XL
We stayed there at the cave much longer than we had planned. At times, during the forenoon, conscience smote us.
“Really, they’ll be worrying about us on the yacht,” said I.
“They certainly will,” agreed Betty.
“They’re probably getting ready to sail now.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“We’re short-handed; I ought to be there to help,” I suggested.
“You certainly had.”
“We’d better go.”
“Oh, positively!”
And then we would forget the yacht, the imminence of sailing, everything but ourselves, for a considerable space of time. It was all a little too wonderful for me to grasp intelligently, but Betty accepted it with the woman’s genius for such events.
“I don’t understand?” I repeated over and over. “You had an understanding with George while I was knocked out, and George seemed satisfied?”
“Yes; he was satisfied, dear. He was fine enough and strong enough to be that.”
“And you told him?”
“Gardy, dearest! Are you going to make me say it after all?”
“Positively. You know I’m harsh and stern. You told George——”
She clasped her arms about me, pressing against my breast, surrender and victory in her upturned face.
“I told him that I loved you. I told him that if you didn’t get well—oh, my boy, my boy! I was so frightened over you!”
“And George was satisfied with that?”
“Yes. He had accepted it by that time. He said he knew it from the moment I came on board, and he knew now that it was all right.”
After a long silence I persisted—
“When did you know it, Betty?”
She blushed.
“I don’t want to tell you that.”
I coaxed.
“Well, if you must know, I—I hoped from the first time I saw you.”
“You hoped! Good heavens, dear! Why didn’t you let me know. I—I didn’t think I had a chance.”
She snuggled more closely against me.
“A girl can’t let a man know she loves him until she knows that he loves her, dear. You seemed so far away, and so—so disinterested. I was afraid you would never let me know that—that you loved me.”
“But I thought it was George, Betty. How could I let you know? You see, it’s the first time I’ve done this sort of thing.”
“You dear, blind darling!”
“I know it now. I see. But even now I can’t see why—I can hardly believe——”
“Tut, tut!” She pinched my arm. “Can he believe now? Isn’t it real, to him?”
“I’ve acted like a brute since the night we left the cave, Betty.”
“So you have. Deep, ’bysmal brute.”
“I was angry because you said you wouldn’t have George risking his life for you. I was jealous.”
“Oh, darling! Were you really? I gloat!” She rocked in my arms, then grew suddenly serious. “How could I have him risking his life for me, Gardy, dear? I had nothing to give him. I knew then it was you, you; only you. I had no right to let George make any sacrifice for me. You—you were my man. Do you understand?”
“Yes, dear.”
“And when I called to poor Captain Brack that night, Gardy, I was calling to you with my heart. Oh! I was calling so to you. Do you understand that, too, dear?”
“Yes; yes!”
“And—and you heard, too, didn’t you, Gardy? You heard me, because you wanted to hear it, didn’t you? And when we came here this morning, and you were so far-awayish I was afraid you hadn’t heard at all. Oh, Gardy!” She looked up with eyes wet from happiness too great to be suppressed. “Isn’t life good to us? Isn’t it glorious to be alive!”
“And think of it!” I whispered. “We’re just beginning a new life—just beginning to live.”
“Yes,” she whispered, stroking my hand. “We’ve explored the hidden country.” Then she quoted Brack: “‘There is hidden country in all of us; and until we’ve explored it we don’t know what it is to live.’”
A silence fell upon us as deep, as primitive as the aged rocks about us, and ere we spoke again the Wanderer’s siren had sent its strident notes down the fiord warning us that it was time for luncheon.
“I suppose we must really go now,” sighed Betty as we rose. “Ah, little cave, little cave!” she murmured, holding her arms out to it. “You are a good little cave and you helped make one little girl very, very happy.”
“And one man, too,” said I. “We’ll never forget this cave, dear, even though the time we spent in it was trying enough.”
“No, we’ll never forget it.” Her grave, gray eyes were looking far out over the fiord. “It has become a part of our lives. It has all become a part of our lives—our new lives, Gardy, dear. We’ll not forget any of it. Oh, dearest! Maybe sometime we can come back here, and camp here, and remember all these wonderful days. You’ll never forget them, and what they’ve meant to us, will you, dear?”
“We will neither of us forget as long as we live!”
“Yes. I feel that, too. We’ll look back, and we’ll never forget any of it, not even Captain Brack.”
“Poor Brack!”
She leaned against me, as if seeking shelter from the sad thoughts of the moment.
“Yes, we’ll even remember him with gladness, Gardy. Won’t we?”
“Yes. Of course. For it was Brack who led us into the hidden country.”
“Yes; yes.” She lifted her eyes slowly to mine. “He led us into the hidden country; but, oh, Gardy, my heart! What was it that led us out!”
And I answered with my lips, but not with words.
Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the December, 1916 issue of Adventure magazine.