Joan Haste, H. Rider Haggard [e book reader free .TXT] 📗

asked.

 

“At the end of the year,” she answered deliberately, “if I still

lived, I should be prepared to become the faithful wife of that man,

provided, of course, that he did not attempt to violate the agreement

in any particular. If he chose to do so, I should consider the bargain

at an end, and he would never see me again.”

 

“You want to drive a hard trade, Joan.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Rock—a very hard trade. But then, you see, the

circumstances are peculiar.”

 

“It’s too much: I can’t see my way to it, Joan!” he exclaimed

passionately.

 

“I am very glad to hear that, Mr. Rock,” she answered, with evident

relief; “and I think that you are quite right. Good-bye.”

 

Samuel picked up his hat, and rose as though to go.

 

“Shall you marry him?” he said hoarsely.

 

“I do not see that I am bound to answer that question, but it is

probable—for my own sake I hope so.”

 

He took a step towards the door, then turned suddenly and dashed his

hat down upon the carpet.

 

“I can’t let you go—to him,” he said, with an oath: “I’ll take you

upon your own terms, if you’ll give me no better ones.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Rock: but how am I to know that you will keep those terms?”

 

“I’ll swear it; but if I swear, when will you marry me?”

 

“Whenever you like, Mr. Rock. There’s a Bible on the table: if you are

in earnest, take it and swear, for then I know you will be afraid to

break your oath.”

 

Samuel picked up the book, and swore thus at her dictation:—

 

“I swear that for a year from the date of my marrying you, Joan Haste,

I will not attempt to see you, but will leave you to go your own way

without interfering with you by word or deed, upon the condition that

you have nothing to do with Sir Henry Graves” (this sentence was

Samuel’s own), “and that at the end of the year you come to me, to be

my faithful wife.” And, kissing the book, he threw it down upon the

table, adding, “And may God blast me if I break this oath! Do you

believe me now, Joan?”

 

“On second thoughts I am not sure that I do,” she answered, with a

contemptuous smile, “for I think that the man who can take that vow

would also break it. But if you do break it, remember what I tell you,

that you will see no more of me. After all, this is a free country,

Mr. Rock, and even though I become your wife in name, you cannot force

me to live with you. There is one more thing: I will not be married to

you in a church—I will be married before a registrar, if at all.”

 

“I suppose that you must have your own way about that too, Joan;

though it seems an unholy thing not to ask Heaven’s blessing on us.”

 

“There is likely to be little enough blessing about the business,” she

answered; then added, touched by compunction: “You had best leave it

alone, Mr. Rock; it is wicked and wrong from beginning to end, and you

know that I don’t love you, nor ever shall, and the reasons why I

consent to take you. Be wise and have done with me, and find some

other woman who has no such history who will care for you and make you

a good wife.”

 

“No, Joan; you have promised to do that much when the time comes, and

I believe you. No other woman could make up to me for the loss of you,

not if she were an angel.”

 

“So be it, then,” she answered: “but do not blame me if you are

unhappy afterwards, for I have warned you, and however much I may try

to do my duty, it can’t make up to a man for the want of love. And

now, when is it to be?”

 

“You said whenever I liked, Joan, and I say the sooner we are married

the sooner the year of waiting will be over. If it can be done,

to-morrow or the next day, as I think—for you have been living a long

while in this parish—I will go and make arrangements and come to tell

you.”

 

“Don’t do that, Mr. Rock, as I can’t talk any more to-day. Send me a

telegram. And now good-bye: I want to rest.”

 

He waited for her to offer him her hand, but she did not do so. Then

he turned and went, walking so softly that until she heard the front

door close Mrs. Bird was unaware that he had left the room above.

Throwing down her work she ran upstairs, for her curiosity would not

allow her to delay. Joan was seated on the sofa staring out of the

window, with wide-opened eyes and a face so set that it might have

been cut in stone.

 

“Well, my dear,” said the little woman, “so you have seen Sir Henry,

and I hope that you have arranged everything satisfactorily?”

 

Joan heard and smiled; even then it struck her as ludicrous that Mrs.

Bird could possibly mistake Samuel Rock for Sir Henry Graves. But she

did not attempt to undeceive her, since to do so would have involved

long explanations, on which at the moment she had neither the wish nor

the strength to enter; moreover, she was sure that Mrs. Bird would

disapprove of this strange contract and oppose it with all her force.

Even then, however, she could not help reflecting how oddly things had

fallen out. It was as though some superior power were smoothing away

every difficulty, and, to fulfil secret motives of its own, was

pushing her into this hideous and shameful union. For instance, though

she had never considered it, had not Mrs. Bird fatuously taken it for

granted that her visitor must be Sir Henry and no other man, it was

probable that she would have found means to prevent him from seeing

her, or, failing that, she would have put a stop upon the project by

communicating with Henry. For a moment Joan was tempted to tell her

the truth and let her do what she would, in the hope that she might

save her from herself. But she resisted the desire, and answered

simply,—

 

“Yes; I shall probably be married to-morrow or the next day.”

 

“To-morrow!” ejaculated Mrs. Bird, holding up her hands. “Why, you

haven’t even got a dress ready.”

 

“I can do without that,” she replied, “especially as the ceremony is

to be before a registrar.”

 

“Before a registrar, Joan! Why, if I did such a thing I should never

feel half married; besides, it’s wicked.”

 

“Perhaps,” said Joan, smiling again; “but it is the only fashion in

which it can be arranged, and it will serve our turn. By the way,

shall you mind if I come back to live here afterwards?”

 

“What, with your husband? There would not be room for two of you;

besides, a baronet could never put up with a place like this.”

 

“No, without him. We are going to keep separate for a year.”

 

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Mrs. Bird, “what an extraordinary

arrangement!”

 

“There are difficulties, Mrs. Bird, and it is the only one that we

could come to. I suppose that I can stay on?”

 

“Oh! yes, if you like; but really I do not understand.”

 

“I can’t explain just at present, dear,” said Joan gently. “I am too

tired; you will know all about it soon.”

 

“Well,” thought Mrs. Bird, as she left the room, “somehow I don’t like

that baronet so much as I did. It is all so odd and secret. I hope

that he doesn’t mean to deceive Joan with a false marriage and then to

desert her. I have heard of people of rank doing such things. But if

he tries it on he will have to reckon with me.”

 

That afternoon Joan received the following telegram: “All arranged.

Will call for you at two the day after to-morrow. Samuel.”