CHAPTER XVIII
THE ESCAPE OF THE PRISONER
Dinah spent her Sunday afternoon seated in a far corner of the verandah,inditing a very laboured epistle to her mother--a very different affairfrom the gay little missives she scribbled to her father every other day.
The letter to her mother was a duty which must of necessity beaccomplished, and perhaps in consequence she found it peculiarlydistasteful. She never knew what to say, being uncomfortably aware that adetailed account of her doings would only give rise to drastic comment.The glories of the mountains were wholly beyond her powers of descriptionwhen she knew that any extravagance of language would be at once termedhigh-flown and ridiculous. The sleigh-drive of the day before wasdisposed of in one sentence, and the dance of the evening could not bementioned at all. The memory of it was like a flame in her innerconsciousness. Her cheeks still burned at the thought, and her heartleapt with a wild longing. When would he kiss her again, she wondered?Ah, when, when?
There was another thought at the back of her wonder which she felt to bepresumptuous, but which nevertheless could not be kept completely inabeyance. He had said that there would be no consequences; but--had hereally meant it? Was it possible ever to awake wholly from so perfect adream? Was it not rather the great reality of things to which she hadsuddenly come, and all her past life a mere background of shadows? Howcould she ever go back into that dimness now that she felt the gloriousrays of this new radiance upon her? And he also--was it possible that hecould ever forget? Surely it had ceased to be just a game to either ofthem! Surely, surely, the wonder and the rapture had caught him also intothe magic web--the golden maze of Romance!
She leaned her head on her hand and gave herself up to the greatenchantment, feeling again his kisses upon lips and eyes and brow, andthe thrilling irresistibility of his hold. Ah, this was life indeed! Ah,this was life!
A soft footfall near her made her look up sharply, and she saw Rose deVigne approaching. Rose was looking even more beautiful than usual, yetfor the first time Dinah contemplated her without any under-current ofenvy. She moved slightly to make room for her.
"I haven't come to stay," Rose announced with her quiet, well-satisfiedsmile, as she drew near. "I have promised to sing at to-night's concertand the padre wants to look through my songs. Well, Dinah, my dear, howare you getting on? Is that a letter to your mother?"
Dinah suppressed a sigh. "Yes. I've only just begun it. I don't know inthe least what to say."
Rose lifted her pretty brows. "What about your new friend Sir EustaceStudley's sister? Wouldn't she be interested to hear of her? Poor soul,it's lamentably sad to think that she should be mentally deranged. Someunfortunate strain in the family, I should say, to judge by the youngerbrother's appearance also."
Dinah's green eyes gleamed a little. "I don't see anything very unusualabout him," she remarked. "There are plenty of little men in the world."
"And crippled?" smiled Rose.
"I shouldn't call him a cripple," rejoined Dinah quickly. "He is quiteactive."
"Many cripples are, dear," Rose pointed out. "He has learnt to get thebetter of his infirmity, but nothing can alter the fact that theinfirmity exists. I call him a most peculiar little person to look at. Ofcourse I don't deny that he may be very nice in other ways."
Dinah bit her lip and was silent. To hear Scott described as nice was toher mind less endurable than to hear him called peculiar. But somehow shecould not bring herself to discuss him, so she choked down herindignation and said nothing.
Rose seated herself beside her. "I call Sir Eustace a very interestingman," she observed. "He fully makes up for the deficiencies of hisbrother and sister. He seems to be very kind-hearted too. Didn't I seehim helping you with your skating the other night?"
Dinah's eyes shone again with a quick and ominous light. "He helped youwith your ski-ing too, didn't he?" she said.
"He did, dear. I had a most enjoyable afternoon." Rose smiled again asover some private reminiscence. "He told me he thought you were comingon, in fact he seems to think that you have the makings of quite a goodskater. It's a pity your opportunities are so limited, dear." Rose pausedto utter a soft laugh.
"I don't see anything funny in that," remarked Dinah.
"No, no! Of course not. I was only smiling at the way in which hereferred to you. 'That little brown cousin of yours' he said, 'makes methink of a water-vole, there one minute and gone the next.' He seemed tothink you a rather amusing child, as of course you are." Rose put up adelicate hand and playfully caressed the glowing cheek nearest to her. "Itold him you were not any relation, but just a dear little friend of minewho had never seen anything of the world before. And he laughed and said,'That is why she looks like a chocolate baby out of an Easter egg.'"
"Anything else?" said Dinah, repressing an urgent desire to shiver at thekindly touch.
"No, I don't think so. We had more important matters to think of and talkabout. He is a man who has travelled a good deal, and we found that wehad quite a lot in common, having visited the same places and regardedmany things from practically the same point of view. He took the troubleto be very entertaining," said Rose, with a pretty blush. "And histrouble was not misspent. I am convinced that he enjoyed the afternooneven more than I did. We also enjoyed the evening," she added. "He is anexcellent dancer. We suited each other perfectly."
"Did you find him good at sitting out?" asked Dinah unexpectedly.
Rose looked at her enquiringly, but her eyes were fixed upon the distantmist-capped mountains. There was nothing in her aspect to indicate whathad prompted the question.
"What a funny thing to ask!" she said, with her soft laugh. "No; weenjoyed dancing much too much to waste any time sitting out. He gave youone dance, I believe?"
"No," Dinah said briefly. "I gave him one."
She turned from her contemplation of the mountains. An odd little smilevery different from Rose's smile of complacency hovered at the corners ofher mouth. She gave Rose a swift and comprehensive glance, then slippedher pen into her writing-case and closed it.
"I am afraid I have interrupted you," said Rose.
"Oh no, it doesn't matter." Dinah's dimple showed for a second and wasgone. "I can't write any more now. There's something about this air thatmakes me feel now and then that I must get up and jump. Does it affectyou that way?"
"You funny little thing!" said Rose. "Why, no!"
Dinah's chin pointed upwards. She looked for the moment almostaggressively happy. But the next her look went beyond Rose, and shestarted. Her expression altered, became suddenly tender and anxious.
"There is Mrs. Everard!" she said softly.
Rose looked round. "Ah! Captain Brent's Purple Empress!" she said. "Howhaggard the poor soul looks!"
As if drawn magnetically, Dinah moved along the verandah.
Isabel was dressed in the long purple coat she had worn the previous day.She had a cap of black fur on her head. She stood as if irresolute,glancing up and down as though she searched for someone. There was an oddfurtiveness in her bearing that struck Dinah on the instant. It alsooccurred to her as strange that though the restless eyes must have seenher they did not seem to take her in.
The fact deterred her for a second, but only for a second. Then swiftlyshe went forward and joined her.
"Are you looking for someone, dear Mrs. Everard?"
Isabel's eyes glanced at her, and instantly looked beyond. "I am lookingfor my husband," she said, her voice quick and low. "He does not seem tobe here. You have not seen him, I suppose? He is tall and fair with aboyish smile, and eyes that look straight at you. He laughs a good deal.He is always laughing. You couldn't fail to notice him. He is one whomthe gods love."
Again her eyes roamed over Dinah, and again they passed her to scan themist-wreathed mountains.
Dinah slipped a loving hand through her arm. "He is not here, dear," shesaid. "Come and sit down for a little! The sun won't be gone yet. We canwatch it go."
She tried to
draw her gently along the verandah, but Isabel resisted."No--no! I am not going that way. I have to go up the mountains to meethim. Don't keep me! Don't keep me!"
Dinah threw an anxious look around. There was no one near them. Rose hadmoved away to join a group just returned from the rink. The laughter andgay voices rose on the still air in merry chorus. No one knew or cared ofthe living tragedy so near.
Pleadingly she turned to Isabel. "Darling Mrs. Everard, need you go now?Wait till the morning! It is so late now. It will soon be dark."
Isabel made a sharp gesture of impatience. "Be quiet, child! You don'tunderstand. Of course I must go now. I have escaped from them, and if Iwait I shall be taken again. It would kill me to be kept back now. I mustmeet him in the dawn on the mountain-top. What was it you called it? Thepeaks of Paradise! That is where I shall find him. But I must start atonce--at once."
She threw another furtive look around, and stepped forth. Dinah's handclosed upon her arm. "If you go, I am coming too," she said, with quickresolution. "But won't you wait a moment--just a moment--while I runand get some gloves?"
Isabel made a swift effort to disengage herself. "No, child, no! I can'twait. If you met Eustace, he would make you tell him where you weregoing, and then he would follow and bring me back. No, I must go now--atonce. Yes, you may come too if you like. But you mustn't keep me back. Imust go quickly--quickly--before they find out. Everything depends onthat."
There was no delaying her. Dinah cast another look towards the chatteringgroup, and gave up hope. She dared not leave her, for she had no idea ofthe whereabouts of either of the brothers. And there was no time to makea search. The only course open to her was to accompany her friendwhithersoever the fruitless quest should lead. She was convinced thatIsabel's physical powers of endurance were slight, and that when theywere exhausted she would be able to bring her back unresisting.
Nevertheless, she was conscious of a little tremor at the heart as theyset forth. There was an air of desperation about her companion that itwas impossible to overlook. Isabel's manner towards her was so whollydevoid of that caressing element that had always marked their intimacytill that moment. Without being actually frightened, she was very uneasy.It was evident that Isabel was beyond all persuasion that day.
The sun was beginning to sink towards the western peaks as they turned upthe white track, casting long shadows across the snow. The pine-woodthrough which the road wound was mysteriously dark. The rush of thestream in the hollow had an eerie sound. It seemed to Dinah that theground they trod was bewitched. She almost expected to catch sight ofgoblin-faces peering from behind the dark trunks. Now and then muffled inthe snow, she thought she heard the scamper of tiny feet.
Isabel went up the steep track with a wonderful elasticity, lookingneither to right nor left. Her eyes were fixed perpetually forwards, withthe look in them of one who strains towards a goal. Her lips were parted,and the eagerness of her face went to Dinah's heart.
They came out above the pine-wood. They reached and passed the spot whereshe and Scott had turned back on their first walk together. The snowcrunched crisply underfoot. The ascent was becoming more and more acute.
Dinah was panting. Light as she was, with all the activity of youth inher veins, she found it hard to keep up, for Isabel was pressing,pressing hard. She went as one in whom the fear of pursuit was everpresent, paying no heed to her companion, seeming indeed to have almostforgotten her presence.
On and on, up and up, they went on their rapid pilgrimage. The winding ofthe road had taken them out of sight of the hotel, and the whole worldseemed deserted. The sun-rays slanted ever more and more obliquely. Thevalley behind them had fallen into shadow.
Before them and very far above them towered the great pinnacles, clothedin the everlasting snows, beginning to turn golden above their floatingwreaths of mist. Even where they were, trails like the ragged edges of acloud drifted by them, and the coldness of the air held a clammy quality.The sparkling dryness of the atmosphere seemed to be dissolving intothese thin, veil-like vapours. The cold was more penetrating than Dinahhad ever before experienced.
Now and then an icy draught came swirling down upon them, making hershiver, though it was evident that Isabel was unaware of it. The harderthe way became, the more set upon her purpose did she seem to be. Dinahmarvelled at her strength and unvarying determination. There was about itan element of the wild, not far removed from ferocity. Her uneasiness wasgrowing with every step, and something that was akin to fear began toknock at her heart. The higher they mounted, the more those trails ofmist increased. Very soon now the sun would be gone. Already it hadceased to warm that world of snow. And what would happen then? What ifthe dusk came upon them while still they pressed on up that endless,difficult track?
Timidly she clasped Isabel's arm at last. "It will be getting dark soon,"she said. "Shouldn't we be going back?"
For a moment Isabel's eyes swept round upon her, and she marvelled attheir intense and fiery brilliance. But instantly they sought themountain-tops again, all rose-lit in the opal glow of sunset.
"You can go back, child," she said. "I must go on."
"But it is getting so late," pleaded Dinah. "And look at the mist! If wekeep on much longer, we may be lost."
Isabel quickened her pace. "I am not afraid," she said, and her voicethrilled with a deep rapture. "He is waiting for me, there where themountains meet the sky. I shall find him in the dawn. I know that I shallfind him."
"But, dear Mrs. Everard, we can't go on after dark," urged Dinah. "Weshould be frozen long before morning. It is terribly cold already. Andpoor Biddy will be so anxious about you."
"Oh no!" Isabel spoke with supreme confidence. "Biddy will know where Ihave gone. She was asleep when I left, poor old soul. She had had a badnight." A sudden sharp shudder caught her. "All night I was strugglingagainst the bars of my cage. It was only when Biddy fell asleep that Ifound the door was open. But you can go back, child," she added. "You hadbetter go back. Eustace won't want to follow me if he has you."
But Dinah's hold instantly grew close and resolute. "I shall not leaveyou," she said, with decision.
Isabel made no further attempt to persuade her. She seemed to regard itas a matter of trifling importance. Her one aim was to reach thoseglowing peaks that glittered far above the floating mists like theglories half-revealed of another world.
It was nothing to her that the road by which they had come should beblotted out. She had no thought for that, no desire or intention toreturn. If an earthquake had rent away the ground behind them, she wouldnot have been dismayed. It was only the forward path, leading everupwards to the desired country, that held her mind, and the memory of avoice that called far above the mountain height.
The sun sank, the glory faded. The dark and the cold wrapped them round.But still was she undaunted. "When the dawn comes, we shall be there,"she said.
And Dinah heard her with a sinking heart. She had no thought of leavingher, but she knew and faced the fact that in going on, she carried herlife in her hand. Yet she kept herself from despair. Surely by now thebrothers would have found out, and they would follow! Surely they wouldfollow! And Eustace--Eustace would thank her for what she had done.
She strained her ears for their coming; but she heard nothing--nothingbut their own muffled footsteps on the snow. And ever the darknessdeepened, and the mist crept closer around them.
She gathered all her courage to face the falling night. She was sure shehad done right to come and so she hoped God would take care of them.
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