Between the Silences, and other stories

Front matter

AND 0~HEE STORIES. dARROLiDS' 3/6 SERIES OF POPULAR NOVELS, By WELL-KNOWN AUTHORS. (Crown &7J0., Cloth.) Uniform with " Between the Silences. i. LOUIS DRAYCOTT. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 2nd Edition. ». GEOFFREY STIRLING. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 5th Edition. 3. BONNIE KATE. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 2nd Edition. 4. A NEW OTHELLO. By Hon. Iza Duffus Hardy. 2nd Edition. 5. THE MAID OF LONDON BRIDGE. By Somekville GlENEY. ■6. EVELINE WELLWOOD. By Major Norris Paul. 7. OLD LATTIMERS LEGACY^ By J. S. Fletcher. 8. THAT LITTLE GIRL. Ily Curtis Yorke. 4th Edition. 9. DUDLEY. By Curtis Yorke. 3rd Edition. 10. THE WILD RUTHVENS:_ByCuRTis~YoR_E. 3rd Edition. 11. THE BROWN PORTMANTEAU, and other Stories. By Curtis YobkeP ( 2nd Edition. 12. HUSH! By Curtis Yorke*- gr4 Edition. 13. ONCE! By CurtIs Yc^ke/ 2nd-.#dit.on. i4- A ROMANCE OR^tiOT)^RJ*7''LONDON.

By Curtis Yorke. 2nd Edisiba^ 15. HIS HEART TO WIN. By Curtis Yorke. 2nd Edition. 16. DARRELLCHF.yASNEY. By Curtis Yorke. 17. BETWEEN THE SILENCES, and other Stories. By Curtis Yorke. 18. THE PEYTON ROMANCE. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 2nd Edition. [Shortly. OTHERS IN PREPARATION. LONDON: JARROLD _- SONS, io &° n, Warwick Lane, E.C. ginb gifBer "it. CURTIS YORKE, Avthorof'H.isJi!" " Once I" "Dudley," "The Wild ButAvent," "A Romance of Modem London,''' ' ' His Heart to Win," etc., etc. LONDON : JARROLD & SONS, 10 & 11, WARWICK LANE, E.C. [All Ritjht* Reserved.] 1891. I CONTENTS. PAOB Between the Silences ... ... ... 9 Almost! ... ... ... ... 25 Conyers' Brilliant Idea ... ... ... 47 He and She! ... ... ... ... 75 An Adequate Reason ... ... ... 99 Thus Far! ... ... ... ... 115 Carhilton's Choice ... ... ... 135 Two on an Island ... ... ... 155 That Old Maid! ... ... ... ... 249 The Mystery of Belgrave S-juaiik ...

A S the clocks rang ten, the woman at the fire stirred and shivered. The ashes of the letters she had burned smouldered dully, and smothered what was left of the dying fire. " Ten years ago ! " she said, half aloud. " Ten years ! It is a long time. And I was only nineteen. Nineteen ! And now — my hair is quite white, and my heart is old." She looked down at the two remaining letters that lay in her lap. The edges of them were frayed and frail, as if with much folding and unfolding. Yet another unfolding tore one of them roughly. " Are you treating me fairly in the matter, Ursula ? " it said in a heavy black handwriting that seemed masculine and true. " Is there any justice in your bitter hatred of me ? Is it not as hard for me as for you ? Our marriage was " With a passionate gesture the woman tore the paper across and across into tiniest fragments, and flung it into the fireplace.

Chapter I. One And One

" There is sorrow on the sea, It cannot be quiet : There are tears for you and me !'; * * * w 13 Y JOVE ! it'll be dark in another minute. And I can't keep this up much longer — that's certain," muttered Eric Rutherford between his strong white teeth, as he struck out with a fierce energy that was more than half despair. It seemed probable that he could not keep it up much longer. He was pretty well exhausted, indeed. Which, seeing that he had been buffeting the waves of the Pacific Ocean — assisted by nothing more reliable than a very slender floating spar — for the best part of ten hours, was hardly to be wondered at. He was a remarkably good swimmer, and the storm of the morning had died down, leaving the sea calm enough to be moderately enjoyable, perhaps, if one were swimming for pleasure.

As Eric Rutherford, however, happened to be swimming for dear life, it seemed to him rougher than there wras any occasion for. TWO ON AX ISLAXD. 156 He was becoming more and more exhausted ; his strokes grew feebler and shallower ; life appeared to him to be less and less desirable. All at once, in the swiftly-falling darkness, he caught sight of an indistinct line of rocks straight ahead. Hope sprang to life once more ; he summoned up all his failing energies ; and five minutes later a long rolling wave bore him some way up the rocky shore, and receding, left him there. It seemed to him that the friendly wave had selected a particularly sharp and jagged portion of the shore on which to land him. But for a considerable time he was too absolutely worn out to do more than lie in a kind of dreamy stupor, listening to the monotonous rush of the advancing and receding waters that surrounded him.

A wave washing over his face reminded him at last of time and tide. So he scrambled dizzily to his feet, and proceeded to pick his way among the black, slippery rocks, which he now found were a very considerable distance from the whitely-gleaming beach beyond. A watery moon shed a faint light upon his way, and after stumbling and slipping about a good deal, and making use of a fair amount of questionable language, he found himself upon a strip of hard, wave-ribbed sand, broken here and there by huge rocks and boulders. Further up, a few tall ghostly trees loomed ; and to the right, a jagged line of high, frowning rocks seemed to run some distance inland. Rutherford sat down — principally because he was too utterly done up to stand — and looked about him. And then — a curious thing happened.

All at once, upon the weird stillness, rose the sound of a voice — a human voice — singing. It seemed to be some way off, and rose and fell intermittently. Rutherford was a plucky fellow enough ; but I am obliged to confess that uncomfortable visions of cannibals flashed across his fancy, and his heart — stout English heart though it was— beat several degrees faster than was its wont. TWO ON AX ISLAND. 157 He listened intently for a few moments ; then passed his hand, with a bewildered gesture, across his forehead. " I'm dreaming ! " he muttered — " or I'm light-headed— or — or worse. Eric Hamlyn Rutherford, my dear fellow, you're in a bad way." For the mysterious voice now rose clear and strong through the moonlit dusk. The air was a familiar one. And the words ? The words were English ! He could hear them distinctly. ' Oft in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Sad memory biings the light Of other days around me.'1 The voice came nearer — nearer — accompanied now by the unmistakable sound of footsteps.

Rutherford rose to his feet, and advanced a little way into the moonlight. A human figure was certainly approaching him, making its way swiftly across the rough shingle above the sandy beach. As it came nearer, he became aware that it was the figure of a woman, slim and graceful, and to all appearance, very young. When perhaps a couple of yards lay between them she halted, and then he saw her face — sawenough to distinguish that it was a small, well-featured face, with great, soft, dark eyes looking at him steadily from under masses of wavy, copper-coloured hair. They surveyed each other in silence for at least a minute. Rutherford fancied she looked frightened. As for him, he had not quite made up his mind whether she was a flesh-and blood young woman, or a fevered creation of his own brain, engendered by fasting and exhaustion.

But presently she said, speaking slowly, and in perfectly correct and orthodox English : " You look like an Englishman. Are you au Englishman ? " Her voice stole to his ears pleasantly. . It was very sweet, and held a half-childish ring in its vibrating tones. "Yes," he answered after a pause, during which he had been speechless with puzzled amazement, " I am English. And you? Surely you are English too. And — pardon me — but how in the name of — er— everything extraordinary do you come to be here I Is there an English colony here, or — or what ? " He stammered and hesitated ; for one or two peculiarities in her dress suggested that if the pre-supposed " colony " dressed all its women in similar fashion, it must be, to say the least of it, unique and free and easy to a degree unknown to most English colonies.

But at his words the girl's eyes filled with tears. " Ah, no," she answered sadly. " I am quite, quite alone. This is not the mainland, as you may think — but a lonely island where no ships ever come— never — never! — until they are hopeless wrecks." And to his utter consternation and alarm, she covered her face with her hands, and broke into bitter weeping. Rutherford looked on distractedly aud helplessly for about a minute. Then a wave of compassionate pity swept over him. A woman in tears ! A pretty w-oman, too ! And such a young woman — almost a child ! " Poor little thing," he said gently ; " don't cry. Tell me all about it. How do you come to be here all alone ? There, there — I wouldn't cry, you know." As he spoke he took her hand, and I don't know what further mode of consolation he might have attempted, had she not quickly withdrawn the slender fingers, checked her sobs, and exclaimed : " Good gracious! how wet you are !"

" Ah, yes, I daresay," was the somewhat laconic answer. " I believe I am rather wet. One is apt to be wet, you know, if one has just come out of the sea." She came a step nearer. " Have you— have you been shipwrecked ? " she said, almost in a whisper. ISLAND. 159 " Unhappily — yes," the young man answered, with a rueful shrug of his shoulders. As he spoke he shivered, for he felt chilled to the bone. His companion was, as far as he could see, a pretty girl ; and pretty girls are manifestly at a premium on desert islands. Nevertheless — oh, prosaic heart of man ! — his chief thought just then was that he would give all he knew for a stiff glass of brandy. His companion looked at him scrutiuizingly, and knitted her straight brows. " You are taking a chill," she said in a matter-of-fact voice, when she had examined him attentively for a few silent seconds.

" You must have something warm. Come away at once," she added, with an imperious gesture. As she spoke she turned, and walked quickly inland. Rutherford followed her mechanically, his teeth chattering iu the cool wind that was coming over the sea. " Something warm ! " he muttered, with the grim shadow of a smile under the sweep of his brown moustache, " I wish I saw it ! "

Chapter II

" CURIOSER AND CURIOSER ! " "The whispering waves were half asleep, The clouds were gone to play. And on the woods and on the deep The smile of Heaven lay." Shelley. THE mysterious girl flitted on iu front, aud Rutherford followed more slowly, for he was stiff, and tired to death. They kept the line of cliffs to their right, and Rutherford noticed that here and there a dark, cave-like opening yawned from the moon-whitened rock as they passed. The girl stopped at the last of these caves, from whence a dull red gleam, as of a dying fire, shone out — to be instantly killed by the moonlight. " Come in," she said, turning round with a little smile. He obeyed, and found himself in a low-roofed, oblong shaped caveru. The floor was covered with white glistening sand ; the walls were rough, and bristling with sharp, pro jecting little ledges, on which were hung festoons of gaily coloured grasses.

In one corner smouldered a wood fire ; in another was what looked like a mattress. Rough and primitive as this interior was, there was an indescribable air of neatness and comfort about it. At least, so it struck Rutherford. " Sit down," said his hostess, indicating a fat bunch of grasses near the entrance. " You do look so worn out." He gladly flung himself down, and watched her dreamily as she, filled with water a small tin pannikin, and placed it upon the fire, after having blown the embers into a cheery blaze. Then she went out, returning presently with a small keg, which she half carried, half rolled into the cavern. Rutherford sprang to his feet. " AVhat are you doing?" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you let me bring that ? " " Because you didn't know where it was," she answered, with a gleeful, breathless little laugh, like a child's. " But you cau open it.

It was washed ashore one stormy night with a lot of other things. I suppose some ship had been wrecked." And her little face grew very grave. Then she added, " I should think it must be spirits of some kind. That is why I brought it in. For I suppose— if it is spirits — you would rather have that with hot water than — than hot cocoa-nut milk, for instance ?" " I most certainly should," he acquiesced promptly. (Really this was a very sensible little girl, he decided.) With the aid of a knife, a hard stone, and a good deal of labour, they got the keg open, and found that it contained — not brandy, nor whiskey, nor rum, nor even wine — but some kind of loathsomely-smelling oil. TWO OX AN ISLAND. 161 Rutherford narrowly escaped making use of a most objectionable expression. " Oh, I am sorry ! " exclaimed the girl blankly.

Her companion was something more than sorry. However, there was no help for it, and he was obliged to be content with hot cocoa-nut milk after all. It was rather nasty, to be sure. But it was warm ; and he was cold. He refused to eat anything, saying, with truth, that — in spite of his long fast — he was not in the very least degree hungry. "Now," said the girl, -who had been watching him with round, innocent, thoughtful eyes " I have been thinking that you must sleep here to-night, because of the fire. I will put some more wood on. I am so afraid you will get cold in these wet clothes, so you must dry them. I will go to another little cave further down. Oh, don't make any apologies, please, for turning me out. *I often sleep in the other cave when this one is full of smoke, which it some times is.

And the other is very nearly as comfortable." "I shall certainly not turn you out of your — er— room," he said very decidedly. " I shall go to the other cave." " You will do nothing of the kind," she answered with equal decision. " If you knew how damp and chilly these caves are at night without a fire, you wouldn't want to." " And yet you think I am such a selfish beast as to allow you to expose yourself to the cold and damp ? " he exclaimed indignantly. " I shall most certainly " " Oh, I shall light a fire," she interrupted him, with a reassuring little nod. " I am not going to bed for a long time yet, and the fire will have burned up nicely by then. But as for you — you must go to bed now ! " This very severely. After some pretty smart wrangling, Rutherford gave in — though very unwillingly.

"Ah, don't look vexed," said the girl, with a curious childlike earnestness. " If you knew how glad I am to see you, you would understand that I would do anything for L ISLAND. 162 you. If you had been living here alone— quite alone— for six months, like me, you would know what a boon it is to see any human face — much less a kind English face " She broke off with a dry little sob. Rutherford, mortally afraid lest she should be going to cry again, assured her that she should arrange things just as she liked, and that he would not say another word. " Well, come and help me to get some more wood. And then you must go to bed at once," said this small autocrat, with an air of authority which amused her companion mightily. " Do you feel warmer uow ? " " Oh, I feel all right," he replied, with an involuntary shiver that belied his words.

"Ah!" she said, shaking her pretty head. "I do wish, for your sake, that there had been some kind of spirits iu that little keg." ■ " So do I," he responded with heart-felt earnestness. The girl led the way to a much smaller cave — barely more than a hole in the rock — near the water's edge, where various heterogeneous articles appeared to be stored. In one corner lay a heap of dry leaves and brushwood. The walls glistened with moisture, and as he entered Rutherford was sensible of that clammy, marrow-penetrating chill peculiar to sea-girt caverns, even in the tropics — as all travellers know. " I hope this is not where you mean to sleep to-night ? " he exclaimed hastily. " Oh, no. The other cave is higher up, and quite comfortable," she answered. " This is what I call my store-room." When they got back to the largest cave again, the girl began at once to dexterously make up the fire, laying one piece of wood lightly across another until a roaring blaze illuminated the rugged walls.

" How do you light your fire ? " asked Rutherford suddenly. "Light it? " she repeated, smiling a little. " Why, it has never been out — but once — all the months I have been here. As I have made it up now, it will last until the morning. IS LAX D. 163 Aud if it should ever go out, I have six precious matches. See" As she spoke, she put her hand into her pocket, and produced a small silver match-box. " I have carried this in my pocket for years," she said. "At home it was useful for sealing letters, and for lots of things. But I little thought how I should come to value it— or where I should use it." " I believe I have a box too," he answered—" not unlike yours. We must combine our stock." " Now, you must have some rest," she said, looking at a tiny gold watch she drew from her breast. " It is quite late.

Oh, yes, I know the time, even in this savage land. I have wound up my watch every night regularly since I— came here." " I wish you would tell me how you did come here," he asked. " And if you " " To-morrow," she interrupted him, laying one little finger upon her lip. Then she heated some more cocoa-nut milk for him (which she made him promise to drink immediately before lying down) and prepared to depart. " Good-night," she said, frankly offering him her hand. " I hope you will be comfortable. Be sure you put your clothes to dry," she added in a matter-of-fact voice. He smiled involuntarily. " Good-night," he said. " May I not even know how to address my gentle hostess ? " But she only answered him as before by saying softly : " To-morrow." Then with a cheerful little nod, she went away.

Left alone, Rutherford divested himself of most of his wet garments, disposed them where they would be soonest dried, and flung himself upon the mattress. It seemed to be composed of coarse diy grass or fibre, twisted roughly in and out in a kind of double or treble plait to hold it together, and was not at all uncomfortable. TWO OX AN ISLAND. 164 He did not, however, drink his second supply of cocoa-nut milk. He felt he could not manage it. As he lay there, watching the leaping blaze illuminating the walls of the cavern and losing itself in the conflicting moonlight that just penetrated the narrow entrance— as the monotonous rushing and receding of the waves upon the shore mingled with the hoarse cries of unknown night-birds in his ears— a curious sense of unreality took possession of him.

He felt as if he had been suddenly whisked into the " Arabian Nights," or some equally probable land of old world fiction. He had had some queer adventures in his time, he reflected. But this was certainly the queerest. Who was she ? — this sweet, innocent, childlike creature, who treated him exactly as she might have treated her grandfather ? What was her name ? And how on earth did she come to be here — alone on this dreary island ? She looked awfully young, he reflected further — not more than seventeen, at the most. And if she was not exactly a beauty, there was something very taking, and winsome, and attractive, about her. At this point he began to feel very sleepy. But what sound was this? — rising and falling on the sultry night air ? It was the voice of the mysterious girl — singing.

This time she was singing an old, old evening hymn, that carried Rutherford back to his early childhood. Softly and clearly rose the sweet, childlike voice, above the waves' subdued rushing, above the ceaseless hum of the tropical night. • The dear old familiar words curled round Ruther ford's heart like the half-forgotten touch of loved and long lost fingers. A little child-sister, long since dead, used to sing that hymn, he remembered — how many far-away years ago? His eyes grew moist. He bit his lips nervously. The little sister had been very dear to him. Even now, in his pocket-book, he kept a tiny withered violet plucked from her grave. The pathetic young voice went on singing— singing. And when at last Rutherford slept, the voice mingled with his dreams.