CHAPTER XXIX
BRAMFORTH AGAIN
Some time later Olwen sat down by the roadside upon a very wet treetrunk, and wondered if she could get any farther.
Things might have been worse, for the rain had ceased at dawn and theweather was not so very cold. But her head ached excruciatingly, andshe was conscious at the moment of hardly any desire, except to findherself back in her room in the Pele with Sunia in attendance.
A winter's morning and an empty stomach, taken together, do not make forheroism. She was wondering vaguely why she had acted thus--what hadinduced her to pass the night in such an ill-regulated fashion, and whatshe should say to the Vicarage circle at Bramforth when she got there.
The sound of an approaching motor upon the road gave her a faint hope ofa lift. It caused her no apprehension, for she was not aware that thecar which Wolf had chartered had been hired for the time of his stay andwas stabled at the Pele. According to her calculation, there was notyet time for any pursuit to catch up with her even if they knew whichway she had gone. Thus, as the car swung round the corner, she had noforeboding, and she stood up by the roadside, her arm outstretched toattract the attention of the occupants. But for this they might havepassed her without notice, for they were travelling fast, and daylightwas not fully come.
There was an exclamation, a sudden jamming on of brakes, they drew to astandstill, and she found herself caught. Both the Guyse twins had comein search of her. Ninian was driving, Wilfrid beside him.
In a moment the whole frame of Olwen's mind changed. The weakness of herspirit passed. She was almost free, and they had pursued.
_They did not mean her to escape_.
In her terror and distress, a cry broke from her. She held up herhands, like one at bay, and her voice was strangled as it is innightmare as she gasped:
"Go away! Go away! I will not come with you!"
Wolf was at her side. He held his cap in his hand, and his expressionwas that of pitying kindness.
"Thank God we have found you!" he said. "What can have happened? Didyou walk out of the house in your sleep?"
She put up her hands to her throat as if she were choking. "No! no! Ihave escaped," she panted. "I will not go back, I tell you! I will notgo back!"
"Oh, but I think you must," was the gentle, regretful answer. "Youcould not be so unkind as to cast this slur upon our hospitality? Weknow that there have been difficulties, but I do most earnestly assureyou that my mother has always wanted to do her very best to make youhappy and comfortable. Surely--surely things were not so bad yesterdaythat nothing would do but a midnight flight? Come, come!" He took herhelpless hands. "Try to quiet yourself. Try to reflect. You arefeverish and overwrought--not fit to travel. Let me----"
He was drawing her gently towards the car where it waited. Ninian hadkept his seat at the driving-wheel, his face hard set, looking straightin front of him as though he had turned into a chauffeur.
In her extremity, resisting the compulsion of Wilfrid's hands, theunspoken reproof of his eyes, she appealed passionately to the eldertwin. "Ninian," she cried, "help me! Don't let me be taken back! Iwon't go back! I can't! ... You know I can't!"
Ninian flung himself into the road and approached.
"Why," Wolf was saying, half playfully, "if Ninian knows why you cannotstay with us another hour, he knows more than I do. Come, come, whenthe doctor has been and your temperature goes down, you will be gratefulto us for having saved you from the consequences of a little temporarydelirium--indeed you will!"
Ninian spoke suddenly. "She isn't going back if she doesn't want to,"he announced.
"But, my dear chap, what can she do?" cried Wolf.
"What do you want to do?" asked Ninian, standing over her.
She lifted her white face to his. Her knees were shaking under her, shewas within an ace of sheer breakdown, but his unimpassioned coldnesssteadied her a little. "I want to go--home--to Bramforth!" she broughtout. "Oh, please, please!"
"Miss Innes, anybody would tell you that you are not fit for a long coldjourney," began Wolf, but Ninian pushed him aside.
"You really mean it?" he demanded of her. "You are determined not to goback to the Pele? You insist on leaving us?"
His voice sounded lifeless and weary.
"Yes, yes," she faltered, bringing out her handkerchief and wiping thetwo drops which had overflowed her eyelids and lay on her white cheeks."I must go. Can't you see I must?"
He stared along the dim road as though he stared into the future.
"This is the end then?"
She assented dumbly.
"All right. I'll take you to Raefell and see you into the train.There's a through carriage on the 8.20, and you can get to Newcastlewithout changing." He turned to open the door of the car, adding, asshe hesitated, "You can't trust me even to do this?"
She yielded at that touch. She was wax in his hands. If he had caughther up in his arms, told her not to be silly, but to come back with him,she would have done it. Perhaps Wolf saw, and it may have been thereason why his fine lip curled as he looked at his brother rathercontemptuously.
Miss Innes got into the car obediently. Ninian opened a bag which stoodon the seat, and produced a thermos and a package of sandwiches. Hepoured out hot coffee and made her drink it. Then, wrapping the furcarriage rug warmly about her, he shut her in, took his place, with Wolfbeside him, and they made best pace for Raefell.
She hardly knew what were her thoughts as they sped on. Probably shedid not wholly trust Ninian, and was watchful to see whether he reallywould do as he promised. When they arrived in the pretty village, setamong woods sloping to the river, they stopped before the inn, and Wolfdismounted, as it seemed to her, unwillingly.
"I will leave my brother to see you into the train," he said, coming tothe window. "Good-bye. I am regretting every minute that your visitshould have such a termination. It was doing my mother no end of good.Don't you think, even now----"
Nin started the motor, and he was obliged to stand back.
They crossed the river, and doubled back to the station on the furtherside. There was not much time to spare. Ninian opened the door andhelped her out, with her handbag, leaving her a minute in thewaiting-room while he went to get her ticket. The train drew in to thestation as he returned. He put her into a first-class carriage, andcovered her knees with the fur rug from the car. She began to object,both to the class and to the loan of the rug.
"You can send it back by post," he replied, tucking it about her."There is your ticket. You have an hour at Newcastle, plenty of timefor a good lunch. You are due at Bramforth at a quarter to three.Good-bye!"
"Good-bye!" The rush of feeling was overpowering. This was the end, andby her own act, her own wish! All the fervent life, the keen emotion ofthe last few weeks was over, and there was nothing to be said--nothing!She joined her hands, as if to hold herself back from stretching themout to him. For a moment her tear-dimmed eyes caught a green ray fromhis. "I leave you as I came," cried she with a gulp, "a little bluething with a red nose!"
He nodded, speechless, and, to her mortification, shut the door upon herand departed there and then, though it was a long minute after beforethe train began to move. She gazed from the closed window upon thewaiting car, but could not see its driver. He had not remained for somuch as a parting glance.
With all her heart she then wished that she had consented to let him doas he asked, and "make a clean breast of it."
For some miles her mind held but one idea. There was a place on theline where, upon looking from the window of the train, one could seeGuysewyke Pele square against the sky-line. Upon catching this lastglimpse she set her whole attention. In vain. The mist was too thick.No distances were visible. She began to cry then, miserably andpersistently. It was over. She was going back. It was an ignominiousreturn. Had she felt less ill it is possible that she might, when shereached
Newcastle, have taken a train for Liverpool instead ofBramforth. She dare not, however, risk such a proceeding to-day.
With her own hand she had pushed away a temptation whose strengthappalled her. She had done her duty, but the thought brought no drop ofconsolation. She felt as if her very heart had been torn out of her andas though the gaping wound so left would never heal.
At Newcastle she was much too depressed to go to the restaurant, and shecrept into the ladies' waiting-room, where she nursed her grief in acorner. Presently a boy came in, carrying a tea-basket. "Lady in hereordered a tea-basket?" he piped. All the dismal occupants of the placeshook their heads. He advanced, doubtfully.
"Well, that's funny. I've been all over the station. It was a ladywith a grey coat and veil," he went on, placing himself before Olwen.
"I did not order it, but I shall be very glad to take it," she replied.It was a fortunate blunder for her, as the hot tea was just what sheneeded; her thoughts winced away from the idea of dinner. This seemedan extra nice tea, with buttered toast and brown bread and butter.
As she emerged from the waiting room, a polite porter just outsiderelieved her of her bag and rug, putting her into a comfortablecompartment, with a label "Ladies only" on the window.
Her night of wandering had tired her so much that, being able to liedown, she presently dropped asleep and forgot her misery for a time.
As she neared her journey's end, she reflected with vexation that shemight have sent a telegram from Newcastle to tell the Vicarage to expecther. Even an obvious precaution such as this had not once occurred to amind entirely preoccupied with its own distress.
However, when the train at last drew in to the dirty, noisy, clamorousplatform, she had hardly opened the door of her compartment before shedescried Aunt Maud's yellow mackintosh.
She almost fell into her aunt's hungry arms. "Oh!" she cried, "how didyou happen to be here?"
"Why, I came to meet you, of course. You telegraphed this morning."
"Oh--did they?--that was kind," said the girl falteringly. "I--Ithought I had better come home. I was ill. They didn't want me totravel, and I expect they were right, for I--I've left all my luggagebehind."
Her aunt was looking at her with much concern and some consternation.She suggested an immediate visit to the lost property office, but Olwensaid that she had seen to that--her things would be sent on.
"I'm afraid we must drive," she faltered, "I feel too crocky to walk. Ican afford it, for they paid my railway fare."
They found a taxi and got in, Miss Wilson full of anxiety to hear fullerdetails of the circumstances, and her niece realising (and wondering whyshe had not sooner done so) that it was wholly out of the question forher to reveal what had actually happened.
"The doctor was taken ill," she explained slowly, "and he said it wouldbe a long business; and I was at the top of the tower, having to bewaited upon. I did not like to feel that I was being a trouble."
As she spoke, they were passing, having been held up by the stream oftraffic, out into the main road from the station approach. Her eyes,fixed vaguely upon the passing show, suddenly dilated. A tall man,coming from the station, had just gained the island in the centre of thethoroughfare, and was detained by the passage of a huge motor lorry frommoving on immediately. He had his back to her, but had she not knownthe figure, the clothes were familiar to her. It was Ninian Guyse.
An instant and the fast-running taxi had carried them away.
"This sumptuous fur rug," Aunt Maud was saying. "It will cost somethingto send back!"
She did not notice the sudden pallor, the stifled silence of her niece;or, if she did, ascribed it to exhaustion. Olwen's emotions wereturbulent. Ninian must have come in her train all the way. It was tohim, doubtless, that she owed the persistence of the boy with thesuper-tea-basket; also the courtesy of the porter. During those hoursof anguish, when she had been imagining them parted for ever, he hadactually been within a few yards of her--perhaps in the nextcompartment!
The force of the shock of joy was enough to show her her own heart. Shecould hardly say a word for some minutes.
Miss Wilson gathered the impression that Olwen was more ill than she waswilling to admit. She thought the best thing to do was to put her tobed at once, and leave her unquestioned until she had had a long rest.On receipt of the telegram, her room had been prepared by her aunt's ownhands before she set out for the station. Olwen was very grateful.
Aunt Ada, no less than Aunt Maud, was quite evidently glad to see her onany terms, although she detected behind their affection a jealous hopethat their darling had not been a failure--that she was not in any senseof the word coming home in disgrace.
She could hardly give as emphatic a denial to the suspicion as she couldhave wished, for she dreaded very much what Madam might say should shetake it into her head to write to her grandfather.
She remembered the threat held over her, and knew that her flight wouldcause deep displeasure. It seemed almost certain that Mrs. Guyse wouldindulge her anger to the extent of a severe letter.
... But Ninian was in Bramforth! ...
Nothing could take from the joy of that. For what had he come?
The answer which her heart returned was that he had come to make to her,under the shelter of her home roof, the confession which he had not beenable to make at the Pele.
Her bedroom was very cold, and her bed very hard. She thought of Suniawith a yearning which made her wonder whether she had been induced bythe ayah to swallow some nostrum, unawares, which should produce acutecraving for the Pele the moment she left it.
She fought, however, with such thoughts. She must pull herselftogether, rest, be ready for the morrow. He would know her to be tootired to-day for him to venture upon a call.
She passed, however, a disturbed night, awakening with bad dreams everytime she went to sleep. They most kindly insisted upon bringing somebreakfast upstairs to her. After she had eaten it, she slipped out ofbed, and started to rummage among her things, to find a clean blousewhich she might put on.
Before she was dressed she heard the familiar click of the gate latch,and from behind her muslin blind saw Ninian stalking up the gravel path.
The door-bell pealed, and with a small giggle of delight she hugged thethought of keeping my lord waiting, chafing, cooling his heels in theugly, cold drawing-room.
He was shown in; of that she was certain. But no message came up toher. After waiting a while, during which she completed hertoilette--not without an ill-tempered struggle over the arrangement ofher hair to conceal the scar--she crept out upon the landing. The cookwas sweeping the hall, and a cautious signal brought her half-wayupstairs.
"Cook, is there a gentleman here?"
"Yes, miss," said the woman, who was a new arrival since Olwen'sdeparture.
"Did you let him in?"
"Yes, miss."
"For whom did he ask?"
"For the vicar, miss."
"For the vicar?"
"Yes, miss. He asked how you was, and I said you wasn't downstairs yet.Then he asked for the vicar, and they're talking together now, in thestudy."
Olwen crept back, shaking with anxiety. What was Ninian doing? Why didhe want to see her grandfather? Was he assuring him that she had leftwithout their desire? Was he giving that full account of theirnocturnal adventure on the Fell of which Madam had warned her? He wastaking time enough over it, anyway.
Restlessly she wandered about, up and down her room, every momentexpecting a summons, and every moment growing more excited, moreapprehensive. The hands of the old tin alarum clock upon hermantelpiece moved on; yet still the visitor was closeted with Mr.Wilson.
At last she heard a noise--the sound of an opening door. Softly shecrept to the balustrade, and saw the top of Nin's black head as he cameout into the hall. Her grandfather accompanied him to the entrance.There they shook hands. In a moment, as it seemed to her, the door hadopened and closed upon him. He was gone. He h
ad left the house withoutseeing her, without--or so she must suppose--even asking to see her.
Almost at once she told herself that he would return. He had been askedto lunch, doubtless--or he was coming back after dinner.... So far hadpride sunk that she wished she had been out in the hall to waylayhim--just to look into his face and judge what he was feeling.
Her grandfather stood in the empty hall, his hands clasped behind hisback, as if plunged in deepest thought At last he lifted his head.
"Cook! Is Miss Innes dressed?"
"Yes, sir, I believe she is."
"Kindly tell her that I wish to speak with her at once upon matters ofgrave importance."
The Lonely Stronghold Page 29