The Captives [250]
for them. Martin was still very silent, but he liked the air with the tang of the sea in it, and he asked sometimes about the names of places. As they drew nearer and nearer to all the old--remembered scenes, Maggie's heart beat faster and faster--this lane, that field, that cottage. And then, at last, there was the Vicarage perched on the top of the hill, with its chimneys like cats' ears!
She thought of Uncle Mathew. The sight of the tranquil evening the happiness and comfort of the fields enabled her to think of him, for the first time, quietly. She could face deliberately his death. It was as though he had been waiting for her here and had come forward to reassure her.
They drove through the quiet little village, out on to the high road, then down a side lane, the hedges brushing against the sides of the jingle, then through the gates, into the yard, with Borhedden Farm, bright with its lighted windows, waiting for them.
Mrs. Bolitho was standing in the porch and greeted them warmly.
"You'll be just starved," she said. "It's wisht work driving in an open jingle all the way from Clinton. Supper's just about ready."
They were shown up to the big roomy bedroom, smelling of candles and clover and lavender. Martin stood there looking about, then--
"Oh, Martin, isn't it nice!" Maggie cried. "I do hope you'll be happy here!"
The emotion of returning home, of seeing the old places, sniffing the old scents, reviving the old memories was too much for her. She flung her arms round his neck and kissed him on the lips. For a moment, for a wonderful moment it seemed that he was going to respond. She felt him move towards her. His hands tightened about hers. Then, but very gently, he drew away from her and walked to the window.
CHAPTER III
THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE
Maggie, before she left London, had written both to Paul and Mr. Magnus giving them her new address. She had intended to see Magnus, but Martin's illness had absorbed her so deeply that she could not proceed outside it. She told him quite frankly that she was going down to Glebeshire with Martin and that she would remain with him there until he was well. She did not try to defend herself; she did not argue the case at all; she simply stated the facts.
Mr. Magnus wrote to her at once. He was deeply concerned, he did not chide her for what she had done, but he begged her to realise her position. She felt through every line of his letter that he disapproved of and distrusted Martin. His love for Maggie (and she felt that he had indeed love for her) made him look on Martin as the instigator in this affair. He saw Maggie, ignorant of the world, led away by a seducer from her married life, persuaded to embark upon what his own experience had taught him to be a dangerous, lonely, and often disastrous voyage. He had never heard of any good of Martin; he had been always in his view, idle, dissolute, and selfish. What could he think but that Martin had, most wickedly, persuaded her to abandon her safety?
She answered his letter, telling him in the greatest detail the truth. She told him that Martin had done all he could to refuse, that, had he not been so ill, he would have left her, that he had threatened her, again and again, with what he would do if she did not the him.
She showed him that it had been her own determination and absolute resolve that had created the situation--and she told him that she was happy for the first time in her life.
But his letter did force her to realise the difficulties of her position. In writing to Mrs. Bolitho she had spoken of herself as Martin's wife, and now when she was called "Mrs. Warlock" she tacitly accepted that, hating the deceit, but wishing for anything that might keep the situation tranquil and undisturbed. She asked Mrs. Bolitho to let her have a small room near the big one, telling her that Martin was so ill that he must be undisturbed at night. Then Mr. Magnus's letter arrived addressed to "Miss Cardinal," and she thought that Mrs. Bolitho looked at her oddly when she gave it to her. Martin's
She thought of Uncle Mathew. The sight of the tranquil evening the happiness and comfort of the fields enabled her to think of him, for the first time, quietly. She could face deliberately his death. It was as though he had been waiting for her here and had come forward to reassure her.
They drove through the quiet little village, out on to the high road, then down a side lane, the hedges brushing against the sides of the jingle, then through the gates, into the yard, with Borhedden Farm, bright with its lighted windows, waiting for them.
Mrs. Bolitho was standing in the porch and greeted them warmly.
"You'll be just starved," she said. "It's wisht work driving in an open jingle all the way from Clinton. Supper's just about ready."
They were shown up to the big roomy bedroom, smelling of candles and clover and lavender. Martin stood there looking about, then--
"Oh, Martin, isn't it nice!" Maggie cried. "I do hope you'll be happy here!"
The emotion of returning home, of seeing the old places, sniffing the old scents, reviving the old memories was too much for her. She flung her arms round his neck and kissed him on the lips. For a moment, for a wonderful moment it seemed that he was going to respond. She felt him move towards her. His hands tightened about hers. Then, but very gently, he drew away from her and walked to the window.
CHAPTER III
THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE
Maggie, before she left London, had written both to Paul and Mr. Magnus giving them her new address. She had intended to see Magnus, but Martin's illness had absorbed her so deeply that she could not proceed outside it. She told him quite frankly that she was going down to Glebeshire with Martin and that she would remain with him there until he was well. She did not try to defend herself; she did not argue the case at all; she simply stated the facts.
Mr. Magnus wrote to her at once. He was deeply concerned, he did not chide her for what she had done, but he begged her to realise her position. She felt through every line of his letter that he disapproved of and distrusted Martin. His love for Maggie (and she felt that he had indeed love for her) made him look on Martin as the instigator in this affair. He saw Maggie, ignorant of the world, led away by a seducer from her married life, persuaded to embark upon what his own experience had taught him to be a dangerous, lonely, and often disastrous voyage. He had never heard of any good of Martin; he had been always in his view, idle, dissolute, and selfish. What could he think but that Martin had, most wickedly, persuaded her to abandon her safety?
She answered his letter, telling him in the greatest detail the truth. She told him that Martin had done all he could to refuse, that, had he not been so ill, he would have left her, that he had threatened her, again and again, with what he would do if she did not the him.
She showed him that it had been her own determination and absolute resolve that had created the situation--and she told him that she was happy for the first time in her life.
But his letter did force her to realise the difficulties of her position. In writing to Mrs. Bolitho she had spoken of herself as Martin's wife, and now when she was called "Mrs. Warlock" she tacitly accepted that, hating the deceit, but wishing for anything that might keep the situation tranquil and undisturbed. She asked Mrs. Bolitho to let her have a small room near the big one, telling her that Martin was so ill that he must be undisturbed at night. Then Mr. Magnus's letter arrived addressed to "Miss Cardinal," and she thought that Mrs. Bolitho looked at her oddly when she gave it to her. Martin's