CHAPTER XVII
THE UNKNOWN FORCE
"Arrah thin, Miss Isabel darlint, and can't ye rest at all?"
Old Biddy stooped over her charge, her parchment face a mass of wrinkles.Isabel was lying in bed, but raised upon one elbow in the attitude of oneabout to rise. She looked at the old woman with a queer, ironical smilein her tragic eyes.
"I am going up the mountain," she said. "It is moonlight, and I know theway. I can rest when I get to the top."
"Ah, be aisy, darlint!" urged the old woman. "It's much more likely he'llcome to ye if ye lie quiet."
"No, he will not come to me." There was unalterable conviction inIsabel's voice. "It is I who must go to him. If I had waited on themountain I should never have missed him. He is waiting for me there now."
She flung off the bedclothes and rose, a gaunt, white figure from whichall the gracious lines of womanhood had long since departed. Her silveryhair hung in two great plaits from her shoulders, wonderful hair thatshone in the shaded lamplight with a lustre that seemed luminous.
"Will I have to fetch Master Scott to ye?" said Biddy, eyeing herwistfully. "He's very tired, poor young man. There's two nights he's hadno sleep at all. Won't ye try and rest aisy for his sake, Miss Isabeldarlint? Ye can go up the mountain in the morning, and maybe that littleMiss Bathurst will like to go with ye. Do wait till the morning now!" shewheedled, laying a wiry old hand upon her. "It's no Christian hour at allfor going about now."
"Let me go!" said Isabel.
Biddy's black eyes pleaded with a desperate earnestness. "If ye'd onlylisten to reason, Miss Isabel!" she said.
"How can I listen," Isabel answered, "when I can hear his voice in myheart calling, calling, calling! Oh, let me go, Biddy! You don'tunderstand, or you couldn't seek to hold me back from him."
"Mavourneen!" Biddy's eyes were full of tears; the hand she had laid uponIsabel's arm trembled. "It isn't meself that's holding ye back. It's God.He'll join the two of ye together in His own good time, but ye can'thurry Him. Ye've got to bide His time."
"I can't!" Isabel said. "I can't! You're all conspiring against me. Iknow--I know! Give me my cloak, and I will go."
Biddy heaved a great sigh, the tears were running down her cheeks, buther face was quite resolute. "I'll have to call Master Scott after all,"she said.
"No! No! I don't want Scott. I don't want anyone. I only want to be upthe mountain in time for the dawn. Oh, why are you all such fools? Whycan't you understand?" There was growing exasperation in Isabel's voice.
Biddy's hand fell from her, and she turned to cross the room.
Scott slept in the next room to them, and a portable electric bell whichthey adjusted every night communicated therewith. Biddy moved slowly topress the switch, but ere she reached it Isabel's voice stayed her.
"Biddy, don't call Master Scott!"
Biddy paused, looking back with eyes of faithful devotion.
"Ah, Miss Isabel darlint, will ye rest aisy then? I dursn't give ye thequieting stuff without Master Scott says so."
"I don't want anything," Isabel said. "I only want my liberty. Why areyou all in league against me to keep me in just one place? Ah, listen tothat noise! How wild those people are! It is the same every night--everynight. Can they really be as happy as they sound?"
A distant hubbub had arisen in the main corridor, the banging of doorsand laughter of careless voices. It was some time after one o'clock, andthe merry-markers were on their way to bed.
"Never mind them!" said Biddy. "They're just a set of noisy children. Liedown again, Miss Isabel! They'll soon settle, and then p'raps ye'll getto sleep. It's not this way they'll be coming anyway."
"Someone is coming this way," said Isabel, listening with sudden closeattention.
She was right. The quiet tread of a man's feet came down the corridorthat led to their private suite. A man's hand knocked with imperiousinsistence upon the door.
"Sir Eustace!" said Biddy, in a dramatic whisper. "Will I tell him ye'reasleep, Miss Isabel? Quick now! Get back to bed!"
But Isabel made no movement to comply. She only drew herself togetherwith the nervous contraction of one about to face a dreaded ordeal.
Quietly the door opened. Biddy moved forward, her face puckered withanxiety. She met Sir Eustace on the threshold.
"Miss Isabel hasn't settled yet, Sir Eustace," she told him, her voicecracked and tremulous. "But she'll not be wanting anybody to disturb her.Will your honour say good night and go?"
There was entreaty in the words. Her eyes besought him. Her old gnarledhands gripped each other, trembling.
But Sir Eustace looked over her head as though she were not there. Hisgaze sought and found his sister; and a frown gathered on his clear-cut,handsome face.
"Not in bed yet?" he said, and closing the door moved forward, passingBiddy by.
Isabel stood and faced him, but she drew back a step as he reached her,and a hunted look crept into her wide eyes.
"You are late," she said. "I thought you had forgotten to say goodnight."
He was still in evening dress. It was evident that he had only just comeupstairs. "No, I didn't forget," he said. "And it seems I am not too latefor you. I shouldn't have disturbed you if you had been asleep."
She smiled a quivering, piteous smile. "You knew I should not be asleep,"she said.
He glanced towards the bed which Biddy was setting in order with tendersolicitude. "I expected to find you in bed nevertheless," he said. "Whatmade you get up again?"
She shook her head in silence, standing before him like a child thatexpects a merited rebuke.
He put a hand on her shoulder that was authoritative rather than kind."Lie down again!" he said. "It is time you settled for the night."
She threw him a quick, half-furtive look. "No--no!" she said hurriedly."I can't sleep. I don't want to sleep. I think I will get a book andread."
His hand pressed upon her. "Isabel!" he said quietly. "When I say a thingI mean it."
She made a quivering gesture of appeal. "I can't go to bed, Eustace. Itis like lying on thorns. Somehow I can't close my eyes to-night. Theyfeel red-hot."
His hold did not relax. "My dear," he said, "you talk like a hystericalchild! Lie down at once, and don't be ridiculous!"
She wavered perceptibly before his insistence. "If I do, Scott must giveme a draught. I can't do without it--indeed--indeed!"
"You are going to do without it to-night," Eustace said, with cooldecision. "Scott is worn out and has gone to bed. I made him promise tostay there unless he was rung for. And he will not be rung for to-night."
Isabel made a sharp movement of dismay. "But--but--I always have thedraught sooner or later. I must have it. Eustace, I must! I can't dowithout it! I never have done without it!"
Eustace's face did not alter. It looked as if it were hewn in granite."You are going to make a beginning to-night," he said. "You have beenpoisoned by that stuff long enough, and I am going to put a stop to it.Now get into bed, and be reasonable! Biddy, you clear out and do thesame! You can leave the door ajar if you like. I'll call you if you arewanted."
He pointed to the half-open door that led into the small adjoining roomin which Biddy slept. The old woman stood and stared at him withconsternation in her beady eyes.
"Is it meself that could do such a thing?" she protested. "I never leavemy young lady till she's asleep, Sir Eustace. I'd sooner come under thecurse of the Almighty."
He raised his brows momentarily, but he kept his hand upon his sister. Hewas steadily pressing her towards the bed. "If you don't do as you aretold, Biddy, you will be made," he observed. "I am here to-night for adefinite purpose, and I am not going to be thwarted by you. So you hadbetter take yourself out of my way. Now, Isabel, you know me, don't you?You know it is useless to fight against me when my mind is made up. Besensible for once! It's for your own good. You can't have that draught.You have got to manage without it."
"Oh, I can't! I can't!" moaned Isabel. She was striving to re
sist hishold, but her efforts were piteously weak. The force of his personalityplainly dominated her. "I shall lie awake all night--all night."
"Very well," he said inexorably. "You must. Sleep will come sooner orlater, and then you can make up for it."
"Oh, but you don't understand." Piteously she turned and clasped his armin desperate entreaty. "I shall lie awake in torture. I shall hear himcalling all night long. He is there beyond the mountains, wanting me. AndI can't get to him. It is agony--oh, it is agony--to lie and listen!"
He took her between his hands, very firmly, very quietly. "Isabel, youare talking nonsense--utter nonsense! And I refuse to listen to it. Getinto bed! Do you hear? Yes, I insist. I am capable of putting you there.If you mean to behave like a child, I shall treat you as one. Now for thelast time, get into bed."
"Sir Eustace!" pleaded Biddy in a hoarse whisper. "Don't force her, SirEustace! Don't now! Don't!"
He paid no attention to her. His eyes were fixed upon his sister'sdeath-white face, and her eyes, strained and glassy were upturned to his.
He said no more. Isabel's breath came in short sobbing gasps. Sheresisted him no longer. Under the steady pressure of his hands, her bodyyielded. She seemed to wilt under the compulsion of his look. Slowly,tremblingly, she crumpled in his hold, sinking downwards upon the bed.
He bent over her, laying her back, taking the bedclothes from Biddy'sshaking hands and drawing them over her.
Then over his shoulder briefly he addressed the old woman. "Turn out thelight, and go!"
Biddy stood and gibbered. There was that in her mistress's numbacquiescence that terrified her. "Sure, you'll kill her, Sir Eustace!"she gasped.
He made a compelling gesture. "You had better do as I say. If I want yourhelp--or advice--I'll let you know. Do as I say! Do you hear me, Biddy?"
His voice fell suddenly and ominously to a note so deep that Biddy drewback still further affrighted and began to whimper.
Sir Eustace turned back to his sister, lying motionless on the pillow."Tell her to go, Isabel! I am going to stay with you myself. You don'twant her, do you?"
"No," said Isabel. "I want Scott."
"You can't have Scott to-night." There was absolute decision in hisvoice. "It is essential that he should get a rest. He looked ready todrop to-night."
"Ah! You think me selfish!" she said, catching her breath.
He sat down by her side. "No," he answered quietly. "But I think you havenot the least idea how much he spends himself upon you. If you had, youwould be shocked."
She moved restlessly. "You don't understand," she said. "You neverunderstand. Eustace, I wish you would go away."
"I will go in half an hour," he made calm rejoinder, "if you have notmoved during that time."
"You know that is impossible;" she said.
"Very well then. I shall remain." His jaw set itself in a fashion thatbrought it into heavy prominence.
"You will stay all night?" she questioned quickly.
"If necessary," he answered.
Biddy had turned the lamp very low. The faint radiance shone upon him ashe sat imparting a certain mysterious force to his dominant outline. Helooked as immovable as an image carved in stone.
A great shiver went through Isabel. "You want to see me suffer," shesaid.
"You are wrong," he returned inflexibly. "But I would sooner see yousuffer than give yourself up to a habit which is destroying you byinches. It is no kindness on Scott's part to let you do it."
"Don't talk of Scott!" she said quickly. "No one--no one--will ever knowwhat he is to me--how he has helped me--while you--you have only lookedon!"
Her voice quivered. She flung out a restless arm. Instantly, yet withouthaste, he took and held her hand. His fingers pressed the fevered wrist.He spoke after a moment while he quelled her instinctive effort to freeherself. "I am not merely looking on to-night. I am here to help you--ifyou will accept my help."
"You are here to torture me!" she flung back fiercely. "You are here toforce me down into hell, and lock the gates upon me!"
His hold tightened upon her. He leaned slightly towards her. "I am hereto conquer you," he said, "if you will not conquer yourself."
The sudden sternness of his speech, the compulsion of his look, tookswift effect upon her. She cowered away from him.
"You are cruel!" she whispered. "You always were cruel at heart--even inthe days when you loved me."
Sir Eustace's lips became a single, hard line. His whole strength wasbent to the task of subduing her, and he meant it to be as brief astruggle as possible.
He said nothing whatever therefore, and so passed his only opportunity ofwinning the conflict by any means save naked force.
To Isabel in her torment that night was the culmination of sorrows. Foryears this brother who had once been all the world to her had held aloof,never seeking to pass the barrier which her widowed love had raisedbetween them. He had threatened many times to take the step which now atlast he had taken; but always Scott had intervened, shielding her fromthe harshness which such a step inevitably involved. And by love he hadnever sought to prevail. Her mental weakness seemed to have madetenderness from him an impossibility. He could not bear with her. It wasas though he resented in her the likeness to one beloved whom he mournedas dead.
Possibly he had never wholly forgiven her marriage--that disastrousmarriage that had broken her life. Possibly her clouded brain was to hima source of suffering which drove him to hardness. He had ever beenimpatient of weakness, and what he deemed hysteria was wholly beyond hisendurance; and the spectacle of the one being who had been so much to himcrushed beneath a sorrow the very existence of which he resented was onewhich he had never been able to contemplate with either pity ortolerance. As he had said, he would rather see her suffering than apassive slave to that sorrow and all that it entailed.
So during the dreadful hours that followed he held her to her inferno,convinced beyond all persuasion---with the stubborn conviction of an ironwill--that by so doing he was acting for her welfare, even in a senseworking out her salvation.
He relied upon the force of his personality to accomplish the end he hadin view. If he could break the fatal rule of things for one night only,he believed that he would have achieved the hardest part. But the processwas long and agonizing. Only by the sternest effort of will could he keepup the pressure which he knew he must not relax for a single moment if hemeant to attain the victory he desired.
There came a time when Isabel's powers of endurance were lost in theabyss of mental suffering into which she was flung, and she struggledlike a mad creature for freedom. He held her in his arms, feeling herstrength wane with every paroxysm, till at last she lay exhausted, onlyfeebly entreating him for the respite he would not grant.
But even when the bitter conflict was over, when she was utterlyconquered at last, and he laid her down, too weak for further effort, hedid not gather the fruits of victory. For her eyes remained wide andglassy, dry and sleepless with the fever that throbbed ceaselessly in thepoor tortured brain behind.
She was passive from exhaustion only, and though he closed the staringeyes, yet they opened again with tense wakefulness the moment he took hishand from the burning brow.
The night was far advanced when Biddy, creeping softly came to hermistress's side in the belief that she slept at last. She had not daredto come before, had not dared to interfere though she had listened with awrung heart to the long and futile battle; for Sir Eustace's wrath wasvery terrible, too terrible a thing to incur with impunity.
But the moment she looked upon Isabel's face, her courage came upon aflood of indignation that carried all before it.
"Faith, I believe you've killed her!" she uttered in a sibilant whisperacross the bed. "Is it yourself that has no heart at all?"
He looked back to her, dominant still, though the prolonged struggle hadleft its mark upon him also. His face was pale and set.
"This is only a phase," he said quietly. "She will fall asleep pres
ently.You can get her a cup of tea if you can do it without making a fuss."
Biddy turned from the bed. That glimpse of Isabel's face had been enough.She had no further thought of consequences. She moved across the room toset about her task, and in doing so she paused momentarily and pressedthe bell that communicated with Scott's room.
Sir Eustace did not note the action. Perhaps the long strain had weakenedhis vigilance somewhat. He sat in massive obduracy, relentlessly watchinghis sister's worn white face.
Two minutes later the door opened, and a shadowy figure slipped into theroom.
He looked up then, looked up sharply. "You!" he said, with curtdispleasure.
Scott came straight to him, and leaned over his sister for a moment witha hand on his shoulder. She did not stir, or seem aware of his presence.Her eyes gazed straight upwards with a painful, immovable stare.
Scott stood up again. His hand was still upon Eustace. He looked him inthe eyes. "You go to bed, my dear chap!" he said. "I've had my rest."
Eustace jerked back his head with a movement of exasperation. "Youpromised to stay in your room unless you were rung for," he said.
Scott's brows went up for a second; then, "For the night, yes!" he said."But the night is over. It is nearly six. I shan't sleep again. You goand get what sleep you can."
Eustace's jaw looked stubborn. "If you will give me your word of honournot to drug her, I'll go," he said. "Not otherwise."
Scott's hand pressed his shoulder. "You must leave her in my care now,"he said. "I am not going to promise anything more."
"Then I remain," said Eustace grimly.
A muffled sob came from Biddy. She was weeping over her tea-kettle.
Scott took his brother by the shoulders as he sat. "Go like a goodfellow," he urged. "You will do harm if you stay."
But Eustace resisted him. "I am here for a definite purpose," he said,"and I have no intention of relinquishing it. She has come through so farwithout it, I am not going to give in at this stage."
"And you think your treatment has done her good?" said Scott, with aglance at the drawn, motionless face on the pillow.
"Ultimate good is what I am aiming at," his brother returned stubbornly.
Scott's hold became a grip. He leaned suddenly down and spoke in awhisper. "If I had known you were up to this, I'm damned if I'd havestayed away!" he said tensely.
"Stumpy!" Eustace opened his eyes in amazement. Strong language fromScott was so unusual as to be almost outside his experience.
"I mean it!" Scott's words vibrated. "You've done a hellish thing! Clearout now, and leave me to help her in my own way! Before God, I believeshe'll die if you don't! Do you want her to die?"
The question fell with a force that was passionate. There was violence inthe grip of his hands. His light eyes were ablaze. His whole meagre bodyquivered as though galvanized by some vital, electric current more potentthan it could bear.
And very curiously Sir Eustace was moved by the unknown force. It struckhim unawares. Stumpy in this mood was a complete stranger to him, a beingpossessed by gods or devils, he knew not which; but in any case a beingthat compelled respect.
He got up and stood looking down at him speculatively, too astonished tobe angry.
Scott faced him with clenched hands. He was white as death. "Go!" hereiterated. "Go! There's no room for you in here. Get out!"
His lips twisted over the words, and for an instant his teeth showed witha savage gleam. He was trembling from head to foot.
It was no moment for controversy. Sir Eustace recognized the fact just assurely as he realized that his brother had completely parted with hisself-control. He had the look of a furious animal prepared to spring athis throat.
Greek had met Greek indeed, but upon ground that was wholly unsuitablefor a tug of war. With a shrug he yielded.
"I don't know you, Stumpy," he said briefly. "You've got beyond yourself.I advise you to pull up before we meet again. I also advise you to bearin mind that to administer that draught is to undo all that I have spentthe whole night to accomplish."
Scott stood back for him to pass, but the quivering fury of the manseemed to emanate from him like the scorching draught from a blastfurnace. As Eustace said, he had got beyond himself,--so far beyond thathe was scarcely recognizable.
"Your advice be damned!" he flung back under his breath with aconcentrated bitterness that was terrible. "I shall follow my ownjudgment."
Sir Eustace's mouth curled superciliously. He was angry too, though by nomeans so angry as Scott. "Better look where you go all the same," heobserved, and passed him by, not without dignity and a secret sense ofrelief.
The long and fruitless vigil of the night had taught him one thing atleast. Rome was not built in a day. He would not attempt the feat asecond time, though neither would he rest till he had gained his end.
As for Scott, he would have a reckoning with him presently--a strictlyprivate reckoning which should demonstrate once and for all who wasmaster.
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