The Mistress of Shenstone by Florence Louisa Barclay (fantasy novels to read TXT) 📕

fell from a roar to a murmur, and drew away into the distance.

It was a warm June night, and very still.

Jim Airth had moved along the ledge to the further end, and sat swinging his legs over the edge. His content was so deep and full, that ordinary speech seemed impossible; and silence, a glad necessity. The prospect of that which the future might hold in store, made the ledge too narrow to contain him. He sought relief in motion, and swung his long legs out into the darkness.

It had not occurred to him to wonder at his companion's silence; the reason for his own had been so all-sufficient.

At length he struck a match to see the time; then, turning with a smile, held it so that its light illumined Myra.

She knelt upon the ledge, her hands pressed against the overhanging cliff, her head turned in terror away from it. Her face was ashen in its whiteness, and large tears rolled down her cheeks.

Jim dropped the match, with an exclamation, and groped towards her in the darkness.

"Dear!" he cried, "Oh, my dear, what is the matter? Selfish fool, that I am! I thought you were just resting, quiet and content."

His groping hands found and held her.

"Oh, Jim," sobbed Lady Ingleby, "I am so sorry! It is so weak and unworthy. But I am afraid I feel faint. The whole cliff seems to rock and move. Every moment I fear it will tip me over. And you seemed miles away!"

"You _are_ faint," said Jim Airth; "and no wonder. There is nothing weak or unworthy about it. You have been quite splendid. It is I who have been a thoughtless ass. But I can't have you fainting up here. You must lie down at once. If I sit on the edge with my back to you, can you slip along behind me and lie at full length, leaning against the cliff?"

"No, oh no, I couldn't!" whispered Myra. "It frightens me so horribly when you hang your legs over the edge, and I can't bear to touch the cliff. It seems worse than the black emptiness. It rocks to and fro, and seems to push me over. Oh, Jim! What shall I do? Help me, help me!"

"You _must_ lie down," said Jim Airth, between his teeth. "Here, wait a minute. Move out a little way. Don't be afraid. I have hold of you. Let me get behind you.... That's right. Now you are not touching the cliff. Let me get my shoulders firmly into the hollow at this end, and my feet fixed at the other. There! With my back rammed into it like this, nothing short of an earthquake could dislodge me. Now dear--turn your back to me and your face to the sea and let yourself go. You will not fall over. Do not be afraid."

Very gently, but very firmly, he drew her into his arms.

Tired, frightened, faint,--Lady Ingleby was conscious at first of nothing save the intense relief of the sense of his great strength about her. She seemed to have been fighting the cliff and resisting the gaping darkness, until she was utterly worn out. Now she yielded to his gentle insistence, and sank into safety. Her cheek rested against his rough coat, and it seemed to her more soothing than the softest pillow. With a sigh of content, she folded her hands upon her breast, and he laid one of his big ones firmly over them both. She felt so safe, and held.

Then she heard Jim Airth's voice, close to her ear.

"We are not alone," he said. "You must try to sleep, dear; but first I want you to realise that we are not alone. Do you know what I mean? _God is here._ When I was a very little chap, I used to go to a Dame-school in the Highlands; and the old dame made me learn by heart the hundred and thirty-ninth psalm. I have repeated parts of it in all sorts of places of difficulty and danger. I am going to say my favourite verses to you now. Listen. 'Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit? or whither shall I flee from Thy presence?... If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from Thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to Thee.... How precious also are Thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them. If I should count them they are more in number than the sand: when I awake I am still with Thee.'"

The deep voice ceased. Lady Ingleby opened her eyes. "I was nearly asleep," she said. "How good you are, Jim."

"No, I am not good," he answered. "I'm a tough chap, full of faults, and beset by failings. Only--if you will trust me, please God, I will never fail you. But now I want you to sleep; and I don't want you to think about me. I am merely a thing, which by God's providence is allowed to keep you in safety. Do you see that wonderful planet, hanging like a lamp in the sky? Watch it, while I tell you some lines written by an American woman, on the thought of that last verse."

And with his cheek against her soft hair, and his strong arms firmly round her, Jim Airth repeated, slowly, Mrs. Beecher Stowe's matchless poem:


"Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh,
When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee;
Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight,
Dawns the sweet consciousness--I am with Thee.

"Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows,
The solemn hush of nature newly born;
Alone with Thee, in breathless adoration,
In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.

"As in the dawning, o'er the waveless ocean,
The image of the morning star doth rest;
So in this stillness Thou beholdest only
Thine image in the waters of my breast.

"When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber
Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer;
Sweet the repose, beneath Thy wings o'ershadowing,
But sweeter still to wake, and find Thee there.

"So shall it be at last, in that bright morning
When the soul waketh, and life's shadows flee;
Oh, in that hour, fairer than daylight's dawning,
Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee!"


Jim Airth's voice ceased. He waited a moment in silence.

Then--"Do you like it?" he asked softly.

There was no answer. Myra slept as peacefully as a little child. He could feel the regular motion of her quiet breathing, beneath his hand.

"Thank God!" said Jim Airth, with his eyes on the morning star.


CHAPTER XIII


THE AWAKENING

When Lady Ingleby opened her eyes, she could not, for a moment, imagine where she was.

Dawn was breaking over the sea. A rift of silver, in the purple sky, had taken the place of the morning star. She could see the silvery gleam reflected in the ocean.

"Why am I sleeping so close to a large window?" queried her bewildered mind. "Or am I on a balcony?"

"Why do I feel so extraordinarily strong and rested?" questioned her slowly awakening body.

She lay quite still and considered the matter.

Then looking down, she saw a large brown hand clasping both hers. Her head was resting in the curve of the arm to which the hand belonged. A strong right arm was flung over and around her. All questionings were solved by two short words: "Jim Airth."

Lady Ingleby lay very still. She feared to break the deep spell of restfulness which held her. She hesitated to bring down to earth the exquisite sense of heaven, by which she was surrounded.

As the dawn broke over the sea, a wonderful light dawned in her eyes, a radiance such as had never shone in those sweet eyes before. "Dear God," she whispered, "am I to know the Best?"

Then she gently withdrew one hand, and laid it on the hand which had covered both.

"Jim," she said. "Jim! Look! It is day."

"Yes?" came Jim Airth's voice from behind her. "Yes? _What?_ COME IN!--Hullo! Oh, I say!"

Myra smiled into the dawning. She had already come through those first moments of astonished realisation. But Jim Airth awoke to the situation more quickly than she had done.

"Hullo!" he said. "I meant to keep watch all the time; but I must have slept. Are you all right? Sure? No cramp? Well, I have a cramp in my left leg which will make me kick down the cliff in another minute, if I don't move it. Let me help you up.... That's the way. Now you sit safely there, while I get unwedged.... By Jove! I believe I've grown into the cliff, like a fossil ichthyosaurus. Did you ever see an ichthyosaurus? Doesn't it seem years since you said: 'And who is Davy Jones?' Don't you want some breakfast? I suppose it's about time we went home."

Talking gaily all the time, Jim Airth drew up his long limbs, rubbing them vigorously; stretched his arms above his head; then passed his hand over his tumbled hair.

"My wig!" he said. "What a morning! And how good to be alive!"

Myra stole a look at him. His eyes were turned seaward. The same dawn-light was in them, as shone in her own.

"Don't you want breakfast?" said Jim Airth, and pulled out his watch.

"I do," said Myra, gaily. "And now I can venture to tell you what delicious home-made bread I had for tea. What time is it, Jim?"

"Half past three. In a few minutes the sun will rise. Watch! Did you ever before see the dawn? Is it not wonderful? Always more of pearl and silver than at sunset. Look how the narrow rift has widened and spread right across the sky. The Monarch of Day is coming! See the little herald clouds, in livery of pink and gold. Now watch where the sea looks brightest. Ah!... There is the tip of his blood-red rim, rising out of the ocean. And how quickly the whole ball appears. Now see the rippling path of gold and crimson, a royal highway on the waters, right from the shore below us, to the footstool of his brilliant Majesty.... A new day has begun; and we have not said 'Good-morning.' Why should we? We did not say 'Good-night.' How ideal it would be, never to say 'Good-morning'; and never to say 'Good-night.' The night would be always 'good', and so would the morning. All life would be one grand crescendo of good--better--best. What? Have we found the Best? Ah, hush! I did not mean to say that yet.... Are you ready for the climb down? No, I can't allow any peeping over, and considering. If you really feel afraid of it, I will run to Tregarth as quickly as possible, rouse the sleeping village, bring ropes and men, and haul you up from the top."

"I absolutely decline to be 'hauled up from the