4
For over an hour Trent walked. When he returned to camp he found Dana Charteris sitting where he had left her. Masein had made a fire, and the leaping flames kindled a glow in the meshes of her red-gold hair. Eyes dark with misery met his—moist eyes.... The cobra-bracelet glinted on his wrist.
"I was abrupt a while ago," he announced, halting before her, head slightly lowered—as a man stands before a cathedral-image. "I am sorry. I was worried. I shouldn't have left as I did, nor should I have stayed away so long, but I wanted to be alone—to solve the problem. I think I have."
She smiled faintly. "Don't apologize, Arnold Trent. You've done enough for me." She paused. "You must hate me," she pressed on after a moment. "First I deceive you; then I fall sick and delay you; and when I recover, I am a stone about your neck." She laughed a mirthless little laugh. "What are you going to do with me?"
He made a gesture. "You were right. I haven't a guide to send back with you, and you can't go alone. The nearest Government post is Kwanglu—that's at least a two-days' journey. I can't afford to delay any longer. Yet if I take you with me and anything happens to you—" He hesitated, then finished: "I'd never forgive myself. So what am I to do?"
She got up, and her eyes shone with the warmth of the fire.
"I—I might be able to help you," she suggested rather timidly, as though afraid he would scorn the idea. "I've hindered you so much that the least I can do is to try to make amends. Oh, I realize what you're thinking, that I am a woman and would only be a burden, but—"
"No," he interrupted, "I wasn't thinking that—I was thinking of you. God knows, from a selfish standpoint, I would be glad enough for your companionship! But aside from the physical danger, there are other things to reckon with. That's the trouble with people; they don't consider the future. And if we come out of this alive, there's a future. It's all right for me; but you—you're a woman. And the public doesn't credit any man with honor, or any woman with self-respect, if they're thrown together under other than conventional circumstances. Don't you see what people will say when they learn of it? And they will learn of it—and you can't ignore their opinions. They couldn't understand, damn them; rather, they wouldn't.... You see?" Another pause, and he repeated: "You see?"
She nodded. "Yet I'm here"—helplessly.
"Yet you're here," he echoed, with a gesture of futility.
He strode away; turned back at a sudden thought.
"Of course, there's one thing I've overlooked in my masculine egotism. It just occurred to me that you—you might be afraid to go with me."
"No," she interposed very quietly—and to him the world seemed to expand to greater dimensions. "No. I am not afraid." That was all. Yet it thrilled him.
After a few seconds he resumed.
"You must promise to do as I say; and without asking questions. I've given my word, you know. Before we reach Tali-fang you'll have to be fixed up like a Hindu. You can be my brother, or anything you like. I'll teach you a few more Hindustani words—necessary words. You won't have to talk much, if any. There will be hardships—many—but—" He furrowed his hair. "There's no alternative."
Then, glancing down at the bracelet, he took it off.
"Here—"
"Won't you keep it?" she asked. "I sent it with a plea for succor, and you came. According to the custom, you are my bracelet-brother, sworn to honor and protect. So won't you keep it, as Humayun, the Great Mogul, kept the bracelet of Kurnavati, the Rani of Chitor?"
For answer he slipped the golden circlet over his hand. The girl, with a swift smile, turned and went into the tent. And, being a man, he could not know it was for the express purpose of crying.