During the next four days Martin and Maggie corresponded through the fair hands of Jane.He wrote only short letters, and over them he struggled.He seemed to see Maggie through a tangled mist of persons and motives and intentions.He could not get at the real Maggie at all, he could not even get at his real feelings about her.He knew that these letters were not enough for her, he could feel behind her own a longing for something from him more definite, something that would bring her closer to him.He was haunted by his picture of her sitting in that dismal house, a prisoner, waiting for him, and at last, at the end of the four days, he felt that he must, in some way or other see her.Then she herself proposed a way.
"To-morrow night (Friday)," she wrote, "the aunts are going to a meeting.They won't return until after eight o'clock.During most of that time Martha will be in the kitchen cooking, and Jane (who is staying late that night) has promised to give me a signal.I could run out for quarter of an hour and meet you somewhere close by and risk getting back.Jane will be ready to let me in.Of course, it may fail, but things can't be worse than they are...I absolutely forbid you to come if you think that this can make anything worse for you at home.But I MUST see you, Martin...I feel to-night as though I couldn't stand it any longer (although I've only had five days of it!), but I think that if I met you, really you, for only five minutes, I could bear it then for weeks.Let me know if you agree to this, and if so where we could meet about 7.30."The mere thought of seeing her was wonderful.He would not have believed a month ago that it could have come to mean so much to him.
He wrote back:
"Yes.At the corner of Dundas Street, by the Pillar Box, 7.30."He knew that she had been to that dark little street with her aunts to see Miss Pyncheon.
The night, when it came, was misty, and when he reached the place she was at once in his arms.She had been there more than five minutes, she had thought that he was not coming.Martha had nearly caught her...
He kissed her hair and her eyes and her mouth, holding her to him, forgetting everything but her.She stayed, quiet, clinging to him as though she would never let him go, then she drew away.
"Now we must walk about or some one will see us," she said.
"We've only got five minutes.Martin, what I want to know is, are you happy?""Yes," he said.
They walked like ghosts, in the misty street.
"Well, then I am," she said."Only your letters didn't sound very happy.""Can you hold on till after the New Year?" They were walking hand in hand, her fingers curled in his palm.
"Yes," she said."If you're happy."
"There are troubles of course," he said."But I don't care for Amy and the rest.It's only father that matters.I can't discover how much he knows.If I knew that I'd be much happier.We'll be all right, Maggie, if nothing happens to him."With a little frightened catch in her throat she asked him:
"How do you mean, if anything happens to him?""If anything happened to him--" she could feel his hand stiffen round hers; "through me--then--why then--I'd leave you--everything--I'd have to."
"Leave me!...Oh Martin! No!"
"I'd go.I'd go--I don't know where to.I don't know what I'd do.
I'd know then that I must leave every one alone, always, for ever--especially you."
"No.You'd need me more than ever."
"You don't understand, Maggie.I'd be impossible after that.If father suffered through me that would be the end of it--the end of everything.""Martin, listen." She caught his arm, looking up, trying to see his face."If anything like that did happen that would be where you'd want me.Don't you see that you COULDN'T harm me EXCEPT by leaving me?""You can reason it as you like, Maggie, but I know myself.I know the impulse would be too strong--to go away and hide myself from everybody.I've felt it before--when I've done something especially bad.It's something in me that I've known all my life." Then he turned to her: "But it's all right.Nothing shall happen to the old man.I'll see that it doesn't.We've only got to wait a fortnight, then I'll get him away for a holiday.And once he's better I can leave him.It WILL be all right.It SHALL."Then he bent down to her."You know, Maggie, I love you more, far more than I ever thought.Even if I went away you'd be the only one I'd love.I never dreamt that I'd care for any one so much."He felt her tremble under his hand when he said that.
She sighed."Now I can go back," she said."I'll say that over to myself again and again."They stayed a little longer, he put his arms round her again and held her so close to him that she could feel his heart throbbing.
Then when they had kissed once more she went away.
She returned safely.Jane opened the door for her, mysteriously, as though she enjoyed her share in the conspiracy.Maggie sped upstairs, and now with Martin's words in her ears, had enough to stiffen her back for the battle.
The next move in the affair was on the following afternoon when Maggie, alone in the drawing-room, beheld Caroline Smith in the doorway.
"She's got cheek enough for anything," was Maggie's first thought, but she was not aware of the true magnificence of that young woman's audacity until she found her hand seized and her cheek kissed.
Caroline, in fact, had greeted her with precisely her old spontaneous enthusiasm.
"Maggie, darling, where have you been all these days--but WEEKS it is indeed! You might at least have sent me just a word.Life simply hasn't been the same without you! You pet!...and you look tired!
Yes, you do.You've been overworking or something, all because you haven't had me to look after you!"Maggie gravely withdrew, and standing away from the shining elegance of her friend said:
"Caroline--I want to know something before we go any further.What Iwant to know is--why did you read that note that I asked you to give to Martin Warlock?"Caroline stared in amazement."My dear, what IS the matter? Are you ill or something? Oh, you are.I can see you are! You poor darling!
