He caught the outstretched hands in his and drew her to her feet.
“Don’t make it harder for me, dear. God knows it’s hard enough,” he said unsteadily. “I love you. I want you—more than anything in heaven and earth I want you—but I’ve got to leave you. Help me to do the right thing, Marny. Help me to go, now, while I have the strength.” But with a broken little cry she clung to him, her eyes beseeching.
“I can’t, I can’t! I’m not strong like you. I can’t let you go yet—not altogether—not back to the desert. Stay—only stay till we leave,” she pleaded, “it won’t be long, only a few weeks—”
“My dear, what help will it be if I do stay?” he said wearily. “It will only make it harder for both of us.” But frantically she urged him. “Please, please,” she entreated. “Oh, I can’t explain—I don’t know what I feel myself—but there seems to be something awful coming nearer and nearer to me and I’m frightened—I’m frightened. If I could know you were in Algiers it would make it easier—I shouldn’t feel so—alone. Gervas, if you love me stay till we go.”
If he loved her! He clenched his hands to keep them from her and turned away with a heavy sigh. “Must I prove my love?” he said sadly. A sob broke from her. Did he think she doubted? Why was she such a coward as to ask this thing of him! Humbly she went to him begging his forgiveness but with a quick gesture of distress he stopped her.
“There is nothing to forgive,” he said gently, “there can be no misunderstanding possible between us, dear. If it will help you, if my being in Algiers will make it easier for you, I will stay until you go. But more I cannot do. This has got to be the end, Marny. We’ve got to say goodbye to each other. I mustn’t see you again—I daren’t see you again.”
A deadly faintness came over her. Numbly she felt him take her hands and hold them crushed against his face. And through the surging in her ears she heard his voice, far off and muffled as though coming from some great distance.
“My dear, my dear—God keep you, now and always.”
And then she knew that he was gone. She struggled to move, to conquer the inertia that seemed rooting her to the ground. Only to see him again—to catch one last glimpse—
Tears were raining down her face as she stumbled to the edge of the little path and, screened by the trees, looked down on the roadway beneath. With her hands pressed over her lips to stifle the sobs that were choking her she watched him standing beside his men till the little troop vanished in a cloud of dust along the Blidah road and, left alone, he leaped on to his own horse and sent him at a reckless gallop in the opposite direction. Then a merciful blackness came over her and she fell senseless amongst the tangled ferns.