*CHAPTER XIII*
The old proverb, "One man may better steal a horse, than another lookover the hedge," like most sayings of its kind, possesses a very deepmeaning, particularly when applied to the passions and emotions by whichhuman nature is swayed.
There are beings, for instance, to whom a little flirtation is apastime, enjoyable maybe, but never to be allowed to interfere with theserious business of their lives; it is taken up or dropped whenever itpleases them, for their natures allow them so to do. On the other hand,there are others to whom a love affair, once entered upon, means atemporary enthralment of body and soul; and to this class belongedHector Graeme. Though but ten days had elapsed since the episode of thebookmarker, he had managed, even in that short space, to forget bothlove of wife and his ambition, the one destroyed for ever, the other forthe time superseded by a mad unreasoning desire of possession the moreimperative because of the seeming impossibility of fulfilment.
The small phial, hidden away in his dressing-case, was by now almostempty. Its contents had been drawn on at the rate of three or fourtabloids a night, and yet sleep, save intermittently, failed him; norcould he eat, racked as he was by the triple pangs of unsatisfieddesire, impatience of the wasted present, and jealousy of the future,with its certain rivals.
Such love as this the brutal and plain-spoken call "lust," the morerefined "earthly passion." Scornfully they contrast it with thesentiments they feel for their own beloved, ignoring the fact that lovebetween man and woman, disguise it as you will, is that and thatonly--the sexless guardians of the harem proving this in theirinsensibility to the emotion--though it varies according to the natureof him or her who feels it.
Thus the dull, material being is as dull and brutish in his loves as heis in all else; the rare, steadfast nature, knowing no satiety, loves ontill death; the ardent and imaginative invests his mistress with a haloof romantic fancies. And so, Hector loved Stara, with an exalted,passionate adoration, rendering him, for the time, ready and longing forany manifestation of self-sacrifice, and, as he truly believed,incapable of the very wrong to the accomplishment of which his wholepresent energies were nevertheless directed.
It is men like Graeme who are the only really dangerous lovemakers topure-minded women, for apparently grossness has no part in their minds,they place their divinities on a pedestal and worship at it: not forworlds, they declare and believe, would they sully her white purity withsuggestions of earthly passion. Then the time comes, and they ... do,and that far more effectually and thoroughly than doer, the ordinarycommonplace lover, whose feeling, though obviously of the earth, isnevertheless healthy, and not rendered unnatural and fantastic by afevered imagination. And so Hector vowed that Stara was, and would bealways, sacred to him: he only wanted her love, that was all, and togain this he now concentrated all the force of which his nature wascapable. But the days were slipping by, the end of the journey wasalready in sight, and still so far, apparently, his efforts were all invain; for, from the first, Stara had made it plain that she would havenone of his lovemaking. Good friend he might be to any extent, butnothing more; and to this resolution she adhered, despite all hisattempts at trespass on ground forbidden, and thereby renderedimperatively desirable.
The whole day long she would sit with him, and often till late at night,when the decks were dark, and, save for them, deserted; also she woulddance with him, fence with him, and on one occasion had even matchedherself to drink against him. This last, however, like their fencingbouts, had resulted in humiliation to Hector, who, with the deck heavingbeneath his feet and the stars dancing giddily above him, had staggeredaway below, his steps being guided by the soft, white, yet steel strongarm of his late antagonist. Further, she would discuss love in all itsaspects, but at any attempt on his part to take advantage of hercandour, and turn the conversation to a personal issue, Stara wouldround on him, lashing him with her tongue in a manner that left Hectorsullen and discomfited for hours afterwards.
Indeed, so far, with the woman lay victory, even in those veryintellectual attainments on which he had now come to set such store; forhis reading, compared with hers, was as the veriest smattering, while inknowledge of subjects called deep, and ability to discuss them, Starawas on another plane.
Nevertheless, though hitherto baffled, Graeme's purpose remainedunchanged, rather it increased in intensity with the passing of thedays. Nor did his confidence in ultimate success lessen, for that Staraloved him he felt intuitively certain, though at the same time herealised that she was determined not to acknowledge that love, possiblyfrom pride, more likely because she did not believe in his, thinking itto be but a passing infatuation and not the life's passion it really wasto him.
He must make her believe--that was all; not by words, for they, herealised, would never convince her, but by action, and that soon, forhis own endurance, he knew, was now well-nigh at an end. The onlyquestion was, what was that action to be? Something big it must be;nothing small would do. Well, the bigger the better; he wouldn't shrinkwhatever it was, even to the burning of the ship, if necessary, andsubsequent rescue of Stara from the flames. He didn't care--the end wasbefore him, and everything must give way to the attainment of that end.
He was debating these things in his mind one afternoon, as he lay in hisdeck-chair with eyes closed and brain feverishly working. From theother side of the ship, where sports were now in progress, bursts ofdelighted screams and clapping of hands came at intervals.
Close beside him sat Stara, reading; a somewhat pale-faced Stara oflate, with blue shadows beneath the long, grey eyes.
Suddenly she smiled over her book, and, looking up at her companion,spoke. "Here's something for you, Colonel Graeme," she said. "Oh, I'msorry; I didn't see you were asleep."
"Asleep, how the devil could anyone sleep with that row going on? Oh,confound it all!" angrily, as another loud outburst of hilarity camefrom the other side.
"You're very captious this afternoon, why grudge those people theiramusement?"
"Amusement! Dropping potatoes into a bucket or chalking a pig's eye onthe deck? The swine's an unclean animal to most of them too, I shouldsay. Amusement--God!"
"Far better for you, Colonel Graeme, if you were to do the same, insteadof sitting all day reading unhealthy books. I should like to talk to youseriously about those books; I've been wanting to for some time. Willyou listen?"
"All right, if you'll listen too when I talk seriously, as I shall ...soon."
"What do you want to say, nothing silly, I hope; because, if so ... whatis it?"
"Never mind now; go on."
"Well, then--oh, bother you, Colonel Graeme--! I wish you wouldn'tinterrupt; I've forgotten what I was going to say."
"My books," watching her.
"Oh yes, don't stare, please. Well, an unhealthier selection than youhave here on board I've never seen. There's Edgar Allan Poe, forinstance, imagination gone mad. Schopenhauer, a philosophy to justifywrong-doing, hence its popularity; it's full of flaws too."
"How?"
"Here's one, at any rate: in his main argument for pessimism, he saysdesire for anything means unhappiness."
"He's quite right."
"And because we're always wishing for something, we must necessarily beunhappy. He's quite wrong; it's that which alone gives happiness andkeeps us alive; for, take away hope--the same thing, for what we desirewe hope to get--and suicide would inevitably follow. Everyone, even themost wretched hopes, don't you?"
"Yes, but don't rest content with hoping."
"Well, there's one flaw in your Schopenhauer, there are many others too,but never mind. Now for Lombroso, your other favourite. I see you have'The Man of Genius' there. Throw it overboard, if you're wise."
"What's the matter with it? It's science."
"Perfectly true, but you're neither a scientist nor a doctor. That bookis as bad for you as the advertisement of a quack medicine is for someweak-minded people. You find all your ow
n symptoms, and, like them, areglad when you do. Drop such reading, Colonel Graeme; take up somethinghealthy."
"Like that thing you've got there, I suppose, 'The Cow in the Morning,'isn't it? It sounds as if it might have been written by one ofLombroso's friends."
"Don't be cheap, please. It's 'The Heifer of the Dawn,' and, well, youmay think it silly, but I don't. Listen to this, and judge for yourself,though in the interests of women I consider this particular paragraphought to be suppressed." She took up the book and began to read.
"'She that is to retain her lover's love for ever must possess, first, abody without a flaw, or his senses will stray from her to other bodies,for it is their nature to seek their proper object; secondly,intelligence, or his esteem will depart elsewhere; and thirdly,goodness, or his soul will abandon her in search of that without whichit cannot do, and without which the other two component parts areworthless except for a time. And as it is for the woman so it is forthe man, with this difference, that their bodies and their intelligenceand their souls are totally unlike.'"
"And, if she has all that, he's bound to be faithful, I suppose?"
"In theory yes, but I'm afraid not practically. You see, the speaker,being a woman, looks at it from a woman's point of view, which is notthat of a man, their intelligence being, as she says, totally unlike.She thinks that, if she is perfectly beautiful, her husband's thoughtswill never stray to one less so. But that can't be right, for in manycases men have left beautiful wives for ugly mistresses. A woman can'tor won't see that--that--how shall I put it nicely?"
"That in the sexual instinct lies her whole attraction. Pah!"
"Thank you, though that's not nicely put.... And once that dies, herbeauty ceases to exist for him. She might be a picture on the wall asfar as he's concerned: the beauty is still there, and others see it, butthe owner has seen it too often and got tired."
"And the intellect part?"
"No good at all to keep him. A man may like talking to a so-calledclever woman--which, by the way, only means one quick to utilise men'sbrains, for no woman can originate, only receive--but that doesn'tprevent him from kissing a pretty fool five minutes afterwards."
"According to you, then, fidelity is impossible to a man."
"Certainly not; however, it's not love that keeps him faithful, butother things, a sense of honour, pride in his family, and possibly afeeling of compassion."
"What damned nonsense!"
"Colonel Graeme?"
"So it is. You sit there, knowing nothing at all about it, and reel offyards of cheap clap-trap cynicism picked up from rotten, morbid books.Lord, talk of my reading doing me harm!"
"My views are not gathered from books, but observation. I know what Isay is true."
"And may I ask how, if you do, you can contemplate the idea of marryingone of us brutes, as you told me the other day you did eventually?"
"Because I'm human, like everyone else, and when the time comes, as itunfortunately must, I suppose, I shall be like any other woman, orlike--like you. I shall recant all I've said, and believe in undyinglove and the rest of it. I can see now; then I shan't be able."
"Sure you can see now?
"Quite sure, Colonel Graeme, absolutely, perfectly sure," she added,somewhat unnecessarily meeting his eyes.
"'Absolutely--perfectly', why such emphasis, Stara?"
"Please don't call me 'Stara'; it annoys me."
"I shall call you 'Stara' from now."
"You will not. Why--why should you?"
"Because----"
"Be quiet, here's someone coming. Oh, it's that poor creature Hayward,why doesn't someone look after him? It's sad to see him."
"Drunken brute! I'll bash him if he comes here. I wish he would, andinsult you, I believe I'd kill him if he did."
"You'd do a very cowardly thing, then, which would disgust me more thanI can say. It's not the destruction, but the saving of life thatappeals to me, Colonel Graeme."
The man, a harmless creature enough save for his one failing, at thismoment shambled by, smiled vacantly at the two as he passed, and then,moving behind the wind screen some distance away, perched himself on therail, where he sat rocking, his figure just visible from where they sat.
"I've pity for that man, and pity only," continued Stara. "Why, whereare you going, Colonel Graeme, to see the sports? All right, I'll cometoo."
"No, stay where you are," answered Hector rather indistinctly, his faceaverted from her; "I'll be back in a minute, I'm only going down to mycabin to fetch..." The rest of the sentence was lost, the speakerhaving disappeared through the main companion.
Once more Stara returned to her book, and then a minute later flung itdown and jumped up, her face blanched and every nerve quivering; forhigh and shrill in her ears a scream of mortal terror was ringing andthen was suddenly hushed.
"Man overboard! starboard side!" wailed a voice from the forecastlehead. The beating of the screw ceased, and the ship quivered to theshort, sharp bursts of the siren.
A tumult of voices arose; the clatter of hurrying feet. "Where is he,who is it, Stara?" and Graeme, coat and shoes discarded, stood besideher.
"It's Hayward, he's no longer there, what are you going to do, ColonelGraeme? Hector, you shall not."
"Oh yes, I shall--but before I go--Stara, say it."
"Say what?"
"You love me, Stara--quick!"
"Oh, I do--I do, Hector--you--you shall not. Oh, Hector, there aresharks hereabouts."
"No shark can hurt me now, Stara, love; good-bye." and springing on tothe rail he stood for a second steadying himself, looked back once andwas gone. With a crash he struck the water, the blue surface seeming torush up to meet him as he fell, and then, like an arrow, flew down,apparently for miles, down through a strange jade-coloured world intothe very heart of the sea. Surely he must strike the bottom soon, hemust have journeyed for hours already, yet still he was rushing on.What would it be like, he wondered vaguely, that unknown oceanfloor--rock, sand or oozy mud?
Ah, he was stopping at last, and yes, slowly, very slowly rising. Thereturn to daylight had begun, but--what a journey lay before him: thoseendless miles of water, thousands of millions of tons of liquid crystalbetween him and air. Could he hold out, would his breath last? No, notunless he hurried, and a sudden desperate feeling of anxiety seizinghim, he began to fight, his hands tearing at the dense green wall abovehim. Frenzied, he fought, heart and lungs well-nigh bursting, and inhis head the loud, wild clanging of bells; then, suddenly, the desire tostruggle ceased, and in its place he felt a sense of rest and dreamycontent. In his head, now strangely clear and light, a voice began tosing--only one verse, that of a music-hall ditty, last heard at asoldiers' "sing-song" in Dutch Gethsemane. "I would I were a kipper inthe foam," it repeated for the hundredth time. Well, that's what hewas--in the foam, at any rate; but a kipper---a kipper... "I would Iwere a kipper in the foam."
He must think this out; it was clear as daylightreally--daylight--light--light; and then with a sudden stunning roar themists of death were torn asunder and the veil of water gone.
Slowly back from death's gates he came, his dazzled eyes blinking at thefathomless blue above, and labouring lungs gulping down the salt eveningbreeze. It seemed hours that he lay there, though but a minute in allhad passed since his leaving the ship's side, hours of perfect peace andrest; and then suddenly strength came rushing back, and with itconsciousness of his own being. A faint wonder at first, a chaos ofmingled remembrances, and then sequence of ideas and full realisation ofhis surroundings. With a thrust of his foot he raised his head andshoulders above the water and looked about him; there, a mile or soaway, floated the great grey shape of the _Dunrobin Castle_, a fainthaze of smoke showing above the scarlet funnels, her decks black withfigures, all faces turned to where he lay. And yes, that was a boatbeing lowered down her side, and thereupon the last cloud of mist liftedfrom his brain and he remembered what he had set himself to do.
Ag
ain he looked around, and saw some distance away a white object, withpole attached, looming gigantic against the sky, as it rose and fell tothe lift of the waves. Striking out, he swam towards it, and, seizingthe cork circle, held on, his eyes searching the water about him, andthen, with an exclamation, let go and struck out to where a black objecthad appeared for a moment above the surface and disappeared. Reachingthe spot, he waited, peering down, until it again slowly rose, and asteel claw shot up from the depths, gripped his foot, and under wentHector in the hold of a drowning man. Then up once more, the twointerlocked, till wrenching his arm free, Graeme beat on the other'shead, and the frenzied struggling ceased. Then throwing himself on hisback, and clutching the man's coat-collar, he slowly towed his prizeback, and, reaching the buoy just as his strength was failing, held ongasping, the other's head falling forward into the water, where it lay.
For a minute Graeme remained contemplating him, and then hauling him upbeside him, looked closely into his face.
"Dead, I think," he muttered, "and God knows I hope so. Anyway, I'vesaved what's left of you. I'm a hero now, thanks to you, you drunkensweep," and despite circumstances hardly calculated for mirth, somethingseemed to tickle Graeme, for he suddenly burst out laughing.
Suddenly he stopped, with a startled look in his eyes. "Now what wasthat?" he murmured. "I could have sworn something touched my foot." Helooked down, and below him saw hanging a dark shadow: a dull eye wasfixed upon his, and then the shadow was gone, hung poised for a moment,and whirling round, came back. A monstrous shape gleamed white throughthe green beneath him--a savage tug, and the burden he was holding wasnearly torn from his grasp, and then became strangely light, trailedloose in the water, now no longer clear.
For a second, Graeme was seized with wild terror, a loud shudderingshriek burst from his lips and went echoing across the sea; a hoarseshout of encouragement, the rattle and bang of feet upon boards, comingin instant response from the boat rushing onwards. Well its crew knewthe meaning of that cry, knew also that their efforts might be all invain, and where rescuer and rescued now floated nothing might be foundsave a few torn rags and a swirl of bloody water.
With this vision before their eyes, they bent themselves to their work;rough hands closed on the great oars, and corded muscles stood out onforearms, till the heavy boat rushed through the water and foam flew upfrom her bows. But the shriek was not repeated, for already rage hadconquered fear in Hector's heart, and with rage came not only the fiercedetermination to hold on to that which he had won, but to grapple withand destroy this new enemy who had dared to attack him.
Feverishly he sought for a weapon, and in his pocket found a smallknife. With eyes as wicked as those beneath him he peered down, his armdrawn back to strike. On came the shape once more, down went Hector'shand, a curse escaping him as the enemy turned and fled. "Damn you!" heshouted to his burden, "but for you I'd go after him, I can't leave you,though; I've sworn to get you back and I will. Come on, come on!" heshrieked.
"It's all right, sir; you're safe now," sounded from close behind, andGraeme and his prize were seized, hauled up and placed gently in theboat, a horrified "Gawd!" rising from the crew as they saw what Hectorwas holding in his arms. For, as he himself had said, it was only whatwas left of Hayward that had been saved from the seas.
"Let me go, blast you, let me go!" screamed Graeme, struggling with aburly sailor. "I've not begun on that shark yet, let me go!"
"Strike me, but you're a masterpiece!" muttered a voice. "It's no use,though, sir; the bastard's gone. Look," and a hand pointed to a blacktriangle, swiftly moving through the water a hundred yards away.
"'Ark, sir, to that," cried another; "they've seed you, sir, from theship," and for a moment the creaking of the oars ceased, all listeningto a dull roar rolling across the water from the motionless _DunrobinCastle_. "They're cheering you, sir; blow me if we don't cheer too,"and seven lusty voices set up an answering shout, Graeme the whilesitting frowning at the still open knife in his hand.
"Spoilt it all," he muttered, "that devil getting off."
Back across the sea the boat went springing, and, as she neared the greyside, from the whole ship's company--crew, passengers, stewards, eventhe white-aproned and behatted cooks waving ladles andfrying-pans--renewed cheering arose, and then suddenly was hushed, forthe boat was now under their eyes and they saw the grim heap in itsstern.
Up the lowered ladder went Graeme, the Captain himself standing at thegangway to meet him.
"You're a brave man, sir," he said; "it's not your fault it's been so... little use."
Graeme said nothing, for again the ill-timed merriment was seethingwithin him, and only with the greatest difficulty was held in check.
He hurried on, and then stopped, for Stara was before him, a new Starato him, the grey eyes misty with tears and face white and quivering.
"I've brought him back, Stara, what's left of him, a shark tried to getthe rest, but I fought him and won."
"God bless you, Hector. I--I----" and Stara burst out crying, whereuponthe cheering was renewed, and Graeme, with exultation in his heart, wentbelow.
* * * * *
"Can't--can't you forget it, Hector, it was wrung from me, is it fair totake advantage of a moment of weakness?"
Stara's form drooped before him, her whole attitude spoke defeat. Aloneon the darkened decks the two were standing; eight bells had justclanged through the stillness.
Hector looked at her, his eyes glowing into hers, drew nearer and thensuddenly bent and kissed her. Maddened at the touch of those soft lips,he caught her to him and repeated the offence a dozen times, Stararesting passive in his arms.
"Darling, why struggle any longer?" he whispered. "We love each other;it's no use fighting, Stara. Oh, my love my love;" and then stoppedconfounded, for the girl had done the best thing she could, and wassobbing violently on his shoulder.
At the sight, that which men call the better mood came upon Hector,passion yielding for the moment to tenderness, its child.
He laid his hand on the bowed head and stroked her hair.
"Stara, dearest, listen. It's true I love you, and you--it's no usedenying it now--love me; but there's no harm in that. I won't hurt you,dear. You're safe with me. We don't injure that which we love, Stara."
Stara looked up at him, the grey eyes tear-dimmed and hair tumbled.
"It--it's not possible, Hector; I couldn't trust you or--or ... myself."
"I'm strong enough for both, Stara."
Stara stared into his eyes, searching for that she wished to find, andwishing, as always, found.
"I want to trust you, Hector."
"You can. You're sacred to me."
"If I do, will you promise to--to be as you were, before ... you ...knew, you won't make love to me, you--you'll never try to kiss me again,you'll be content with my friendship?"
"More than content, Stara."
"If--if you really mean that, dear, if you won't take advantage of whatI've said, I--I ... will trust you, and ... for the last time I will sayit again, I love you, Hector. Good-night, dear."
"Good-night, Stara." He turned away, his eyes looking out seawards. Atouch on his shoulder roused him, and looking round, he saw Stara oncemore before him, her face scarlet and eyes shy.
"Hector."
"My dearest."
"I--I've come back to say ... good-night, dear; and ... as it's for thelast time, and from now we're only ... friends, you may ... just forthis once..."
For a moment she clung to him, returning kiss for kiss, and then,breaking free, hurried away, leaving Hector on fire behind her.