Big Game: A Story for Girls

by Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

  LOST ON THE MOOR.

  George Elgood's haste to reach the end of the moor gave wings to hisfeet, so that Margot had much ado to keep pace. Contrary toexpectation, the fog did not lessen as they advanced, but closed in uponthem thicker and thicker, so that the ground beneath their feet becameinvisible, and progress was broken by sundry trips and stumbles overprojecting mounds of heather. The air seemed to reek with moisture, anda deadly feeling of oppression, almost of suffocation, affected thelungs, as the curling wreath of mist closed overhead.

  Half an hour earlier Margot had felt that any sort of adventure (ifexperienced in George Elgood's company) must of necessity be enjoyable,but during that swift silent retreat she was conscious of a dawning ofsomething perilously like fear. Her breath came in quickened pants, shekept her eyes fixed in a straining eagerness on the tall figure loomingdarkly ahead. If she once lost sight of him, what would become of her?It made her shudder to think of being left alone upon that shroudedmoor!

  Every now and then as he walked, the Editor gave voice to a loud "coo-ee," in hope that the echoes might reach the ears of his brother andRonald, who should by now be approaching in the same direction; but noreply floated back to his anxious ears.

  "Perhaps they have gone round by the road," he suggested tentatively."If they were some time in following, they may have seen the fog, andcome to the conclusion that discretion was the better part of valour."

  "Ron wouldn't go another way if he thought I was in danger! He promisedfather to take care of me. I know he will come."

  "Then we are bound to meet; unless--" George Elgood stopped shorthurriedly. It was not for him to open his companion's eyes to the factthat the direction which they were taking had become a matter ofspeculation, as one after another the familiar landmarks faded fromview.

  The two brothers might pass by within a few yards, or their paths mightdiverge by miles, but in either case they would be equally invisible.The only hope was to go on sending out the familiar cry, which would atonce prove their identity. "Not that we should be any better off withthem than without!" he told himself dolefully.

  Margot did not ask for a completion of the unfinished sentence, perhapsbecause she guessed only too truly its import. A few steps farther onher foot came in contact with a stone hidden beneath a clump of furze;she stumbled, tried in vain to recover herself, and fell forward on herknees. The shock and the severe pricking which ensued forced a cry ofdismay, and the Editor turned back hurriedly, and uttered a startledinquiry.

  "Miss Vane, where are you?"

  "I'm here!" replied a doleful voice, and a dark form stirred at hisfeet. "I--_fell_! On a horrid bush! My hands are full of prickles."

  "I'll light a match while you get them out. It's my fault. I mighthave guessed what would happen. I'd like to kick myself for being sothoughtless."

  "Please don't! We don't want any more tribulations. I--I'm quite allright!" cried Margot, with tremulous bravery. The flicker of a matchshowed a pale face, and two little hands grimed with dust and earth.She brushed them hastily together, and peered up into his face. "It'spretty thick, isn't it?"

  "Abominably thick! I have heard of the sudden way in which thesemountain mists come on, but I've never been in one before. I could kickmyself once more for not having noticed it sooner. I suppose I was toomuch absorbed in our conversation."

  The match died out, and there was a moment's silence, in which Margotseemed to hear the beating of her own heart. Then in the darkness ahand lifted hers, and placed it against an arm which felt reassuringlysolid.

  "You must let me help you along. A moor is not the easiest place in theworld to cross in the dark. You won't mind my shouts? I want to letthe other fellows know where we are, if they are within hearing."

  "Oh, I don't mind. I'll shout, too! They must be near. It seemsridiculous that we can't see each other."

  But still no answering cry came back, and Margot's sense of comfort inthe supporting arm gradually gave place to a revival of her first dread.She shivered, and swallowed a lump in her throat before daring afateful question.

  "Mr Elgood, do you know--have you the faintest idea where we aregoing?"

  His arm tightened over her hand, but he made no attempt atprevarication.

  "No, I haven't! For the last five or ten minutes it has been purelyguess-work."

  "We may be going in the wrong direction, or round and round in acircle!"

  "We may--I am afraid it is more than probable. I have been thinkingthat it might be better to stay where we are. We can't have strayedvery far out of the course as yet, but--" Again he stopped, and thistime Margot completed the sentence.

  "I know! It's not safe to wander about when we can't see what is ahead.I've been thinking the same thing. We had better sit down and wait.They will come to look for us. I'm sure they will come, and there's acottage somewhere near, where we have been for milk. That's anotherchance. If we keep calling the people, they may hear us."

  "Oh yes, yes! Some one will hear, or the mist will rise as suddenly asit fell. It will be only for a short time," returned the Editorsturdily. "Now look here--the ground is soaking--you can't possibly siton it without something underneath. If you could spare your cape itwould serve us both as a rug, and I'm going to wrap you up in my coat."

  He loosened his arm, as if to take off the said coat forthwith, butMargot's fingers tightened their grasp in very determined fashion.

  "You are not! I won't wear it. I absolutely refuse to do any suchthing. How can you suggest such a horridly selfish arrangement--I towear your coat, while you sit shivering in shirt-sleeves? Never! I'drather freeze!"

  "Put it the other way. Am I, a man, to hug my coat, and let a girl siton the soaking grass? How do you suppose I should feel? I'd ratherfreeze, too!"

  Margot gave a quavering little laugh.

  "It seems to me we have a pretty good chance of doing it--coat or nocoat. If I am a girl, I'm a healthy one, and I must take my chance.Did you happen to put your newspaper in your pocket this morning? Thatwould be better than nothing."

  "Of course I did! That will do capitally. What a blessing you thoughtof it! There! Sit down quickly, and I'll pull a bit down under yourfeet. Can't I wrap that cape more tightly round you? And the hood?Hadn't you better have the hood up?"

  "Yes, please! I had forgotten the hood. That will be cosy!"

  Margot's cold cheeks flamed with sudden colour as she felt the touch ofcareful fingers settling the hood round head and face, and fumbling forthe hook under the chin. At that moment at least cold was not thepredominant sensation! There was a short silence while the Editorseated himself by her side, and felt in his pockets.

  "You won't mind if I smoke?"

  "I shall like it, especially if you have fusees. I love the smell offusees! You don't ask me to have a cigarette, I notice, and yet it isfashionable for girls to smoke nowadays. How did you know that Ididn't?"

  "I _did_ know! I can hardly tell why, but I am thankful for it, all thesame. I am too old-fashioned to care for smoking women. A girl losesher charm when she apes a man's habits."

  "Yes. I agree. I am sorry I am not a man, but as I'm a girl I preferto be a real one, and have my clothes smelling sweet and violety,instead of like a fusty railway carriage. But men seem to find smokesoothing at times. I wish I had a feminine equivalent of it just now.It's a little bit frightening to sit still and stare into this blankwhite wall. Couldn't you tell me something interesting to pass thetime?"

  "It's a little difficult to be `interesting' to order. What particularkind of narrative would distract you best?"

  "Oh--something about yourself. Something you have done, or felt, orplanned for another day. I'm so interested in people!" returned Margot,wrapping the folds of her cloak more closely round her, and slipping herhands deep down into the inside pockets. "Have you had any thrillingexperiences or adventures that you don't mind speaking about? The more
thrilling the better, please, for my feet _are_ so cold!"

  She shivered, in involuntary childish fashion, and George Elgood sighedprofoundly.

  "This is about the biggest adventure I've had. I was once snowed up fora night in a rest-house on one of the Swiss mountains, but we had everyordinary comfort, and knew exactly where we were, so that it didn'tamount to much, after all. I was going up with my guide, and metanother party of two brothers and a sister coming down, and we all tookshelter together, while one of the guides returned to the village, tolet the people in the hotel know of our safety. When the door was openthe prospect was sufficiently eerie, but we made a fire and brewed tea,and passed the time pleasantly enough. The worst part of it was that Ihad to give up the ascent next day, as there was too much snow to makeit prudent to go on."

  "Oh! Yes! Was she pretty?"

  She felt, rather than saw, his start of surprise.

  "Who?"

  "The sister. You said there was a girl in the other party."

  "I'm _sure_ I don't know! I didn't notice."

  "Don't you care how people look?"

  "It doesn't interest me, unless I am already attracted in other ways.At least--" he hesitated conscientiously. "I _used_ not to be. I thinkI am growing more noticing. Geoff always said I needed to be awakenedto the claims of beauty. I understand now that it may be a greatadditional charm."

  How did he understand? Who or what had increased his power ofobservation? Margot hoped that she knew; longed to be certain, yetdreaded the definite information. In a little flurry of nervousness shebegan to talk volubly on her own account, hoping thereby to ward offembarrassing explanations.

  "I seem fated to come in for adventures. I went over to Norway onesummer, and the engines broke down half-way across the North Sea, and atthe same time all the electric lights went out. It was terribly rough,and we rolled for a couple of hours--the longest hours I have everknown! The partitions of the cabins did not quite reach to the roof,and you could hear the different conversations going on all round. In adreary kind of way I realised that they were very funny, and that Ishould laugh over them another day. Quite near us were two jollyEnglish schoolboys, who kept ordering meals all the next day, andshouting out details to a poor sister who was lying terribly ill in thenext cabin `Monica, we are having bacon! Have a bit of bread soaked infat?' Then Monica would groan--a heartrending groan, and they wouldstart afresh. `Buck up, Monica--try a muffin!' At lunch-time theypressed roast beef and Yorkshire pudding upon her, and she groanedlouder than ever. She _was_ ill, poor girl. In Norway there was analarm of fire in one of those terrible wooden hotels, and we all jumpedon each other's balconies to get to the outside staircases. It was soonextinguished, but it was a very bad scare. And now this is the third.Mr Elgood, do coo-ee again! Ron must be looking for me, unless he islost himself."

  The Editor put his hands to his mouth and sent forth a succession oflong-drawn-out calls, which seemed as though they must surely be heardfor miles around, but in the silence which followed no note of replycould be heard. In the face of such continued disappointment, Margothad not the courage to go on making conversation, but relapsed into adreary silence, which was broken only by the gentle puff-puff of theEditor's pipe. In the darkness and silence neither took note of time,or realised how it sped along. Only by physical sensations could it bechecked, but gradually these became disagreeably pressing.

  Margot's feet were like ice, her fingers so cold as to be almostpowerless; but as the minutes passed slowly by the active discomfort wasreplaced by a feeling of drowsy indifference. She seemed to have beensitting for years staring into a blank white wall, and had no longer anydesire to move from her position. It was easier to sit still, and waitupon Fate.

  Beneath the veil of darkness her head drooped forward, and she swayedgently from side to side. For some time these movements were so slightas to pass unnoticed by her companion, but as the drowsiness increasedthe muscles seemed to lose control, the swayings became momentarily morepronounced, until she tilted violently over, to recover herself with ajerk and a groan. Then indeed George Elgood was startled into anxiousattention.

  "What is it? What is the matter? Are you in pain?"

  The inarticulate murmur which did duty for reply seemed only to whetanxiety still further.

  "Miss Vane, are you ill? For pity's sake tell me what is wrong!"

  Another murmur sounded faintly in his ear, followed by anincoherent--"I'm only--asleep! So--very--tired!"

  With a sharp exclamation the Editor leapt upwards, and the drowsy Margotfelt herself suddenly hoisted to her feet by a pair of strong arms. Thearms retained their hold of her even after she was erect, shaking her toand fro with almost painful energy.

  "But you _must_ not sleep! Margot, Margot, awake! I can't let yousleep. It is the worst thing you could do. Speak to me, Margot. Tellme you understand. Margot! Darling! Oh, do rouse yourself, and try tounderstand!"

  Margot never forgot that moment, or the wonder of it. She seemed toherself to be wandering in a strange country, far, far away from thesolid tangible earth--a land of darkness and dreams, of strange, numbingunreality. Her eyes were open, yet saw nothing: impalpable chainsfettered her limbs, so that they grew stiff and refused to move; an icycoldness crept around her heart. Hearing, like the other senses, wasdulled, yet through the throbbing silence a sound had penetrated,bringing with it a thrill of returning life. Some one had called"_Margot_" in a tone she had never heard before. Some one had said,"_Darling_!"

  Back through the fast-closing mists of unconsciousness Margot's soulstruggled to meet her mate. Her fingers tightened feebly on his, andher cold lips breathed a reply.

  "Yes--I am here! Do you want me?"

  Something like a sob sounded in the Editor's throat.

  "Do I want you? My little Margot! Did I ever want anything before?Come, I will warm your little cold hands. I will lead you every step ofthe way. You can't sit here any longer to perish of cold. We will walkon, and ask God to guide our feet. Lean on me. Don't be afraid!"

  Then the dream became a moving one, in which she was borne forwardencircled by protecting arms; on and on; unceasingly onward, with ever-increasing difficulty and pain.

  George Elgood never knew whether he hit, as he supposed, a straight roadforward, or wandered aimlessly over the same ground. His one care wasto support his companion, and to test each footstep before he took it;for the rest, he had put himself in God's hands, with a simple faithwhich expected a reply; and when at last the light of the cottagewindows shone feebly through the mist his thankfulness was as great ashis relief.

  As for Margot, she was too completely exhausted to realise relief; sheknew only a shrinking from the light, from the strange watching face; adeathly sensation as of falling from a towering height, before darknessand oblivion overpowered her, and she lay stretched unconscious upon thebed.