JOAN HASTE by H. RIDER HAGGARD (e reader comics TXT) 📕

"I understand, Joan, that you are not too ill to see Sir Henry Graves; surely, then, you can listen to me for a few minutes; and as for my being cowardly, I do not care if I am--though why a man should be called a coward because he comes to ask the woman he loves to marry him, I can't say."

"To marry you!" exclaimed Joan, turning pale and sinking back into her chair; "I thought that we had settled all that long ago, Mr. Rock, out by the Bradmouth meres."

"We spoke of it, Joan, but we did not settle it. We both grew angry, and said and did things which had best be forgotten. You swore that you would never marry me, and I swore that you should live to beg me to marry you, for you drove me mad with your cruel words. We were wrong, both of us; so let's wipe all that out, for I believe I shall marry you, Joan, and I know that you will never plead with me to do it, nor would I wish it so. Oh! hear me, hear me. You don't know that I have been filled with all the tortures of hell; I have thought of you by day and dreamed of you by night, till I began to believe my brain would burst and that I must go mad, as I shall do if I lose you altogether. At last I heard that you had been ill and got your address, and now once more I come to pray you to take pity on me and to promise to be my wife. If only you will do that, I swear to you I will be the best husband that ever a woman had: yes, I will make myself your slave, and you shall want for nothing which I can give you. I do not ask your love, I do not even ask that you should treat me kindly. Deal with me as you will, be bitter and scornful and trample me in the dirt, and I will be content if only you will let me live where I can see you day by day. This isn't a new thing with me, Joan--it has gone on for years; and now it has come to this, that either I must get the promise of you or go mad. Then do not drive me away, but have mercy as you hope for mercy. Pity me and consent." And with an inarticulate sound that was half a sob and half a groan, he flung himself upon his knees and, clasping his hands, looked up at her with a rapt face like that of a man lost in earnest prayer.

Joan listened, and as she listened a new and terrible idea crept into her mind. Here, if she chose to take it--if she could bring herself to take it--was an easy path out of her difficulty: here was that which would effectually cure Henry of any desire to ruin himself by marrying her, and would put her beyond the reach of temptation. The thought made her faint and sick, but still she entertained it, so desperate was the case between her love and what she conceived to be her duty. If it could be done--with certain safeguards and reservations--why should it not be done? This man was in a humour to consent to anything; it was but a question of the sacrifice of her miserable self, whereby, so they said and so she believed, she would save her lover. In a minute she had made up her mind: at least she would sound the man and put the matter to proof.

"Do not kneel to me," she said, breaking the silence; "you do not know what sort of woman it is to whom you are grovelling. Get up, and now listen. I love another man; and if I love another man, what do you think that my feelings are to you?"

"I think that you hate me, but I do not mind that--in time you would come to care for me."

"I doubt it, Mr. Rock; I cannot change my heart so easily. Do you know what terms I stand on with this man?"

"If you mean Sir Henry Graves, I have heard plenty of all that, and I am ready to forgive you."

"You are very generous, Mr. Rock, but perhaps I had better explain a little. I think it probable that, unless I change my mind, within a week I shall be married to Sir Henry Graves."

"Oh! my God!" he groaned; "I never thought that he would marry you."

"Well, as it happens he will--that is, if I consent. And now do you know why?"

He shook his head.

"Then I will tell you, so that you may understand exactly about the woman whom you wish to make your wife. Do not think that I am putting myself in your power, for in the first place, if you use my words against me I shall deny them, and in the second I shall be married to Sir Henry and able to defy you. This is the reason, Mr. Rock:" and she bent forward and told him all in a few words, speaking in a low, clear voice.

Samuel's face turned livid as he heard.

"The villain!" he muttered. "Oh! I should like to kill him. The villain--the villain!"

"Don't talk in that kind of way, Mr. Rock, or, if you wish to do so, leave me. Why should you call him a villain, seeing that he loves me as I love him, and is ready to marry me to-morrow? Are you prepared to do as much--now? Stop before you answer: you have not heard all the terms upon which, even if you should still wish it, I might /possibly/ consent to become your wife, or my reason for even considering the matter. First as to the reason; it would be that I might protect Sir Henry Graves from the results of his own good feeling, for it cannot be to his advantage to burden his life with me, and unless I take some such step, or die, I shall probably marry him. Now as to the condition upon which I might consent to marry anybody else--you, for instance, Mr. Rock: it is that I should be left alone to live here or wherever I might select for a year from the present date, unless of my own free will I chose to shorten the time. Do you think that you, or any other man, Mr. Rock, could consent to take a woman upon such terms?"

"What would happen at the end of the year?" he 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