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Page 4
"I don't know whether you think me an idiot," she replied; "but if you
want me to believe your stories you'd better invent 'em more reasonable.
Now, Pierre, this is what you've got to do before you leave this spot.
You've got to promise me solemnly not to go near Daddy, nor threaten him
as you once threatened me on a day you may remember, nor try to
intimidate him into takin' you back. Neither down in the cove, nor
anything else: neither now, nor at any other time."
Her girlish figure as she stood with one arm clasping the rock beside
her, looked a slight enough obstacle in the path.
"Intimidate him! A parcel o' rubbish; who's goin' to intimidate him as
you call it. Get out o' the way, and don't go meddling in men's concerns
that you know nothing about."
He seized her wrist roughly, and with her precarious footing the
position was dangerous enough: but she clung with her other arm like a
limpit to the rock. He attempted to dislodge her, when she suddenly
turned and fled back on her own accord. He hastened after her, and it
was not till he had gone some yards that, putting his hand to his belt,
he found that the knife had gone.
"The jade," he muttered, "she did it on purpose," and even with his
hatred and malice was mingled a gleam of admiration at the cleverness
that had outwitted him. He hurried on towards the cliff path, but the
sunset light was already fading into dusk, and he had to choose his
footing more carefully. When he reached the point where the rope began,
Marie had already gone down and was leaning on the rock beside her
father. Had he been near he might have noticed a strange expression in
her eyes, as she furtively watched the precipitous descent. The purple
shadows now filled both sky and sea, and the island opposite reared its
grand outline solemnly in the twilight depths, as though sitting in
eternal judgment on the transient ways of men. The evening star shone
softly above the sea. Suddenly a crash, followed by one sharp cry, was
heard; then all was still.
"Good God! That's some one fallen down the path--why don't you go and
see, child?" but Marie seemed as if she could not stir. Old Andr� slowly
dragged himself on to his feet, and took her arm, and they went
together. At the foot of the path they found the body of Pierre, dead,
his head having struck against a rock.
"He must have missed his footing in the dark," said Andr�, when they had
rowed round to the fishing village to carry the news, and the solitary
constable had bustled forth, and was endeavouring to collect information
about the accident from the only two witnesses, of whom the girl seemed
to have lost the power of speech.
"He must have missed his footing in the dark; and then the rope broke
with his weight and the clutch he give it. It lies there all loose on
the ground."
"It shouldn't have broken," said the constable. "But I always did say
we'd ought to have an iron chain down there."
CHAPTER III.
Fifty years had passed, with all their seasons' changes, and the
changing life of nature both by land and sea, and had made as little
impression on the island as the ceaseless dashing of the waves against
its coast. The cliffs, the caves and the sea-beaten boulders were the
same; the colours of the bracken on the September hills, and of the sea
anemones in their green, pellucid pools, were the same, and the
fishermen's path down to the cove was the same. No iron chain had been
put there, but the rope had never broken again.
A violent south-west gale was blowing, driving scud and sea-foam before
it, while ever new armies of rain-clouds advanced threateningly across
the shadowy waters--mighty, moving mists, whose grey-winged squadrons,
swift and irresistible, enveloped and almost blotted from sight the
little rock-bound island, against which the forces of nature seemed to
be for ever spending themselves in vain. From time to time through a gap
in the shifting cloud-ranks there shone a sudden dazzling gleam of
sunlight on the white crests of the sea-horses far away.
The good French pastor, who struggled to discharge the offices of
religion in that impoverished and for the most part socially abandoned
spot, had just allowed himself to be persuaded by his wife that it was
unnecessary to visit his sick parishioner at the other end of the island
that afternoon, when a loud rat-tat was heard in the midst of a shriek
of wind, through a grudged inch of open door-way. The hurricane burst
into the house while a dripping, breathless girl panted forth her
message, that "old Marie" had been suddenly taken bad, and was dying,
and wanted but one thing in the world, to see the Vicar.
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