The Nest of the Sparrowhawk: A Romance of the XVIIth Century
Page 29
CHAPTER XXIX
GOOD-BYE
"Sue!"
The cry rang out in the night close to her, and arrested her fleeingfootsteps. She was close to the ha-ha, having run on blindly, madly,guided by that unaccountable instinct which makes for the shelter ofhome.
In a moment she had recognized the voice. In a moment she was beside herfriend. Her passionate mood passed away, leaving her calm and almost atpeace. Shame still caused her cheeks to burn, but the night was dark anddoubtless he would not see.
But she could feel that he was near her, therefore, there was no fear inher. What had guided her footsteps hither she did not know. Of course hehad guessed that she had been to meet her husband.
There were no exclamations or protestations between them. She merelysaid quite simply:
"I am glad that you came to say 'good-bye!'"
The park was open here. The nearest trees were some fifty paces away,and in the ghostly darkness they could just perceive one another'ssilhouettes. The mist enveloped them as with a shroud, the damp cold aircaused them to shiver as under the embrace of death.
"It is good-bye," he rejoined calmly.
"Mayhap that I shall go abroad soon," she said.
"With that man?"
The cry broke out from the bitterness of his heart, but a cold littlehand was placed restrainingly on his.
"When I go ... if I go," she murmured, "I shall do so with myhusband.... You see, my friend, do you not, that there is naught else tosay but 'good-bye'?"
"And you will be happy, Sue?" he asked.
"I hope so!" she sighed wistfully.
"You will always remember, will you not, my dear lady, that wherever youmay be, there is always someone in remote Thanet, who is ready at anytime to give his life for you?"
"Yes! I will remember," she said simply.
"And you must promise me," he insisted, "promise me now, Sue, that if... which Heaven forbid ... you are in any trouble or sorrow, and I cando aught for you, that you will let me know and send for me ... and Iwill come."
"Yes, Richard, I promise.... Good-bye."
And she was gone. The mist, the gloom hid her completely from view. Hewaited by the little bridge, for the night was still and he would haveheard if she called.
He heard her light footsteps on the gravel, then on the flagged walk.Anon came the sound of the opening and shutting of a door. After that,silence: the silence of a winter's night, when not a breath of windstirs the dead branches of the trees, when woodland and field and parkare wrapped in the shroud of the mist.
Richard Lambert turned back towards the village.
Sue--married to another man--had passed out of his life forever.