The negro withdrew quietly, and Haskins reflected on the persistent way in which the man questioned him. More than ever did he mistrust Adonis, and now with stronger reason, for he felt certain that the negro was connected in some way with Major Rebb, who in his turn was assuredly connected with the Pixy's House and its inmates. If Geary discovered that Gerald had met with the Enchanted Princess, he might officiously inform Rebb, when there would be trouble. Without doubt the Major was behaving illegally in shutting up a perfectly sane girl, and therefore would not create a public scandal. Nevertheless, if he knew that Haskins had penetrated his secret, he might remove Mavis to another hiding-place. Gerald could not risk that, until he knew more, and again had met the girl. He looked upon himself as the knight-errant of distressed beauty, and it behooved him to be wary in his dealings with a very difficult and somewhat dangerous matter.
After supper Haskins lighted his pipe and seated himself by the open window to think over matters. Mrs. Geary entered and removed the remnants of the meal in her dumb way. After placing a cup of coffee on a small table at her guest's elbow she withdrew, and he was left to his reflections. These began with a consideration of Mavis' beauty of person and charm of conversation. It can thus be guessed that Haskins was in love--genuinely in love, and for the first time in his life.
As Bulwer Lytton says: "There are many counterfeits, but only one Eros!" This was Haskins' experience. He had loved in an earthly way many times in his time, and several times had mistaken the false for the true. A fastidious mind had saved him from the commercial passion of the ordinary man, and he had usually approached women in the belief that they were goddesses. This was hard on the sex, as the attitude exacts too much perfection in a world of temptation. Consequently Gerald had been deceived several times, and therefore had guarded himself carefully against the tender passion. Then he met with Charity Bird, and,--in common with many another man--fell in love with her physical charms. But in spite of her beauty, which he grew to admire as he would that of a picture, Haskins failed to find in her the wife and helpmate his exacting nature demanded. Outwardly Charity was all that he could desire, but inwardly she was less attractive, being matter-of-fact when she was not silly. She might suit Tod, but she did not match with Gerald, so he withdrew with little regret, and for some months, he had been heart-whole and fancy-free.
Now, in an unexpected and extraordinary way, the young man had met with another Charity Bird, more perfect than the original. Mavis was as beautiful in looks, and yet was higher in mind. From the strange upbringing to which she had subjected she looked at life--what little she knew of it--in a poetical way. Yet judging by her remarks on cooking and embroidering and gardening, she had a fund of common knowledge, directed by common-sense. It was too early as yet to pronounce authoritatively on her capabilities and trend of thought: but the spiritual power manifested in her personality appealed strongly to the lover who had loved her counterfeit. Here indeed was the true Eros; a deity, who could be worshiped without disappointment. Gerald, with less reflection than he usually gave to his decisions, determined to be a faithful attendant at the shrine of this divinity.
Having thus settled his attitude towards the girl, with the impetuosity of a young man and a true lover, Haskins began to think over Miss Durham's position. In spite of the hideous rumor, reported by Geary, he believed, from personal observation, that the girl was quite sane. Rebb, who was her acknowledged guardian, had apparently set such gossip afloat so that no one might comment upon the seclusion of the girl. Guarded in this way by public fear, which had been erected by a lying tale. Mavis might continue to dwell for the rest of her life amidst the ruins of the Pixy's House, closely watched by the Florentine and spied upon, in a less degree--as Gerald shrewdly suspected--by Geary, who was probably a creature of Major Rebb's.
Now, the question was this: Why did Rebb shut up so pretty and unsophisticated a creature in conventual solitude? She had committed no crime, and, from what little Haskins had seen of her, she had no instinct which would make her commit one. There must be some other reason and a strong one for the odd behavior of Rebb. This reason Haskins determined to learn, howsoever much Geary and his employer might desire to conceal it.
Also there were other questions to which the young man desired answers. Why was Mavis so similar to Charity in looks? Why had she not been taught to read and write? Why was Geary--as Haskins verily believed,--posted at the Devon Maid to keep his one sinister eye on her? Gerald could not have sworn in a court of law that the negro was connected in any way with the Pixy's House secret; but he had an intuitive feeling, from the man's behavior towards Major Rebb, and by his eager statement of a false rumor, that in some manner the landlord had to do with the matter. Haskins, therefore, placed himself on his guard and by a careless demeanor, and apparent frankness he succeeded in lulling Geary's suspicions as to his true reasons for postponing his journey to St. Ives. It was Geary who could answer, at least, some of the questions which vexed Gerald's soul, and he lingered to hear them. Unfortunately he did not know how to inquire without betraying his secret visit to the Pixy's House.
Two or three days went by, and Haskins regularly took his way to the river, to seek the fairy palace. After that first attempt to navigate so stubborn a stream as the Ruddle he used the canoe very little. It was easier and more expeditious to take the highway to the moors and then strike into the secret path which led to Mother Carey's Peace Pool. This Haskins did, and then would paddle across to the landing place, whence he could gain the summit of the cliff. Here he would climb the wall to hide behind the beech-tree, and hither Mavis would come to chatter to her "Fairy Prince," as she still continued to call him. But owing to the presence of Bellaria the young man did not dare to descend into the grounds. Any moment might have brought about discovery had he risked so much, for, according to Mavis, the Florentine was a keen and restless dragon.
"She's afraid of something," said Mavis, one day, when Gerald questioned her about the woman. "I don't know what it is; but she is afraid."
"Why do you think that?"