Part 41 (1/2)

This was out of the question, and she knew it. The fact being that the whole move was a little ruse on her part with the object of befriending Claverton and Lilian, in a way covering their retreat, so as not to make it quite so conspicuous. Who knew, thought the good-natured girl, but that this very afternoon might decide the future of those two? So she had laid her little plan.

Gough, who had his own reasons for wanting to rejoin the others, professed that turning back was the very course he should have thought advisable, so with a conventional word or two of regret, they separated.

”Now one can breathe again,” exclaimed Claverton, in a tone of relief.

”I don't know,” laughed his companion; ”climbing a flight of very steep steps is likely to put one out of breath. And it's awfully steep here.”

”It is rather,” he answered, taking her arm to help her up the rough bush path, which was, in truth, like a flight of stairs. ”But you'll go wild with delight when we get to the top, I expect. It's just one of those views you revel in. And,” he added, tenderly, ”this is the first time I have had you all to myself to-day.”

”I thought I should have ridden this morning,” she said.

”Were you sorry you didn't?”

”They said it was too far for me to ride,” she went on as if not hearing his question. Then, looking suddenly at him: ”Yes, I was sorry; but--”

Claverton's heart gave a bound. Was this anything to augur from, after all? No. Lilian was not as most girls.

”But what?” he asked, eagerly. ”Nothing,” and the expression of her face was grave and troubled.

Of late she had been a prey to sad misgivings; at times she felt as if she had been playing a deceitful and unworthy part. She had let this man go on thinking she was learning to care for him--for she was sure that he did think so--knowing the while that she could never be anything to him; and now the time of her stay was drawing very near its close, and she must explain to him that the fact of having given him so much of her society, and sought his confidence, and shown her unmistakable esteem for him, was only her side to the compact which they had ratified that evening under the stars, and that they must part as they had met-- strangers, or what to him would seem but little less cold--friends only.

Yet she had been very happy with him, happier even than she dared own to herself. And now she must explain all this, and what would he think of her? Would he hate her? Would his powerful, all-in-all love change to bitter contempt? Ah! there lay the sting. But, no! She felt that he was different somehow to other men. He would understand perhaps, and pity her, and even not withdraw his love. She could not bear the thought of losing that--and she was so lonely. Yes; she would explain; this very day, she had made up her mind as to that. But when she tried to begin she had stopped short, and when he would have had her continue, had answered ”Nothing.”

Claverton did not urge her. He respected her sudden reticence, as he respected her every word, her lightest look. He, too, had his own thoughts to occupy him. With the shadow of her approaching departure lying upon his mind, deepening day by day as the time drew on, he was fast relapsing into the state of restless despondency to which he had been a prey before he tempted his fate so futilely. The wave of reckless happiness into which he had unquestioningly plunged, with nearly two months of Lilian's society before him, had rolled on, leaving him even worse than before. He would cast the dice again; but, instinctively, he felt that this time the throw would be fatal. Should he do it to-day? The opportunity was a rarely favourable one. But, no!

He would not mar the recollection of this one golden day, one of the few last they would spend together.

So in silence they continued the ascent, every now and then pausing to rest and look back. At length the arching trees overhead gave way, and a wall of rock rose in front.

”We are nearly there now,” said Claverton, leading the way along beneath the rock. ”This is our way.”

”Oh, look!”

There was a rustle among the bushes, as a buck, which had been lying in the sun at the base of the cliff, sprang up and plunged into the cover, where they could hear it bounding away down the hill.

”How pretty! I've never seen one so close before--at least, not alive,”

she went on. ”I could see its eyes quite plainly; but how it startled me!” she added, with a laugh.

”All the unwonted eights that you do see are always when you are with me,” said Claverton, with a pleased smile. ”But here we are at last.

One more staircase, though.”

They stood before a yawning fissure falling back so as to make a natural staircase to the brow of the cliff. Nearly a hundred feet above, queer jagged pinnacles stood one above the other all up the sides of the gully, at whose entrance rose a great perpendicular tower of rock, with a huge boulder resting fantastically upon its summit. A tiny thread of water trickled down a well-worn channel, and from every cornice and cranny trailed a profusion of the most delicate maiden-hair ferns.

Lilian was enchanted. While pausing for a moment to rest, she dipped her hands into some clear water gathered in its little stony basin. In the act of withdrawing them, a ring slipped from one of her fingers and fell to the bottom of the water. It was a curious ring, consisting of two ropes of solid gold twisted together. Her companion fished it out, and, as he returned it to her, he noticed that she was deathly pale.

But he made no remark, only glanced in the opposite direction for a moment, in order to give her time to recover her self-possession. Yet he connected the circ.u.mstance with her former lapses of hesitation and restraint. In silence they resumed their way, and at length gained a wide ledge at the other end of which was the cave. It seemed of some depth, being wider and loftier at the month, narrowing thence into darkness.

”Wait, let me go in first and explore,” he went on, as a matter of precaution holding ready in his pocket the small revolver which had been his constant companion since Mopela's attempt on his life. Then striking a match he was about to advance.

”What's that?” exclaimed Lilian. But he had seen it as soon as she had, and placed himself in front of her. It was a human skull, standing on a ledge of rock about breast-high, and the eyeless sockets and white teeth looked ghastly enough, grinning at them dimly through the darkness. In an instant he had laid hold of it and jerked it away out of the cave down into the bush beneath.

”What was it?” she repeated.