Miss Fairfax of Virginia: A Romance of Love and Adventure Under the Palmettos

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER IX.

  DOWN THE IRISH COAST.

  When Roderic Owen saw the look of deep concern on his cousin's facegive way to a radiant expression as he entered the door of the hotel,his heart reproached him.

  Here he had been actually reveling in the realms of bliss for the lastthree hours or more, while Cleo, judging from her appearance, had been"plunged in a gulf of dark despair," or at least considerably worriedover the fact of his singular disappearance.

  It was really too bad.

  Her faithful heart had yearned after him, just as a loving sister'smight for the absent one--the two girls were so entirely unlike inlooks and temperament that it never occurred to him to compare Cleo'saffection with that of Georgia--and yet it was of the kind that laststhrough life.

  Feeling that somehow he had caused Cleo considerable anxiety, and beingconscience stricken on account of his own present happiness, Rodericadvanced hastily to ascend the broad stairs and meet her on the landingabove.

  "You were worried about me, dear cousin?"

  "Naturally so--all day you have been away--and to-morrow wesail--unless something important has happened, to alter your plans,"she replied, her face flushing at the eager manner in which he caughther hand.

  "Something important _has_ happened, but it will not delay our leavingDublin to-morrow," he replied, mentally deciding that the time had comefor him to confide his secret to this tender heart.

  If it brought pain, God forgive him, since he was unwittingly thecause, but sooner or later Cleo must learn the truth, and the occasionseemed to demand that he speak now.

  They were alone, but it was very public--perhaps a quiet nook in one ofthe small parlors would suit better for a confessional.

  "Come with me, dear cousin--I have much to tell you--much that concernsmy past and promises to control my future," he said, earnestly.

  "Ah," thought Cleo, as she followed his eager steps, "it is coming--hehas seen her again, this Georgia whom he knew and loved in San Juan. Imust crush down my own feelings in the matter and appear just what hebelieves me--an affectionate comrade, a loving sister."

  That was a heroine for you--it is not given of all women to be Joan ofArcs, but occasion may arise in any life calling for as much determinedspirit and heroism as the noble Maid of Orleans ever boasted.

  The bijou parlor was entirely deserted, though still lighted, and overin a cozy corner where a pile of cushions invited Oriental comfort theysettled down for a little private talk.

  Some men would have opened up in an evasive manner and told as littleas necessity demanded.

  Not so Roderic Owen.

  When a task was set before him, no matter how unpleasant orembarrassing, his method was to plunge squarely into it, neithersparing himself nor seeking glory from the recital.

  So he told how he had met the lovely belle of the Porto Ricocapital--the strange and romantic manner in which Providence seemedto delight in throwing them together, and how he was enabled to saveher great inconvenience, if not her life--of the mutual attachmentthat naturally sprang up between them that rapidly ripened into apassion--of their engagement and the glorious weeks succeeding, whenthey lived in Paradise.

  Then came the serpent in Eden--coquetry on the girl's part, rankjealousy on his, without just cause it had proved.

  After that, hot words, violent separation--the old, old story ofwounded hearts, so many times repeated in the history of the world--oftwo souls intended for each other, wandering about the earth estranged,because of hasty temper.

  To all of this Cleo listened with deepest sympathy marked upon her face.

  What pain her heart experienced would never be known to the world, forshe crushed this down with a resolute hand.

  Woman was created to withstand most of the suffering in thisworld--Providence endowed her with a larger capacity for such endurancethan man; just as the lord of creation was given the spirit of thechase, of battle, and as the bread-winner in life's strife.

  Finally Roderic brought the story to Dublin and told how Georgiadisguised as a Sister of the Holy Grail, warned him, though so well hadshe concealed her identity that he had not guessed it until after shehad gone.

  This brought him down to the time he was passing on the Rathmine car,and had a glimpse of the girl he loved in the window of the quaint EastIndia bungalow.

  He was a good story teller, and the subject one in which his wholeheart was engaged, so that he quickly held the girl spell-bound as hedescribed how the reconciliation was brought about.

  When he finally told how Georgia allowed him to take her in his arms,Cleo smiled to hide the aching heart she carried, and which she fearedmight betray its pain upon her face.

  Of course she thought that was the end.

  "You love her with a deathless devotion, cousin--she has become a _sinequa non_ to your existence?" she remarked, to hide her little tremor,her pallor and any confusion that might appear.

  "She is the life of my life--I had gone to the point of being an oldbachelor, cousin, without ever falling in love--indeed, I had begun todoubt seriously whether my nature was capable of any passion, for mydevotion to your cousinly self had been the only affection I had everknown--when she crossed my path like a brilliant meteor and from thatday to this I have not known the old peace. Yes, I love her with heartand soul--as you say it truly seems as though this dark-eyed girl hadbecome an indispensable condition to my existence. I tell you thisknowing how much you care for my happiness--how you sympathize with mygriefs and rejoice when prosperity finds me."

  Perhaps it was cruel to say this, but remember that Owen found italmost impossible to believe Cleo entertained a passion for him beyondthat calm, cousinly affection.

  Besides, it was a part of his religion that heroic treatment was alwaysbest.

  If he had an unpleasant duty to perform the sooner it was done thebetter for his peace of mind.

  "You say this happened at about dusk?" she asked.

  "Yes, I was hurrying to the hotel to dress so that I might eat dinnerwith you."

  "Possibly at seven," with an arch glance in the direction of a littleormolu clock upon the mantel, that was merrily ticking away the minutes.

  Roderic laughed in some confusion.

  "Pray, do not imagine I forgot the lapse of time, since it is now aftereleven. Truth to tell I have been a prisoner all this time--not acaptive held by Love's silken strands as you suspect."

  "A prisoner--oh! Roderic, then that reconciliation was not the end?"she exclaimed, remembering that his appearance was hardly that of agentleman who exhibited as a usual thing some fastidiousness in hisdress.

  "Rather it was but the beginning, for at that very moment the gruff oldgeneral, her uncle, rushed like a whirlwind into the house, bellowingfor a chance to annihilate the Yankee spy whom one of his boldcolleagues had seen enter."

  "That was exciting enough--I am quite anxious to see that odd oldsoldier of whom you have spoken so much. But go on--he recognized you?"

  "Not at all--the dim light and his passion blinded eyes prevented that.At once he demanded that I take my choice of the various swords on thewall and give him an opportunity to wipe out the insult my presence putupon his dwelling."

  "What a ferocious old firebrand he must be. And did she notexplain--you said she had usually such power over this uncle?"

  "He would not let her say anything, but, wild with anger brushedGeorgia aside and swore as only a furious Spaniard could, that unlessI at once accepted his benevolent offer of a fair chance to defendmyself, he would lay the flat of his sword on me, and use his boot inejecting me from the premises."

  "The old brute--and of course after that, Cousin Roderic, you had tofight?"

  "There was no other way of escaping the dilemma. So I snatched a swordfrom the wall and met his attack. Well, we had quite a lively passageat arms for some minutes. As I had fenced with the old governor oftenbefore I knew he was behind the times. Georgia had fled from the roomto hunt a lamp. Just as she returned fortune all
owed me to disarm thegeneral."

  "Ah! yes, it is always fortune and good luck when you manage tosucceed, cousin mine," she exclaimed with some heat, "but I know whatskill you possess with a sword--I have my own opinion on that score.But go on--Georgia returned with a light at this most interestingjuncture?"

  "And the general recognized me--he was almost paralyzed, and was readyto forgive my miserable treatment of his niece when he learned that shehad done so. Unfortunately his friends rushed in at this juncture, andtaking me unawares made me a prisoner."

  "Not before one or more had suffered at your hands, I warrant," sheasserted, stoutly, for since Roderic would not sound his own trumpet itwas necessary that some one else blow it for him.

  Ah! the man who has such a faithful heart looking after his interestsis blest indeed.

  "Well, I must confess I did not inflict much punishment upon thembecause they hung on like so many leeches, quite overpowering me.Besides, I knew they would hardly dare do me any bodily harm."

  Then he told what followed, and how they put him in the cellar to cliphis wings, as they said.

  Finally came the last scene in the drama where the door opened and hehad Georgia in his arms again.

  Roderic made little of this, for the conviction was now forcing itselfupon even his dull masculine mind that such tender scenes might not bein the best taste possible, considering the circumstances.

  "And thus you see me on deck once more, a little the worse for wearperhaps, but ready to sail with you to-morrow, if you say the word," heended.

  "You are happy, Roderic?"

  "Yes, God has been very, very good to me. I don't deserve it, cousin."

  "You look forward to meeting Georgia in the island beyond the sea?"

  "She has already started there, and it would be strange if we did notmeet, either before or after San Juan falls into American hands."

  "Is she--_very_ beautiful, Roderic?"

  "You shall say for yourself when you see her, for it is my fondest hopethat you may be the dearest of friends. You will promise me that, Cleo?"

  Again she resolutely thrust self aside.

  "Whom you love must be a sister to me, cousin. Yes, I give you such apromise willingly."

  The rebellion in her heart was kept down with a firm hand--what washuman might struggle and cry out, but it could not overcome the divineelement that came from Calvary--the desire to sacrifice self for thegood of one beloved.

  Then they fell to talking of the contemplated ocean voyage and whatpleasures it promised to souls that delighted in travel, and for whichthe ever changing boundless deep had charms that were invisible to theeye of the ordinary tourist.

  Finally Roderic realized the lateness of the hour, and declaredhe ought to be ashamed to keep his cousin from her beauty sleep,especially as it was all on account of his own personal business.

  Possibly Roderic slept but little that night.

  He had much upon his mind.

  And yet he was far happier than the girl from Virginia, since there wasa bright future to which he could look forward.

  With her that future was a blank.

  Many there are fated in this world to love without hope of a reciprocalaffection, but few can bear their cross with the gentle happy spiritshown by Cleo.

  When they met again at an early breakfast, while old Dublin was wakingup, no one would suspect from her smiling face and dancing blue eyesthat Cleo had ever known a serious sorrow, or that a canker lodgedclose to her gentle heart.

  She took the deepest interest in all the contemplated movements of hercousin, and entered into the enthusiasm of his plans as though she hada reason to share in his future happiness.

  Matters had been so carefully adjusted on the preceding day that littleremained to be done save have their portable luggage taken down to thelanding stage, and go through with a few forms necessary ere the steamyacht could depart.

  Though Roderic was not sorry to leave Dublin, under the circumstances,he must always cherish a pleasant recollection for the bright Irishcapital.

  It was here the incubus that had pressed upon his shoulders for wellnigh two years had been cast aside, and the sun of hope burst frombehind the clouds of despair.

  Yes, the name of Dublin would ever be associated with pleasantmemories, for the little encounter with Don Porfidio was but a romance;while his capture and imprisonment by the Spanish clique had only beenthe means of bringing his beloved sweetheart again to his arms, and hecould not harbor ill feelings against any cause that had brought aboutsuch an effect.

  By ten o'clock they were on board the yacht.

  Roderic could not help casting many eager glances around at the variousvessels lying at anchor in Kingstown harbor.

  He was thinking of the Sterling Castle.

  Already he had made inquiries concerning the steamer, and knew herbuild.

  There were several marked peculiarities about her style, the paintingof her funnel and other things that would stamp her individuality,so that he was able to declare after searching the harbor, that theimpudent little blockade runner was not present.

  Then she had about twelve hours the start and was doubtless far downthe Irish coast.

  The anchor was weighed with the usual cheery English chorus, and asthe steam yacht headed into Dublin bay, Roderic, looking back to thebeautiful city thus left behind, could not but be impressed.

  It was a glorious summer day and the sight an inspiring one, forKingstown harbor at this season of the year is usually thronged withpleasure craft as well as those of business.

  Going out they passed the Holyhead steamer just entering.

  Roderic could not but reflect with deep satisfaction what a greatchange had taken place in his own life since he trod the hurricane deckof that same steamer a short time before.

  Truly events follow each other in rapid succession in some lives.

  Providence seemed to be in an especially favoring mood with regard tohis fortunes just at present.

  If it would only continue.

  He knew not what the future held--perhaps, could he have lifted theveil and obtained a glimpse of what adventures and perils lay in hispath, the prospect might have appalled even his stout heart.

  How mercifully the future is screened from our inquisitive eyes--couldwe but _know_, how idle would our struggles seem, and despair mustoften cause us to cease the hopeless contest.

  It is this element of uncertainty that keeps hope alive in our hearts,and many times wrings victory from seeming defeat.

  As they passed down the far famed Irish sea the tops of the green hillscould always be seen above the haze that sometimes hid their base andthe fishing villages nestling there from view.

  Roderic spent much time in leaning over the rail and watching thiseverchanging panorama, while smoking his pipe--for Cleo had made itdistinctly understood that she was very fond of tobacco smoke in theopen air, and that he was at liberty to indulge when and where hechose; a privilege that caused Miss Becky to lift her eyes in horror,for she had a special aversion to this self same odor.

  However, she never found Roderic other than a gentleman, and he wouldalways move his seat in order that the fragrant smoke might not blowacross her sacred person, so that in this way he made a firm friend ofthe old maid.

  When nightfall came they took their last look at old Ireland's greenhills, for unless all calculations failed they would be out on thebroad Atlantic by daylight, headed for the West Indies.

  Roderic had by this time thrown off the reserve that weighed down hisspirits at first and become his own sociable self, ready to enter intoany game that promised relaxation and sport.

  The shore line faded as the glow left the western sky, and presentlyonly lights upon the hills told how near they were to the Irish coast.

  Thus the voyage was begun, that would bring much of success or griefto his fortunes--before him like a will-o'-the-wisp flitted theblockade runner, having on board the beautiful maid of San Juan--andthe game was transferred from t
he Old to the New World.