FullReads

They travelled so for the greater part of the night, and during the whole of that time Mercer never uttered a word. The horse he rode was jaded, and he did not press it. Beelzebub, with the other two, rode far ahead.

It was still dark when at last they turned in to the Home Farm, and, still in that awful silence, Mercer dismounted and lifted his wife to the ground.

He set her on her feet, but her limbs trembled so much that she could scarcely stand. He kept his arm around her, and led her into the house.

He took her to her room and left her there; but in a few minutes he returned with food on a tray which he set before her without raising his eyes, and again departed. She did not see him again for many hours.

XVI

From sheer exhaustion she slept at last, but her sleep was broken and unrefreshing. She turned and tossed, dozing and waking in utter weariness of mind and body till the day was far advanced. Finally, too restless to lie any longer, she arose and dressed.

The sound of voices took her to her window before she left her room, and she saw her husband on horseback with Curtis standing by his side. A sense of relief shot through her at sight of the latter. She had come to rely upon him more than she knew. While she watched, Mercer raised his bridle and rode slowly away without a backward glance. And again she was conscious of relief.

Curtis stood looking after him for a few seconds, then turned and entered the house.

She met him in the passage outside her room. He greeted her gravely.

“I was just coming to see if I could do anything for you,” he said.

“Thank you,” she answered nervously. “I am better now. Where has my husband gone?”

He did not answer her immediately. He turned aside to the room in which she generally sat, standing back for her to pass him. “I have something to say to you,” he said.

She glanced at him anxiously as she took the chair he offered her.

“In the first place,” he said, “you will be wise if you keep absolutely quiet for the next few days. There will be nothing to disturb you. Mercer is not returning at present. He has left you in my charge.”

“Oh, why?” she said.

Her hands were locked together. She had begun to tremble from head to foot.

Curtis was watching her quietly.

“I think,” he said, “that he is better away from you for a time, and he agrees with me.”

“Why?” she said again, lifting her piteous eyes. “Is he so angry with me?”

“With you? No. He has come to his senses in that respect. But he is not in a particularly safe mood, and he knows it. He has gone to fight it out by himself.”

Curtis paused, but Sybil did not speak. Her attitude had relaxed. He read unmistakble relief in every line.

“Well, now,” he said deliberately, “I am going to tell you the exact truth of this business, as Mercer himself has told it to me.”

“He wishes me to know it?” she asked quickly.

“He is willing that I should tell you,” Curtis answered. “In fact, until he saw me to-day he believed that you knew it already. That was the primary cause of his savagery last night. You have probably formed a very shrewd suspicion of what happened, but it is better for you to know things as they actually stand. If it makes you hate him–well, it’s no more than he deserves.”

“Ah, but I have to live with him,” she broke in, with sudden passion. “It is easy for you to talk of hating him, but I–I am his wife. I must go on living by his side, whatever I may feel.”

“Yes, I know,” Curtis said. “But it won’t make it any easier for either of you to feel that there is this thing between you. Even he sees that. You can’t forgive him if you don’t know what he has done.”