Charles Rex

by Ethel M. Dell

  CHAPTER X

  IN THE NAME OF LOVE

  "It's been--a funny game," said Saltash, with a wry grimace. "We've bothof us been so damned subtle that it seems to me we've ended up in muchthe same sort of hole that we started in."

  "But you're not going to stay in it," said Maud.

  He turned and looked down at her, one eyebrow cocked at a comic angle."_Ma belle reine_, if you can help us to climb out, you will earn myundying gratitude."

  She met his look with her steadfast eyes. "Charlie, do you know thatnight after night she cries as if her poor little heart were broken?"

  Saltash's eyebrow descended again. He scowled hideously. "_Maispourquoi?_ I have not broken it. I have never even made love to her."

  Maud's face was very compassionate. "Perhaps that is why. She is soyoung--so forlorn--and so miserable. Is it quite impossible for you toforgive her?"

  "Forgive her!" said Saltash. "Does she want to be forgiven?"

  "She is fretting herself ill over it," Maud said. "I can't bear to seeher. No, she has told me nothing--except that she is waiting for you tothrow her off--to divorce her. Charlie, you wouldn't do that even if youcould!"

  Saltash was silent; the scowl still upon his face.

  "Tell me you wouldn't!" she urged.

  His odd eyes met hers with a shifting gleam of malice. "There is only onereason for which I would do that, _ma chere_," he said. "So she has nottold you why she ran away with my friend Spentoli?"

  Maud shook her head. "She does not speak of it at all. I only know thatshe was unspeakably thankful to Jake for protecting her from him."

  "Ah!" Saltash's teeth showed for an instant. "I also am grateful to Jakefor that. He seems to have taken a masterly grip of the situation. Is heaware that he broke Spentoli's arm, I wonder? It was in the papers,alongside the tragic death of Rozelle. 'Fall of a Famous Sculptor from aTrain.' It will keep him quiet for some time, I hear, and has saved methe trouble of calling him out. I went to see him in hospital."

  "You went to see him!" Maud exclaimed.

  Saltash nodded, the derisive light still in his eyes. "And conveyed myown condolences. You may tell _la petite_ from me that I do not proposeto set her free on his account. He is not what I should describe as agood and sufficient cause."

  "Thank heaven for that!" Maud ejaculated with relief.

  "Amen!" said Saltash piously, and took out his cigarette-case.

  She watched him with puzzled eyes till the cigarette was alight and hesmiled at her through the smoke, his swarthy face full of mocking humour.

  "Now tell me!" she said then, "how can I help you?"

  He made a wide gesture. "I leave that entirely to your discretion, madam.As you may perceive, I have wholly ceased to attempt to help myself."

  "You are not angry with her?" she hazarded.

  "I am furious," said Charles Rex royally.

  She shook her head at him. "You're not in earnest--and it wouldn't helpyou if you were. Besides, you couldn't be angry with the poor littlething. Charlie, you love her, don't you? You--you want her back?"

  He shifted his position slightly so that the smoke of his cigarette didnot float in her direction. His smile had a whimsical twist. "Do I wanther back?" he said. "On my oath, it's hard to tell."

  "Oh, surely!" Maud said. She rose impulsively and stood beside him."Charlie," she said, "why do you wear a mask with me? Do you think Idon't know that she is all the world to you?"

  He looked at her, and the twisted smile went from his face. "There isno woman on this earth that I can't do without," he said. "I learntthat--when I lost you."

  "Ah!" Maud's voice was very pitiful. Her hand came to his. "Butthis--this is different. Why should you do without her? You know sheloves you?"

  His fingers closed spring-like about her own. A certain hardness was inhis look. "If she loves me," he said, "she can come back to me of her ownaccord."

  "But if she is afraid?" Maud pleaded.

  "She has no reason to be," he said. "I have claimed nothing from her. Ihave never spoken a harsh word to her. Why is she afraid?"

  "Have you understood her?" Maud asked very gently.

  He made an abrupt movement as though the question, notwithstanding theabsolute kindness of its utterance, had somehow an edge for him. The nextmoment he began to laugh.

  "Why ask these impossible riddles? Has any man ever understood awoman? Let us dismiss the subject! And since you are here, _ma bellereine_,--you of all people--let us celebrate the occasion with adrink!--even if it be only tea!"

  His eyes laughed into hers. The western light was streaming in across themusic-room. They stood together in the turret beyond Saltash's piano,where she had found him pouring out wild music that made her warm heartache for him.

  She had come to him with the earnest desire to help, but he baffled herat every turn, this man to whom once in the days of her youth she hadbeen so near. She could not follow the complex workings of his mind. Hewas too quick to cover his feelings. His inner soul had long been hiddenfrom her.

  Yet the conviction persisted that if any could pass that closed door thathe kept so persistently against all comers, it would be herself. She hadonce possessed the key, and she could not believe that it was no longerin her power to turn it. He would surely yield to her though he barredout all beside.

  Perhaps he read her thoughts, for the laugh died out of his eyes, meltinginto the old tender raillery that she remembered so well.

  "Will you drink with me?" he said. "You have actually stooped to entermy stronghold without your bodyguard. Will you not honour me stillfurther--partake of my hospitality?"

  She smiled at him. "Of course I will have tea with you with pleasure,Charlie. Didn't you realize I was waiting to be asked?"

  "You are very gracious," he said, and crossed the room to ring a bell.

  She remained in the western turret, looking out over the beech woods thatblazed golden in the sun to the darker pine-woods beyond.

  "What a paradise this is!" she said, when he joined her again.

  His restless eyes followed hers without satisfaction. A certain moodinesshad come upon him. He made no answer to her words.

  "Why doesn't Bunny come up to see me?" he asked suddenly. "He knows I amhere."

  She looked at him in surprise. "Are you expecting him?"

  He nodded with a touch of arrogance. "Yes. Tell him to come! I shan'tquarrel with him or he with me. Is he still thirsting for my blood? He'swelcome to it if he wants it."

  "Charlie!" she protested.

  He turned from her and sat down at the piano. His fingers began to caressthe keys, and then in a moment the old sweet melody that he had played toher in the long ago days came softly through the room. Her lips formedthe words as he played, but she made no sound.

  "There has fallen a splendid tearFrom the passion-flower at the gate.She is coming, my dove, my dear;She is coming, my life, my fate.The red rose cries, 'She is near, she is near!'And the white rose weeps, 'She is late!'The larkspur listens, 'I hear, I hear!'And the lily whispers, 'I wait!'"

  "She is certainly very late," commented Charles Rex quizzically from thepiano. "And the lily is more patient than I am. Why don't you sing, Maudof the roses?"

  She started a little at his voice, but she did not answer. She could nottell him that her throat was dumb with tears.

  He played softly on for a space, then as the old butler entered with atea-tray, he abruptly left the piano to wait upon her. He made her sit inthe window-seat and presently sat down himself and talked of indifferentthings. She did not attempt to bring him back to the matter in hand. Sheknew him too well for that. If he chose to be elusive, no power on earthcould capture him.

  But she had a strong feeling that he would not seek to elude her wholly.He might seem to trifle, as a monkey swinging idly from bough to bough,but he had an end in view, and ultimately he would reach that end,however circuitous the route.

  He surprised her eventually by the suddenness with which he pounced uponit.
He had turned the talk upon the subject of his new yacht, and veryabruptly he announced his intention of going round the world in her.

  "Not alone?" she said, and then would have checked the words lest theyshould seem to ask too much.

  But he answered her without a pause. "Yes, alone. And if I don't comeback, Bunny can marry Toby and reign here in my stead. That is, if heisn't an infernal fool. If he is, then Toby can reign here alone--withyou and Jake to take care of her."

  "But, Charlie, why--why?" The words leapt from Maud in spite of her.

  He frowned at her whimsically. "They've always cared for one another.Don't you know it? It's true she put me in a shrine and worshipped me fora time, but I couldn't live up to it. _Figurez-vous, ma chere!_ Myself--amarble saint!"

  "You never understood her," Maud said.

  He shrugged his shoulders and went lightly on. "Oh, she was ready enoughto offer me human sacrifice, but that wasn't enough for me. Besides, Ididn't want sacrifice. I have stood between her and the world. I havegiven her protection. But it was a free gift. I don't take anythingin exchange for that." An odd note sounded in his voice, as of someemotion suppressed. He leaned back against the window-frame, his handsbehind his head. "That wasn't what I married her for. I tried to provethat to her. I actually thought--" the old derisive grin leapt across hisface--"that I could win her trust like any ordinary man. I failed ofcourse--failed hideously. She never expected decent treatment from me.She never even began to trust me. I was far too heavily handicappedfor that. And so--as soon as the wind changed--the boat capsized."

  "What made the wind change?" Maud asked gently.

  He looked across at her, the baffling smile still in his eyes. "The godsplayed a jest with us," he said. "It was only a small jest, but it turnedthe scale. She fled. That was how I came to realize I couldn't hold her.I had travelled too fast as usual, and she couldn't keep up. Well," heunlocked his hands and straightened himself, "it's up to Bunny now. I'lllet her go--to him."

  "My dear!" Maud said.

  He laughed at her with the old half-caressing ridicule. "That shocks you?But why--if they love each other? Haven't I heard you preach the gospelof love as the greatest thing on earth? Didn't you once tell me that Ihad yet to learn the joy--" his smile twisted again--"the overwhelmingjoy--of setting the happiness of another before one's own? This thing canbe done quite simply and easily--as I suggested to you long ago. She hasonly to go away with him, and I do the rest. A moral crime--no more. Yes,it is against your code of course. But consider! I only stand to losethat which I have never possessed. For the first time in my life, Icommit a crime in the name of--love!"

  He laughed over the word; yet even through the scoffing sound there camea ring of pain. His face had a drawn look--the wistfulness of the monkeythat has seen its prize irrevocably snatched away.

  Maud rose quickly. There was something in his attitude or expression thatshe could not bear. "Oh, you are wrong! You are wrong!" she said. "Youhave the power to make her love you. And you love her. Charlie, thisthing has not been given you to throw away. You can't! You can't!"

  He made a sharp gesture that checked her. "My dear Maud," he said, "thereare a good many things I can't do, and one of them is this. I can't holdany woman against her will--no, not if she were my wife ten times over. Iwouldn't have let her go to Spentoli. But Bunny is a different matter. Ihave Jake's word for it that he will make her a better husband than Ishall. If Bunny wants to know all about her past--her parentage--he cancome to me and I can satisfy him. Tell him that! But if he really lovesher--he won't care a damn--any more than I do."

  "Ah!" Maud said.

  She stood a moment, looking at him, and in her eyes was that mother-lookof a love that understands. She held out her hand to him.

  "Thank you for telling me, Charlie," she said. "Good-bye!"

  He held her hand. "What have I told you?" he asked abruptly.

  She shook her head. "Never mind now! You have just made me understand,that's all. I will give your message to Bunny--to them both. Good-bye!"

  He stooped in his free, gallant way to kiss her hand. "After all," hesaid, "I return to my old allegiance. It was you, _chere reine_, whotaught me how to love."

  She gently freed her hand and turned to go. "No," she said. "I think itwas God who taught you that."

  For the second time Charles Rex failed to utter the scoffing laugh shehalf-expected. The odd eyes looked after her with a kind of melancholyirony.

  "To what purpose?" he said.

  CHAPTER XI

  THE GIFT OF THE GODS

  A chill wind blew across the ramparts bringing with it the scent and thesound of the sea. There was no moon in the sky tonight, only the cloudsflying over the stars, obscuring and revealing them alternately, makingtheir light weirdly vague and fitful. Across the park an owl calledpersistently, its eerie hoot curiously like the cry of a human voicethrough the rustling night. The trees were murmuring together down by thelake as though some mysterious news were passing to and fro among them.And once more, alone on his castle walls, Saltash paced restlessly up anddown.

  It was his last night at Burchester, so he told himself, for many a yearto come. The fever for change was upon him. He had played his last cardand lost. It was characteristic of the man to turn his back upon hislosses and be gone. His soul had begun to yearn for the wide spaces,and it was in answer to the yearning that he had come up to this eagle'seyrie a second time. He could not be still, and the feeling of wallsaround him was somehow unbearable. But he expected no vision tonight. Hewalked in darkness.

  Down in the harbour his yacht was waiting, and he wondered cynically whatwhim kept him from joining her. Why was he staying to drain the cup tothe dregs--he who had the whole world to choose from? He had sent hismessage, he had made his sacrifice--at what a cost not even Maud wouldever know. It was the first voluntary sacrifice he had ever made, hereflected ironically, and he marvelled at himself to find that he caredso much. For, after all, what was it he had sacrificed? Nothing worthhaving, so he told himself. He had possessed her childish adoration, buther love--never! And, very curiously, it was her love that he had wanted.Actually, for the first time in his life, no lesser thing had appealed tohim. Jaded and weary with long experience, he owned now to a longing forthat at which all his life long he had scoffed. The longing was not to besatisfied. He was to go empty away. But yet the very fact that he hadknown it had in some inexplicable fashion purified him from earthlydesires. He had as it were reached up and touched the spiritual, and thatwhich was not spiritual had crumbled away below him. He looked back uponthe desert through which all his life he had travelled, and saw onlysand.

  The sound of the turret-door banging behind him recalled him to hissurroundings. He awoke to the fact that the wind was chill, and that adrift of rain was coming in from the sea. With an impatient shrug heturned. Why was he lingering here like a drunken reveller at a tableof spilt wine? He would go down to his yacht and find Larpent--Larpentwho had also loved and lost. They would go out on the turn of thetide--the two losers in the game of life--and leave the spilt wine behindthem.

  Impulsively he strode back along the ramparts. The game was over, and hewould never play again; but at least he would face the issue like a man.No one, not even Larpent, should ever see him flinch. So he reachedthe turret-door, and came abruptly to a halt.

  It was no vision that showed her to him, standing there in her slenderfairness, wrapt in a cloak that glimmered vaguely blue in the glimmeringstarlight. Her face was very pale, and he saw her frightened eyes as shestood before him. Her hands were tightly clasped together, and she spokeno word at all.

  The door was shut behind her, and he saw that she was trembling from headto foot.

  He stood motionless, within reach of her, but not touching her. "Well?"he said.

  She made a curious gesture with her clasped hands, standing before him asshe had stood on board his yacht on that night in the Mediterranean whenshe had come to him for refuge.

  "I've c
ome," she said, in a voice that quivered uncontrollably, "to tellyou something."

  Saltash did not stir. His face was in shadow, but there was a suggestionof tension about his attitude that was not reassuring. "Well?" he saidagain.

  She wrung her hands together with a desperate effort to subdue heragitation, and began again, "I've come--to tell you something."

  "Something I don't know?" he questioned cynically.

  She nodded. "Some--some--something you don't want to know. It--it wasMaud made me come."

  That moved him a little. That piteous stammer of hers had always touchedhis compassion. "Don't fret yourself, _ma chere_!" he said. "I know allthere is to know--all about Rozelle--all about Larpent--all aboutSpentoli."

  "You--you don't know this," said Toby. "You--you--you don't know--why Iran away from you--in Paris!"

  "Don't I?" he said, and she heard the irony of his voice. "I have anagile brain, my child. I can generally jump the gaps prettysuccessfully."

  She shook her head with vehemence. "And how do you know about Spentoli?"she demanded suddenly. "Who told you that?"

  "The man himself," said Saltash.

  "Ah! And what did he tell you?" A note of fierceness sounded in hervoice. She seemed to gather herself together like a cornered animalpreparing to make a wild dash for freedom.

  Saltash made her a queer, abrupt bow, and in so doing he blocked the waybefore her so that she could only flee by the way she had come. "He toldme nothing that I did not know before," he said, "nothing that your owneyes had not told me long ago."

  "What do you mean?" breathed Toby, pressing her clasped hands tightly toher breast. Her eyes were still upraised to his; they glittered in thedimness.

  Saltash answered her more gently than was his wont. "I mean that I knowthe sort of inferno your life had been--a perpetual struggle against oddsthat were always overwhelming you. If it hadn't been so, you would neverhave come to me for shelter. Do you think I ever flattered myself thatthat was anything but a last resource--the final surrender tocircumstance? If I had failed you--"

  "Wait!" Toby broke in tensely. "You're right in some things. You'rewrong there. It's true I was always running away--as soon as I was oldenough to realize the rottenness of life. Spentoli tried to ruin me,but I dodged him, and then--when he trapped me--the hell-hound--I did mybest--to murder him!" The breath suddenly whistled through her teeth. "Itried to stab him to the heart. God knows I tried! But--I suppose itwasn't in the right place, for I didn't get there. I left him fordead--I thought he was dead--till that day in Paris. And ever since--it'sbeen just a nightmare fight for life--and safety. I'd have tried someother dodge if you hadn't found me. I was not quite down and out. Butyou--you made all the difference. I had to go to you."

  "And why?" said Charles Rex.

  She rushed on regardless of question. The flood-gates were open; she washiding nothing from him now.

  "You came. If you'd been an angel from heaven, you couldn't have beenmore wonderful. You helped me--believed in me--gave me always--thebenefit of the doubt--made a way of escape for me--made lifepossible--even--even--beautiful!" She choked a little over the word. "Ioffered you just everything. I couldn't help it. You were the only man inthe world to me. How could I help worshipping you? You--you--you werealways so splendid--so--so great. You made me--you made me realize--thatlife was worth having. You made me--believe in God." She broke intosudden wild tears. "And you didn't love me enough even to take the littleI had to give! I didn't want you to marry me. I never dreamt of such athing. I had kept myself from harm, but I knew very well I wasn't fit tobe your wife. Only--I loved you so. And when I knew that Bunny wasturning against me--would never believe in me--I just couldn't helpturning to you again. And then--and then--you went and married me!" Shewrung her hands tragically. "I ought not to have let you. God will neverforgive me for it. I don't deserve to be forgiven. But I loved you--Iloved you!"

  She covered her face and sobbed.

  Saltash reached out a hand and took her by the shoulder. "Nonette!Nonette!" he said, in a voice that was strangely uncertain. "Don't cry,child! Don't cry!"

  She drew herself away from him. "Don't--don't! I don't want you to. Ijust came to tell you--that's all--in case you should think I ever--caredfor--Bunny. Maud says--you ought to know that. We only--only--playedtogether. We never--really--loved each other. I wasn't his sort--or hemine. He doesn't want me back. I wouldn't go if he did. I ran away--withthat damn cur Spentoli--to give you a chance--to drop me. I couldn'tface you after you knew everything. You'd never loved me, and I'd trickedyou too badly. I knew you'd want to get free. Why didn't you start in andget a divorce? Why didn't you? Why didn't you?"

  She suddenly lifted her face, storming the words, electrified as it wereby the wild force of her passion. Again he reached a hand towards her,but she eluded him with a desperate gesture.

  "No! No! Don't touch me! Don't touch me! I can't bear it! I'm going now!I'm going right away. You'll never see me again--never hear of me. Andyou'll be free! Do you understand? You'll be quite free. I'll keep thatpromise I made to you. It won't be difficult. No one shall ever knowhow--and only you--you who never even pretended to love me--will be ableto guess why."

  She turned about with the words, and wrenched furiously at the doorbehind her. In another moment she would have been gone. But in thatmoment Saltash moved, perhaps more swiftly than he had ever moved inhis life before, and in a flash he had her in his arms.

  She fought for her freedom then like a terrified animal, twisting thisway and that, straining with frenzied effort to escape. And when, hishold encompassing her, he broke down her resistance, pressing herindomitably closer and closer till she lay powerless and palpitatingagainst his breast, she burst into agonized tears, beseeching him,imploring him, to set her free.

  "Why should I?" he said, still holding her. "Don't you know yet that it'sthe very last thing I mean to do?"

  "You must! Oh, you must!" she cried back. "You can't--you--youcan't--hold me--against my will!"

  "That's true," said Saltash, as if struck by something. "And are youcapable of leaving me--against mine?" His hold relaxed with the words,and instantly she sprang away from him--sprang like a fleeing bird uponthe low parapet beside them, and in a second was sliding out upon thenarrow ledge that surrounded the great stone buttress of the turret.

  "Hell!" ejaculated Saltash, and gave a great leap as if he would pursueher, then with abrupt effort checked himself.

  He stood with one foot on the parapet, and watched her, and in the vaguestarlight his eyes burned with the old mocking devilry behind which hehad so long sheltered his soul.

  "So you think you'll get away from me that way, do you?" he said, andlaughed his gibing laugh. "Well, you may try. Either stay there tillyou've had enough--or throw yourself over! I'll get you in any case."

  She came to a stand, her hands spread out on each side of her, her eyesturning back to him across the awful space that yawned between. Sheerdepth was below her, but she did not seem aware of it.

  "I will throw myself over," she said with tense purpose, "unless youpromise--unless you swear--to let me go."

  He laughed again, but there was no mirth in the glittering eyes thatlooked back at her, neither mirth nor dismay, only the most arrogant andabsolute mastery that she had ever encountered.

  "I promise nothing," he said, "except that one way or the other I'm goingto have you. You can take your choice. You can sink or swim. But youwon't get away. There is a bond between us that you can't break, howeverhard you try. Fling yourself over if you think it's worth it? And beforeyou get to the bottom I shall be with you. I'll chase you through thegates of Hades. I've travelled alone far enough. For the future--we gotogether. That I swear to God!"

  Across the abyss he flung his tremendous challenge, the laugh still onhis lips and in his eyes the blazing derision that mocks at fate.

  And as she heard it, the girl's heart suddenly failed her. She began totremble. Yet, even so, she made a last desperate bid for p
ride andfreedom.

  She clutched at the cold stones on each side of her with nerveless,quivering fingers. "There is--no bond between us!" she gasped forthpiteously. "There never--never has been!"

  He flung back the words like a missile, unerring, blindingly direct. "Nobond between us! Good God! Would I follow you through death if there werenot?" And then suddenly, with an amazing change to tenderness that leaptthe void and enchained her where she stood:--"Toby--Toby, you littleass--don't you know I've loved you from the moment _The Night Moth_struck?"

  There was no questioning the truth of those words. A great sob broke fromToby, and the tension went out of her attitude. She stood for a fewseconds with her head raised, and on her face the unutterable rapture ofone who sees a vision. Then, with sharp anguish, "I can't come back!" shecried like a frightened child. "I'm going to fall!"

  Saltash straightened himself. His forehead was wet, but he did not pausefor a moment. "I'm coming to you," he said. "Keep as you are and I'llgive you a hand to hold!"

  She obeyed him as one dazed into submission. Blindly she waited, tillwith a monkey-like agility, he also had traversed that giddy ledge towhere she stood. His fingers met and gripped her own.

  "Now," he said, "come with me and you are safe! You can't fall. My loveis holding you up."

  She heard the laugh in his voice, and her panic died. Mutely she yieldedherself to him. By the strength of his will alone, she left the abyssbehind. But when he lifted her from the parapet back to safety, she criedout as one whom fear catches by the throat, and fainted in his arms.

  * * * * *

  Out of a great darkness, the light dawned again for Toby. She opened hereyes gasping to find that the scene had changed. She was lying upontiger-skins in Saltash's conical chamber, and he, the king of all herdreams, was kneeling by her side.

  That was the first thing that occurred to her--that he should kneel.

  "Oh, don't! Oh, don't!" she said quickly. "I am not--not Maud."

  He regarded her humorously, but the old derisive lines were wholly gonefrom his dark face. His eyes held something that was unfamiliar,something that made her quiver with a quick agitation that was notdistress.

  "So I am only allowed to kneel to Maud!" he said.

  She tried to meet his look and, failing, hid her face. "I--I knowyou have always loved her," she murmured rather incoherently. "Youcouldn't--you couldn't--pretend to--to--to really love anyoneelse--after Maud!"

  There fell a brief silence, and she thought the beating of her heartwould choke her. Then there came the touch of his hand upon her head, andits wild throbbing grew calmer.

  "No," he said, and in his voice was a new deep note unknown to her. "I amnot pretending, Nonette."

  The light touch drew her as it were magnetically. With a swift, impulsivemovement she raised herself, gave herself to him, hiding her face stillmore deeply against his breast.

  "But you--you--you couldn't really love me!" she whispered like anincredulous child. "You sure you do?"

  His arms went round her, holding her fast. He made no other answer.Saltash, the glib of tongue and ready of gibe, was for once speechless inthe presence of that which has no words.

  She nestled closer to him as a little furry animal that has found itshome. Her incredulity was gone, but she kept her face hidden. "But whydidn't you tell me before?" she said.

  He bent his black head till his lips reached and rested against her hair."Nonette," he said, "you told me that I had made you believe in God."

  "Yes?" she whispered back rather breathlessly. "Yes?"

  "That's why," he said. "You got me clean through my armour there. Egad,it made me a believer too. If I'd failed you after that--well, He'd havebeen justified in damning me, body and soul!"

  "But you couldn't!" she protested. "You couldn't fail me!"

  His dark face twisted with the old wry grimace. "I've failed a good manyin my time, Nonette. But--no one ever trusted me to that extent. Youpractically forced me--to prove myself."

  A little gasp of relief came from Toby. She spoke with more assurance."Oh, was that it? You were just trying--to be good?"

  "Just--trying!" said Saltash.

  "You still trying?" asked Toby, a little curious note of laughter in hervoice.

  "I shan't keep on much longer," he returned, "unless I get what I want."

  "There'd be a blue moon if you did!" remarked Toby impudently.

  Saltash raised his head abruptly. "By Jupiter! There is one!" he said."Let's go to her!"

  Toby's face shot upwards in a moment. "Where?"

  Her eyes sought the skylight above them and the dim mysterious blue ofthe night. His came down to her in a flash, dwelt upon her, caressed her,drew her.

  She turned sharply and looked at him. "Charles Rex!" she saidreproachfully.

  He took her pointed chin and laughed down at her. His eyes, one black,one grey, shone with a great tenderness, holding hers till they widenedand shone back with a quick blue flame in answer.

  Then: "As I was saying," remarked Charles Rex royally "when I wasinterrupted some six months ago--I have never yet refused--a gift fromthe gods."

  "But you've taken your time over accepting it, haven't you?" said Toby,with a chuckle.

  He bent to her. "Let's go!" he said again.

  THE END