The Coming Conquest of England [124]
to carry out. What was to be done admitted no cowardly delay, no tender leave-taking must allow Heideck to guess that a knowledge of his intentions had decided her course of action. With that heroic self-command of which, perhaps, only a woman is capable in such circumstances, she forced herself to appear outwardly calm and composed. "Then I am no longer anxious about our future, my friend," she said after a long silence, smiling painfully. "I will not detain you any longer now; for I know that your duties as a soldier must stand first. I am happy that I have been permitted to see you again. Not to hinder your doing your duty in this serious time of war, I give you your freedom. Perhaps your love will some day bring you back to me of your own accord. And now, farewell." Her sudden resolution and the calmness with which she resigned herself to this second separation must have seemed almost incomprehensible to Heideck after what had passed. But her beautiful face betrayed so little of the desperate hopelessness she felt, that, after a brief hesitation, he regarded this singular change in the same light as the numerous other surprises to which her mysterious nature had already treated him. She had spoken with such quiet firmness, that he could no longer look upon her resolution as the suggestion of a perverse or angry whim. "For God's sake, Edith, what do you intend to do?" "I shall try to return to Dover to-morrow. I should only be in your way here." "In that case, we should not see each other again before you leave?" "You said yourself that there was little chance of that." "I am not my own master, and this information--" "No excuse is necessary; no regard for me should hinder you in the performance of your official duties. Once again then, good-bye, my dear, my beloved friend! May Heaven protect you!" She flung herself on his breast and kissed him; but only for a few seconds did her soft arm linger round his neck. She did not wish to give way, and yet she felt that she would not be able to control herself much longer. She hurriedly picked up her oilskin cape from the floor and seized her fisherman's hat. Heideck fervently desired to say something affectionate and tender, but his throat seemed choked as it were by an invisible hand; he could only utter, in a voice that sounded cold and dry, the words, "Farewell, my love! farewell!" When he heard the door close behind her, he started up impetuously, as if he meant to rush after her and call her back. But after the first step he stood still and pressed his clenched left hand upon his violently beating heart. His face, as if turned to stone, wore an expression of inflexible resolution, and the corners of his mouth were marked by two deep, sharp lines, as if within this single hour he had aged ten years.
XXX EDITH'S LAST JOURNEY
Skipper Brandelaar had given Edith the name of the inn near the harbour, where he expected a message from Heideck in the course of the night; for he felt certain that the Major would be anxious to speak to him as soon as possible. But he was considerably surprised when, instead of the messenger he expected, he saw his beautiful disguised passenger enter the low, smoke-begrimed taproom. He went to meet Edith with a certain clumsy gallantry, to shield her from the curiosity and importunities of the men seated with him at the table, whose weatherbeaten faces inspired as little confidence as their clothing, which smelt of tar and had suffered badly from wind and weather. Utterly surprised, he was going to question Edith, but she anticipated him. "I must get back to Dover to-night," she said hurriedly, in a low tone. "Will you take me across? I will pay you what you ask." The skipper shook his head slowly, but resolutely. "Impossible. Even if I could leave again, it couldn't be done in such weather." "It must be done. The weather is not so bad, and I know you are not the man to be afraid of a storm." "Afraid--no! Very likely I have weathered a worse storm than this with my smack. But there is a difference between the danger a man
XXX EDITH'S LAST JOURNEY
Skipper Brandelaar had given Edith the name of the inn near the harbour, where he expected a message from Heideck in the course of the night; for he felt certain that the Major would be anxious to speak to him as soon as possible. But he was considerably surprised when, instead of the messenger he expected, he saw his beautiful disguised passenger enter the low, smoke-begrimed taproom. He went to meet Edith with a certain clumsy gallantry, to shield her from the curiosity and importunities of the men seated with him at the table, whose weatherbeaten faces inspired as little confidence as their clothing, which smelt of tar and had suffered badly from wind and weather. Utterly surprised, he was going to question Edith, but she anticipated him. "I must get back to Dover to-night," she said hurriedly, in a low tone. "Will you take me across? I will pay you what you ask." The skipper shook his head slowly, but resolutely. "Impossible. Even if I could leave again, it couldn't be done in such weather." "It must be done. The weather is not so bad, and I know you are not the man to be afraid of a storm." "Afraid--no! Very likely I have weathered a worse storm than this with my smack. But there is a difference between the danger a man