, night after night, for the letter thatwill never come.

  "Pathetic picture, isn't it? Good-bye!

  "PIERS.

  "My love to the Queen of all good fairies, and tell Pixie that I hope thegloves fitted."

  Avery's lips parted in a smile; a soft flush overspread her face. Thatcostly gift from the children--she had guessed from the beginningwhence it came.

  And then slowly, even with reverence, she folded the letter up, and rose.Her smile became a little tremulous. It had been a day of many troubles,and she was very tired. The boy's adoration was strangely sweet to herwearied senses. She felt subtly softened and tender towards him.

  No, it must not be! It could not be! He must forget her. She would writeto-morrow and tell him so. Yet for that one night the charm held
her.She viewed from afar an enchanted land--a land of sunshine and singingbirds--a land where it was always spring. It was a country she had seenbefore, but only in her dreams. Her feet had never wandered there. Thepath she had followed had not led to it. Perhaps it was all a mirage.Perhaps there was no path.

  Yet in her dreams she crossed the boundary, and entered theforbidden land.