Greatheart

by Ethel M. Dell

  CHAPTER XII

  THE DIVINE SPARK

  With the morning Dinah found her anxieties less oppressive. Isabel wasbecoming so much more like herself that she was able to put the matterfrom her and in a measure forget it. Like Biddy, she began to hope thatby postponing the evil hour they might possibly evade it altogether. Forthere was nothing abnormal about Isabel during that day or those thatsucceeded it. The time passed quickly. There was much to be done, muchto be discussed and decided, and their thoughts were fully occupied.Dinah felt as one whirled in a torrent. She could not think of the greatundercurrent. She could deal only with the things on the surface.

  How that week sped away she never afterwards fully recalled. It passedlike a fevered dream. Two more journeys to town with Isabel, the ordealof a dinner at the house of a neighbouring magnate, a much lessformidable tea at the Vicarage, on which occasion Mr. Grey drew her asideand thanked her for using her influence over Sir Eustace in the rightdirection and earnestly exhorted her to maintain and develop it as far aspossible when she was married, a few riding-lessons with Scott who alwaysseemed so much more imposing in the saddle than out of it and knew soexactly how to instruct her, a few wild races in Sir Eustace's car fromwhich she always returned in a state of almost delirious exultation, andthen night after night the sleep of utter weariness, with Isabel lying byher side.

  The last night came upon her almost with a sense of shock. It had becomea custom for her to sit in the conservatory with Sir Eustace afterdinner, and here with the lights turned low he was wont to pour out toher all the fiery worship which throughout the day he curbed. No one everdisturbed them, but they were close to Isabel's sitting-room where Scottwas wont to sit and read while his sister lay on her couch resting andlistening. The murmur of his voice was audible to Dinah, and theknowledge of his close proximity gave her a courage which surely had notbeen hers otherwise. She was learning how to receive her lover'sdemonstrations without starting away in affright. If he ever startledher, the sound of Scott's voice in the adjoining room would alwaysreassure her. She knew that Scott was at hand and would never fail her.

  But on that last night Sir Eustace was more ardent than she had everknown him. He seemed to be almost fiercely resentful of the comingseparation, brief though it was to be, and he would not suffer her out ofreach of his hand.

  Wedding presents had begun to arrive, and in some fashion they seemed toincrease his impatience.

  "I can't think what we are waiting for," he said, with his arm about her,drawing her close. "All this pomp and circumstance is nothing but ahindrance. It's you I want, not your wedding finery. You had better bemarried first and get the finery afterwards, as it isn't to be in town."

  "Oh, but I want a big wedding," protested Dinah. "It's going to be suchfun."

  He laughed, holding her pointed chin between his finger and thumb. "Ibelieve that's all you care about, you little heartless witch. I don'tcount at all. You'd have enjoyed this week every bit as well if I hadn'tbeen here."

  She winced a little at his words, for somehow they went home. "Therehasn't been much time for anything, has there?" she said. "But--but I'veenjoyed the motor rides, and--and I ought to thank you for being so verygood to me."

  He kissed the quivering lips, and she slipped a shy arm round his neckwith the feeling that she owed it to him. But she did not return hiskisses, for she was afraid to feed the flame that already leapt so high.

  "You've nothing to thank me for," he said presently, when she turned herface at last abashed into his shoulder. "I may be giving more than you atthis stage, but it won't be so later. You shall have the opportunity ofpaying me back in full. How does that appeal to you, Daphne the demure?Are you going to be a good little wife to me?"

  "I'll try," she whispered.

  "And give me all I ask--always?"

  "I'll try," she whispered again more faintly, conscious of thatterrifying sense of being so merged into his overwhelming personalitythat the very breath she drew seemed not her own.

  He lifted her into his arms, holding her hard pressed against thethrobbing of his heart. "You wisp of thistledown!" he said. "You feather!How have you managed to set me on fire like this? I think of nothing butyou--the fairy wonder of you--day and night. If you were to slip out ofmy reach now, I believe I should follow and kill you."

  Dinah lay across his breast in palpitating submission to his will. Shecould hear his heart beating like a rising tempest, and the force of hispassion overcame her like a tornado. His kisses were like the flames of afiery furnace. She felt stifled, shattered by his violence. But in theroom beyond she still heard that steady voice reading aloud, and it kepther from panic. She knew that she had only to raise her own voice, and hewould be with her,--Greatheart of the golden armour, strong and fearlessin her defence.

  Sir Eustace heard that quiet voice also, as one hears the warning ofconscience. He slackened his hold upon her, with a quivering, half-shamedlaugh.

  "Only another fortnight," he said, "and I shall have you to myself--allday and all night too." He looked at her with sudden critical attention."You had better go to bed, child. You look like a little tired ghost."

  She did not feel like a ghost, for she was burning from head to foot. Butas she slipped from his arms the ground seemed to be rocking all aroundher. She stretched out her hands blindly, gasping, feeling for support.

  He was up in a moment, holding her. "What is it? Aren't you well?"

  She sank against him for she could not stand. He held her with atenderness that was new to her.

  "My darling, have I tired you out? What a thoughtless brute I am!"

  It was the first time she had ever heard a word of self-reproach upon hislips; the first time, though she knew it not, that actual love inspiredhim, entering as it were through that breach in the wall of overbearingpride that girt him round.

  She leaned against him with more confidence than she had ever beforeknown, dizzy still, and conscious of a rush of tears behind her closedlids. For that sudden compunction of his hurt her oddly. She did not knowhow to meet it.

  He bent over her. "Getting better, little sweetheart? Oh, don't cry! Whathappened? Did I hurt you--frighten you?"

  He was stroking her hair soothingly, persuasively, his dark face so closeto hers that when she opened her eyes they looked up straight into his.But she saw nought to frighten her there, and after a moment she reachedup and kissed him apologetically.

  "I'm only silly--only silly," she murmured confusedly. "Good night--goodnight--Apollo!"

  And with the words she stood up, summoning her strength, smiled upon him,and slipped free from his encircling arm.

  He did not seek to detain her. She flitted from his presence like afluttering white moth, and he was left alone. He stood quite motionlessin the semi-darkness, breathing deeply, his clenched hands pressedagainst his sides.

  That moment had been a revelation to him also. He was abruptly consciousof the spirit so dominating the body that the fierce, ungoverned heart ofhim drew back ashamed as a beast will shrink from the flare of a torch,and he felt strangely conquered, almost cowed, as though an angel with aflaming sword had suddenly intervened between him and his desire.

  The madness of his passion was yet beating in his veins, but this--thiswas another and a stronger element before which all else becamecontemptible. The soul of the man had sprung from sleep like an awakinggiant. Half in wonder and half in awe, he watched the kindling of theDivine Spark that outshineth every earthly fire.