the captives-第43章

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he　were　embarrassed　and　were　conscious　that　he　had　been　making　a　fool　of　himself。　Maggie　felt　that　he　was　disappointed　in　her。　She　was　sorry　for　that；　but　she　was　as　she　was。

〃Well；　I'm　glad　you're　happy；〃　he　said；　looking　at　her　wistfully。　He　got　up　and　stood　awkwardly　looking　at　her。

〃I　want　you　to　promise　me　something；〃　he　said；　〃that's　really　what　I　came　for。　I　want　you　to　promise　that　you　won't　in　any　case　leave　your　aunts　before　the　New　Year。〃

She　got　up；　looked　at　him　and　gave　him　her　hand。

〃Yes；〃　she　said。　〃I　promise　that。〃

The　year　had　only　a　week　or　two　more　to　run　and　she　was　not　afraid　of　that　little　space　of　time。　He　seemed　to　want　to　say　something　more；　but　after　hesitating　he　suddenly　made　a　bolt　for　the　door　and　she　could　hear　him　stumbling　downstairs。

She　forgot　him　almost　as　soon　as　he　had　left　the　house；　but　his　words　nevertheless　brought　her　to　consider　her　aunts。　Next　morning　at　breakfast　time　she　had　a　further　reason　to　consider　them。　Aunt　Elizabeth　met　her；　when　she　came　downstairs；　with　a　very　grave　face。

〃Your　aunt's　had　a　terrible　night；〃　she　said。　〃She's　insisted　on　coming　downstairsI　told　her　not。　She　never　listens　to　anything　I　say。〃

Maggie　could　see　that　something　more　than　ordinary　had　occurred。　Aunt　Elizabeth　was　on　the　edge　of　tears；　and　in　so　confused　a　state　of　mind　that　she　put　sugar　into　her　egg；　and　then　ate　it　with　a　puzzled　air　as　though　she　could　not　be　sure　why　it　tasted　so　strange。　When　Aunt　Anne　came　in　it　was　plain　enough　that　she　had　wrestled　with　demons　during　the　night。　Maggie　had　often　seen　her　before　battling　with　pain　and　refusing　to　be　defeated。　Now　she　looked　as　though　she　had　but　risen　from　the　dead。　It　was　a　ghost　in　very　truth　that　stood　there；　a　ghost　in　black　silk　dress　with　white　wristbands　and　a　stiff　white　collar；　black　hair；　so　tightly　drawn　back　and　ordered　that　it　was　like　a　shining　skull…cap。　Her　face　was　white；　with　the　effect　of　a　chalk　drawing　into　which　live；　black；　burning　eyes　had　been　stuck。　But　it　was　none　of　these　things　that　frightened　Maggie。　It　was　the　expression　somewhere　in　the　mouth；　in　the　eyes；　in　the　pale　bony　hands；　that　spoke　of　some　meeting　with　a　torturer　whose　powers　were　almost　omniscientalmost；　but　not　quite。　Pain；　sheer　physical；　brutal　pain；　came　into　the　room　hulking；　steering　behind　Aunt　Anne's　shoulder。　It　grinned　at　Maggie　and　said；　〃You　haven't　begun　to　feel　what　I　can　do　yet；　but　every　one　has　his　turn。　You　needn't　flatter　yourself　that　you're　going　to　escape。〃

When　Aunt　Anne　moved　now　it　was　with　infinite　caution；　as　though　she　were　stalking　her　enemy　and　was　afraid　lest　any　incautious　gesture　should　betray　her　into　his　ambush。　No　less　marked　than　her　torture　was　her　courage　and　the　expectation　that　sustained　that　courage。　She　had　her　eyes　set　upon　something　very　sure　and　very　certain。　Maggie　was　afraid　to　think　what　that　expectation　might　be。　But　Maggie　had　grown　during　these　last　weeks。　She　did　not　now　kiss　her　aunt　and　try　to　show　an　affection　which　was　not　so　genuine　as　she　would　have　liked　it　to　be　by　nervous　little　demonstrations。　She　said　gravely：

〃I　am　so　sorry；　Aunt　Anne；　that　you　have　had　so　bad　a　night。　Shall　I　stay　this　morning　and　read　to　you？〃

Even　as　she　spoke　she　realised　with　sharp　pain　what　giving　up　her　meeting　with　Martin　meant。

〃What　were　you　going　to　do；　dear？〃　asked　Aunt　Anne；　her　eyes　seeing　as　ever　far　beyond　Maggie　and　the　room　and　the　house。　As　she　spoke　Thomas；　the　cat；　came　forward　and　began　rubbing　himself　very　gently；　as　though　he　were　whispering　something　to　his　mistress；　against　her　dress。　Maggie　had　an　impulse；　so　strong　that　it　almost　defeated　her；　to　burst　out　with　the　whole　truth。　She　almost　said：　〃I'm　going　out　to　meet　Martin　Warlock；　whom　I　love　and　with　whom　I'm　going　to　live。〃　She　hated　deceit；　she　hated　lies。　But　this　was　some　one　else's　secret　as　well　as　her　own；　and　telling　the　truth　now　would　only　lead　to　much　pain　and　distress；　and　then　more　lies　and　more　deceit。

So　she　said：

〃I'm　going　to　Piccadilly　to　get　some　things　for　Aunt　Elizabeth。〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Aunt　Elizabeth；　〃she　saves　me　a　great　deal　of　trouble。　She's　a　good　girl。〃

〃I　know　she's　a　good　girl；〃　said　Aunt　Anne　softly。

It　was　strange　to　remember　the　time　not　so　long　ago　when　to　run　out　of　the　house　and　post　a　letter　had　seemed　a　bold　defiant　thing　to　do　threatened　with　grave　penalties。　The　aunts　had　changed　their　plans　about　her　and　had　given　her　no　reasons　for　doing　so。　No　reasons　were　ever　given　in　that　house　for　anything　that　was　done。　The　more　Maggie　went　out；　the　more　she　was　drawn　in。

On　her　way　to　Martin　that　morning　the　figure　of　Aunt　Anne　haunted　her。　She　felt　for　a　brief　moment　that　she　would　do　anything；　yes；　even　surrender　Martin；　to　ease　her　aunt's　pain。　And　then　she　knew　that　she　would　not；　and　she　called　herself　cruel　and　selfish　and　felt　for　an　instant　a　dark　shadow　threatening　her　because　she　was　so。　But　when　she　saw　Martin　outside　Hatchard's　she　forgot　it　all。　It　was　a　strange　thing　that　during　those　weeks　they　neither　of　them　asked　any　questions　about　their　home　affairs。　It　was　as　though　they　both　inwardly　realised　that　there　was　trouble　for　them　of　every　kind　waiting　outside　and　that　they　could　only　definitely　realise　their　happiness　by　building　a　wall　around　themselves。　They　knew　perhaps　in　their　secret　hearts；　or　at　any　rate　Martin　knew；　that　they　could　not　hold　their　castle　for　long。　But　is　not　the　gift　of　three　perfect　weeks　a　great　thing　for　any　human　being　to　be　givenand　who　has　the　temerity；　the　challenging　audacity；　to　ask　with　confidence　for　even　so　much？

On　this　particular　morning　Martin　said　to　her：

〃Before　we　get　into　the　'bus；　Maggie；　you've　got　to　come　into　a　shop　with　me。〃　He　was　especially　boyish　and　happy　and　natural　that　morning。　It　was　strange　how　his　face　altered　when　he　was　happy。　His　brow　was　clear；　his　eyes　were　bright；　and　he　had　a　kind　of　crooked　confident　smile　that　must　have　won　anybody's　heart。　His　whole　carriage　was　that　of　a　boy　who　was　entering　life　for　the　first　time　with　undaunted　expectation　that　it　could　give　him　nothing　but　the　best　and　jolliest　things。　Maggie　as　she　looked　at　him　this　morning　caught　her　breath　with　the　astonishing　force　of　her　love　for　him。　〃Oh；　how　I'll　look　after　him；〃　was　her　thought。　〃He　shall　never　be　unhappy　again。〃

They　crossed　the　street　together；　and　stood　for　a　moment　close　together　on　the　kerb　in　the　middle　way　as　though　they　were　quite　alone　in　the　world。　She　caught　his　arm　and　they　ran　before　a　charging　motor…'bus；　laughing。　People　turned　back　and　looked　at　them；　so　happy　they　seemed。　They　walked　up　Bond　Street　and　Martin　drew　her　into　a　jeweller's。　She　had　never　possessed　any　ornament　except　her　coral　necklace　in　all　her　life　and　she　knew　now　for　the　first　time　how　terribly　she　liked　beautiful　things。　It　was　useless　of　her　to　pretend　that　she　did　not　know　that　he　was　going　to　give　her　something。　She　did　not　pretend。　A　very　thin　old　man；　who　looked　like　one　of　the　prophets；　drawn　out　of　the　wilderness　and　clothed　by　the　most　fashionable　of　London　tailors；　looking　over　their　shoulders　as　he　talked　to　them　because　he　saw　at　once　that　they　were　not　customers　who　were　likely　to　add　very　much　to　his　shop's　exchequer；　produced　a　large　tray；　full　of　rings　that　glittered　and　sparkled　and　danced　as　though　they'd　been　told　to　show　themselves　off　to　the　best　possible　advantage。　But　for　Maggie　at　once　there　was　only　one　possible　ring。　It　was　a　thin　hoop　of　gold　with　three　small　pearls　set　in　the　middle　of　it；　nothing　very　especial　about　it；　it　was　in　fact　less　striking　than　almost　any　other　ring　in　the　tray。　Maggie　looked　at　the　ring　and　the　ring　looked　at　Maggie。　It　was　as　though　the　ring　said；　〃I　shall　belong　to　you　whether　you　take　me　or　no。〃

〃Now；〃　said　Martin　with　a　little　catch　in　his　throat；　〃you　make　your　choice；　Maggie。〃　He　was　not　a　millionaire；　but　he　did　honestly　intend　that　whatever　ring　she　chose　she　should　have。

〃Oh；〃　said　Maggie；　whispering　because　the　shop　was　so　large　and　the　prophet　so　indifferent；　〃don't　you　think　you'd　better　choose？〃

At　the　same　time　she　felt　the　anxious　gaze　of　the　three　little　pearls　upon　her。

〃No；〃　said　Martin；　〃I　want　to　give　you　what　you'd　like。〃

〃I'd　like　what　you'd　like；〃　said　Maggie；　still　whispering。

At　this　banality　the　prophet　made　a　little　impatient　movement　as　though　he　really　could　not　be　expected　to　stand　waiting　there　for　ever。　Also　a　magnificent　lady；　in　furs　so　rich　that　you　could　see　nothing　of　her　but　her　powdered　nose；　was　waving　ropes　of　pearls　about　in　a　blase　manner　very　close　to　them；　and　Maggie　had　a　strange；　entirely　unreasonable　fear　that　this　splendour　would　suddenly　turn　round　and　snatch　the　little　pearl　ring　and　go　off　with　it。

〃I'd　like　that　one；〃　said　Maggie；　pointing。　She　heard　the　prophet　sniff　his　contempt；　but　she　did　not　care。

Martin；　although　he　would　willingly　have　given　her　the　most　gorgeous　ring　in　the　shop；　was　delighted　to　find　that　her　taste　was　so　good；　and　like　herself。　He　had　great　ideas　about　taste；　some　of　his　secret　fears　had　been　lest　her　strange　uncouth　upbringing　should　have　caused　her　to　like　gaudy　things。　He　could　have　hugged　her　before　them　all　when　she　chose　that　particular　ring；　which　he　had　himself　noticed　as　the　prettiest　and　neatest　there。

〃Just　see　whether　it　fits；　darling；〃　he　said。　At　the　word　〃darling〃　the　prophet　cast　another　despairing　look　about　the　shop；　as　though　he　knew　well　the　length　of　time　that　lovers　could　take　over　these　things　if　they　once　put　their　hearts　into　it。　Maggie　was　ashamed　of　her　stubby　finger　as　she　put　her　hand　forwardbut　the　ring　fitted　exactly。

〃That's　right；〃　said　Martin；　〃Now　we'll　have　this　put　into　a　case。〃

〃How　wonderful　he　is；〃　thought　Maggie。　Not　as　other　women　might　have　thought；　〃I　wonder　how　many　times　he's　done　this　before。〃　Maggie　thought　then　that　it　would　be　more　proper　to　retire　a　little　so　that　she　should　not　know　the　priceand　she　stood　in　the　doorway　of　the　shop；　looking　upon　the　wind　and　weather　in　Bond　Street　and　the　magnificent　motor　car　that　belonged　to　the　lady　with　the　pearls　and　a　magnificent　chauffeur；　who　was　so　superior　that　it　was　probable　that　the　lady　with　the　pearls　belonged　to　himand　she　saw　none　of　these　things；　but　was　conscious　of　herself　and　Martin　wrapt　together　in　a　mist　of　happiness　that　no　outside　force　could　penetrate。

As　they　walked　away　from　the　shop　she　said：　〃Of　course　I　won't　be　able　to　wear　it。〃

He　put　the　little　square　box；　wrapped　in　tissue　paper；　into　her　hand；　and　answered：　〃You　can　wear　it　on　a　ribbon　under　your　dress。〃

〃Oh　yes；〃　she　whispered；　pressing　his　hand　for　a　moment。

They　did　not　climb　on　to　a　'bus　that　morning；　but　walked　ahead　blindly；　blissfully；　they　did　not　know　whither。　They　were　now　in　wild　days　at　the　end　of　November　and　the　weather　was　tempestuous；　the　wind　blowing　with　a　screaming　fury　and　black　clouds　scudding　across　the　sky　like　portents。　Little　heavy　drops　of　rain　fell　with　a　sudden　urgency　as　though　they　were　emphasising　some　secret；　figures　were　swept　through　the　streets　and　the　roar　of　the　wind　was　so　vehement　that　the　traffic　seemed　to　make　no　sound。　And　yet　nothing　happenedno　great　storm　of　rain；　no　devastating　flood。　It　was　a　day　of　warning。

They　noticed　no