The Gay Rebellion. Chambers Robert William

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СКАЧАТЬ looked at him candidly. "You are not a sportsman, are you?"

      "N – no," he admitted, turning red. "Why?"

      "People who take trout in nets are fined and imprisoned."

      "Oh! But you said you had a net."

      "It wasn't a fish net."

      He waited. She offered no further explanation. Sometimes she looked at him, rather gravely, he thought; sometimes she looked at the stream. There was not the slightest hint of embarrassment in her manner as she stood there – a straight, tall, young thing, grey-eyed, red-lipped, slim, with that fresh slender smoothness of youth; clad in grey wool, hatless, thick burnished hair rippling into a heavy knot at the nape of the whitest neck he had ever seen.

      The stiller she stood, apparently wrapped in serious inward contemplation, the stiller he remained, as though the spell of her serene self-absorption consigned him to silence. Once he ventured, stealthily, to smack a mosquito, but at the echoing whack there was, in her slowly turned face, the calm surprise of a disturbed goddess; and he felt like saying "excuse me."

      "Do they bite you?" she asked, lifting her divine eyebrows a trifle.

      "Bite me! Good heavens, don't they bite you? But I don't suppose they dare – "

      "What?"

      "I didn't mean 'dare' exactly," he tried to explain, feeling his ears turning a fiery red, and wondering why on earth he should have made such a foolish remark.

      "What did you mean?"

      "N – nothing. I don't know. I say things and – and sometimes," he added in a burst of confidence, "they don't seem to mean anything at all." To himself he groaned through ground teeth: "What an ass I am. What on earth is the matter with me?"

      She considered him in silence, candidly; and redder and redder grew his ears as he saw that she was quietly inspecting him from head to foot with an interest perfectly unembarrassed, innocently intent upon her inspection.

      Then, having finished him down to his feet, she lifted her eyes, caught his, looked a moment straight into them, then sighed a little.

      "Do you know," she said, "I ought not to have come here again."

      "Why?" he asked, astonished.

      "There's no use in my telling you. There was no use in my coming. Oh, I realise that perfectly well now. And I think I'd better go – "

      She lingered a moment, glanced at the stream running gold in the afternoon light, then turned away, bidding him good-bye in a low voice.

      "Are you g-going?" he blurted out, not knowing exactly what he was saying.

      She moved on in silence. He looked after her. A perfectly illogical feeling of despair overwhelmed him.

      "For Heaven's sake, don't go away!" he said.

      She moved on a pace, another, more slowly, hesitated, halted, leisurely looked back over her shoulder.

      "What did you say?" she asked.

      "I said – I said – I said – " but he began to stammer fearfully and could get no farther.

      Perhaps she thought he was threatened with some kind of seizure; anyway, something about him apparently interested her enough to slowly retrace her steps.

      "What is the matter, Mr. Sayre?" she asked.

      "Why, that's funny!" he said; "you know my name?"

      "Yes, I know your name."

      "Could – would – should – might – " he could get no farther.

      "What?"

      "M-might I – would it be – could you – "

      "Are you trying to ask me what is my name?"

      "Yes," he said; "did you think I was reciting a lesson in grammar?"

      Suddenly the rare smile played delicately along the edges of her upcurled mouth.

      "No," she said, "I knew you were embarrassed. It wasn't nice of me. But," and her face grew grave, "there is no use in my telling you my name."

      "Why?"

      "Because we shall not meet again."

      "Won't you ever let me – give me a chance – because – you know, somehow – seeing you yesterday – and to-day – this way – "

      "Yes, I know what you mean."

      "Do you?"

      "Yes. I came back, too," she said seriously.

      A strange, inexplicable tingling pervaded him.

      "You came – came – "

      "Yes. I should not have done it, because I saw you perfectly plainly yesterday. But – somehow I hoped – somehow – "

      "What!"

      "That there had been a mistake."

      "You thought you knew me?"

      "Oh, no. I knew perfectly well I had never before seen you. That made no difference. It wasn't that. But I thought – hoped – I had made a mistake. In fact," she said, with a slight effort, "I was dishonest with myself. I knew all the time that it was useless. And as soon as I saw you with your cap off – "

      "W-what!" he faltered.

      A slight blush, perfectly distinct in her creamy skin, grew, then waned.

      "I am sorry," she said. "Of course, you do not understand what I am saying; and I can not explain… And I think I had – better – go."

      "Please don't."

      "That is an added reason for my going."

      "What is?"

      "Your saying 'please don't.'"

      He looked at her, bewildered, and slowly passed his hand across his eyes.

      "Somehow," he said, "this is all like magic to me. Here in the wilderness I hear a stick crack – "

      "I meant you to hear it. I could have moved without a sound."

      "And, looking up, I see the most beautif – I see – you. Then I dream of you."

      "Did you?"

      "Every moment – between mosquitoes! And then to-day I returned, hoping."

      She lost a trifle of her colour.

      "Hoping – what?"

      "T-t-to s-s-see you," he stammered.

      "I must go," she said under her breath, almost hurriedly; "this must stop now!"

      "Won't you – can't you – couldn't I – "

      "No. No – no – СКАЧАТЬ