Nestle, in his shadows, uttered a little stifled ejaculation, which Gilead heard but disregarded. He had to make an effort; but he made it courageously, and, unwrapping his parcel, displayed a jewel case, which, being opened, revealed a fine pearl necklace with a diamond clasp.
“Indeed?” he said, with a show of unconcern. “Then the name is not so remarkable a one as we supposed? Or is it possible that the romancer himself adopted it from the living fact? Well, in any case, my quest having resulted in barrenness need not be discussed further. Let us turn to a more profitable matter. I am not intending to break my promise, and I will not be the first to speak. At the same time I am going to ask you, Miss Halifax, to accept provisionally this little token of my most grateful regard.”
She came away quite steadily from her support, and took the case gently from his hand. Her lips were brilliant; the lids of her eyes were flushed; she bore her shame like a fallen goddess.
“They are lovely,” she said. “How generous, how loyal, how noble you are! But you will take this away with you when you go, and keep it for someone worthier of your faith.”
“Vera!” cried Nestle hoarsely.
She took no notice of him, but, placing the jewels softly on the table, came and stood before her employer. And then he knew that the shadow he had dreaded and resisted so long was about to fall and overwhelm him.
“How can you still pretend to believe in us?” she said, in a low even voice. “How can you bear to remain so staunch against your own inner conviction? From the moment I knew that you had seen that advertisement and the name, I knew that the end was come. And it is come, though still not, in your unswerving chivalry, at your instance. The sentence shall be mine. Your great heart shall not suffer any longer this torture of a trust that dies so hard. I will tear it out with my own hands—I daresay because its pain hurts me too, and not from any moral heroism. Mr Balm, there is no such person as Winsom Wyllie; there never was such a person, except in the silly story from which I borrowed the name for my own purposes, never dreaming that the haphazard choice would recoil upon my head like this. He, and that scientific father, and the butterfly-hunting, and the will and the persecution were all pure concoctions from beginning to end. I have been in Switzerland, but only with my brother Herbert here. Yes, he is my brother, and we are liars and impostors from first to last.”
He stirred, with a suggestion of unsteadiness, and stiffening himself, walked to the window and stood looking out of it, his back turned to her. She put a hand one moment to her eyes, and, following, spoke on in her resolute self-abasement:—
“If you will listen, it is right that you should be told all. I plead, and am going to plead nothing whatever in extenuation, save that when I elaborated that wicked lie, my education of the heart had not even been begun. I have learnt much, travelled far since then. A whole continent seems to lie between my present and my past understandings, and looking across it I see the track of bleeding feet, multitudes of them, wandering this way, and I shiver and hide my face to think how, of all the deceits and hypocrisies they include, my own vile shadow, far off over the waste, figures for the first and worst.”
She put a hand to her bosom, panting a little. Her brother came creeping out of the darkness, and, standing near her, spoke for the first time.