Н. Самуэльян - Лучшие романы Томаса Майна Рида / The Best of Thomas Mayne Reid

She had never said she loved him – never said a word that could give him the right to reproach her. On her side there was no repudiation, since there had been no compromise. It was unjust to condemn her – cruel to defy her, as he had done.

That she loved another – was that a crime?

Herbert now knew that she loved another – was as sure of it as that he stood upon the Jumbé Rock. That interrupted tableau had left him no loop to hang a doubt on. The relative position of the parties proclaimed the purpose – a proposal.

The kneeling lover may not have obtained his answer; but who could doubt what that answer was to have been? The situation itself proclaimed consent.

Bitter as were these reflections, Herbert made an effort to subdue them. He resolved, if possible, to stifle his spleen; and, upon the ruin of his hopes, restore that relationship – the only one that could now exist between himself and his cousin – friendship.

With a superhuman effort he succeeded; and this triumph of virtue over spite, backed by the strongest inclinings of the heart, for a moment solaced his spirit, and rendered it calmer.

Alas! that such triumph can be only temporary. The struggle upon which he was entering was one in which no man has ever succeeded. Love undenied, may end in friendship; but love thwarted or unreciprocated, never!

+++“Now, where the swift Rhone [527] cleaves its way between

Heights, that appear as lovers who have parted

In hate, whose mining depths so intervene,

That they can meet no more, though broken-hearted;

Though in their souls, which thus each other thwarted,

Love was the very root of the fond rage

Which blighted their life’s bloom – ”

Herbert Vaughan was perhaps too young – too inexperienced in the affairs of the heart – to have ever realised the sentiment so expressed; else would he have desisted from his idle attempt, and surrendered himself at once to the despair that was certain to succeed it.

Innocent – perhaps happily so – of the knowledge of these recondite truths, he yielded to the nobler resolve – ignorant of the utter impracticability of its execution.

Chapter 15

An Encounter of Eyes

While Herbert Vaughan was making these reflections, the light began to re-dawn – gradually, as it were, raising the veil from the face of his cousin. He could not resist turning to gaze upon it. During the interval of the obscurity, a change had passed over the countenance of the young girl, both in its hue and expression. Herbert noticed the change. It even startled him. Before, and during the unhappy dialogue, he had looked upon a flushed cheek, a fiery eye, an air proud and haughty, with all the indices of defiant indifference.

All were gone: Kate’s eye still sparkled, but with a milder light; a uniform pallor overspread her cheeks, as if the eclipse had robbed them of their roses; and the proud expression had entirely disappeared, replaced by one of sadness, or rather of pain.

Withal, the face was lovely as ever – lovelier, thought Herbert.

Why that sudden transformation? What had caused it? Whence sprang that painful thought, that was betraying itself in the pale cheek and lips compressed and quivering? Was it the happiness of another that was making that misery? Smythje seemed happy – very happy, to judge from his oft-repeated “Haw! haw!”

Was this the cause of that expression of extreme sadness that displayed itself on the countenance of his cousin?

So did Herbert interpret it.

Making a fresh effort to subdue within himself the same spirit which he believed to be actuating her, he remained silent – though unable to withdraw his glance from that lorn but lovely face.

While still gazing upon it, a sigh escaped him. It could scarce have been heard by her who stood nearest; nor hers by him: for she had also sighed, and at the same instant of time! Perhaps both were moved by some secret sympathetic instinct?

Herbert had succeeded in obtaining another momentary triumph over his emotions: and was once more on the eve of uttering words of friendship, when the young girl looked up and reciprocated his gaze. It was the first time during the interview their eyes had met: for up to that moment Kate had only regarded her cousin with furtive glances.

For some seconds they stood face to face – each gazing into the eyes of the other, as if both were the victims of some irresistible fascination.

Not a word passed between them – their very breathing was stilled. Both seemed to consider the time too important for speech: for they were seeking in one another’s eyes – those faithful mirrors of the soul – those truest interpreters of the heart – the solution of that, the most interesting enigma of their existence.

This silent interrogation was instinctive as mutual – uncorrupted by a shadow of coquetry. It was bold and reckless as innocence itself – unregarding outward observation. What cared they for the eclipse? What for the sun or the moon, or the waning stars? What for the universe itself? Less – far less for those human forms that chanced to be so near them!

Drew they gratification from that mutual gaze? They must – else why did they continue it?

Not for long: not for long were they allowed. An eye was upon them – the eye of that beautiful demon.

Ah! fair Judith, thy flirtation has proved a failure! The ruse has recoiled upon thyself!

The golden sunlight once more fell upon the Jumbé Rock, revealing the forms of four individuals – all youthful – all in love, though two only were beloved!

The returning light brought no joy to Judith Jessuron.

It revealed to her that glance of mutual fascination, which, with a quick, sharp cry, she had interrupted.

A bitter embarrassment seemed all at once to have seized upon her proud spirit, and dragged it into the dust.

Skilled in the silent language of the eyes, she had read in those of Herbert Vaughan, as he bent them upon his cousin, an expression that stung her, even to the utterance of a scream!

From that moment the flirtation with Smythje ceased; and the Cockney exquisite was forsaken in the most unceremonious manner left to continue his telescopic observations alone.

The conversation was no longer dos y dos [528] , but at once changed to a trio ; and finally restored to its original quartette form – soon, however, to be broken up by an abrupt separation of the parties.

The Jewess was the first to propose departure – the first to make it. She descended from the Jumbé Rock in a less lively mood than that in which she had climbed up to it; inwardly anathematising the eclipse, and the fortune that had guided her to the choice of such an ill-starred observatory.

Perhaps, had the interview been prolonged, the cousins might have separated with a better understanding of each other than was expressed in that cold, ceremonious adieu with which they parted.

Smythje and Kate Vaughan were once more alone upon the summit of the rock; and the supercilious lover was now free to continue the declaration.

One might suppose that he would have instantly dropped back upon his knees, and finished the performance so vexatiously interrupted.

Not so, however. The spirit of Smythje’s dream seemed equally to have undergone a change; as if he, too, had seen something .

His air of high confidence had departed, as also the climax on which he had counted: for the sun’s disc was now quite clear of the eclipse, and the pretty speeches, intended for an anterior time, would now have been pointless and inappropriate.

Whether it was this that influenced him, or a presentiment that the offer of his heart and hand might just then stand some chance of a rejection, can never be known: since Smythje, who alone could divulge it, has left no record of the reason.