No; Gerald has not kissed her. He wished to very badly, but something in his heart--a strong sense of honor maybe--prevented his doing so until he had made his position clear to her. She was so simple, so innocent, so virginal that she knew nothing of passion, or of life, or of that world wherein women marry and are given in marriage. With an almost absurd particularity the young man desired that, before being kissed, she should learn that he was her true lover, that he wished to marry her, that he greatly desired to enter into a lifelong companionship with her. To act otherwise was to bind her unknowingly to him. When she understood what love meant, and was ready to accept him as her husband, then could he seal this acceptance with a kiss. For he knew full well that such a kiss would awaken the woman in her; would reveal life to her soul. A caress meant so much, that it was little wonder he restrained himself from following too hurriedly the desire of his heart.
And perhaps it was that he found her innocence and friendly acceptance of his presence too delightful to transmute with unconsidered haste friendship into love. Why spoil this idyll of lilies by presenting her with the red ripe roses of love? The romance was so charming, so dreamlike, that the poetic instinct of the poet forbade him to rouse her. Mavis was indeed the Sleeping Beauty, slumbering within her enchanted palace, and he, the fated Prince--as it would seem he was from his finding of the cylinder--would in time awaken her with a kiss. But the hour had not yet struck. When it did, many things would come to pass.
In the first place, Mavis would no longer be contented to live in the Pixy's House, ignorant of life. She would wish to come out into the world, even before the age of twenty-one, and would not wait longer for her guardian's permission. Such a desire would mean a meeting and an explanation with Rebb, and Gerald, as yet, did not see how to bring this about. He guessed that when he spoke to the Major he would be told of the homicidal mania with which Mavis was said to be tainted. It would be vain for him to decline to believe in such a taint. If Rebb insisted that it was so he could refuse to allow Haskins to marry his ward, particularly as she was under age. Then again, if Rebb guessed that the young man wished to marry the girl, he might very easily remove her secretly to a new hiding-place, and Gerald would lose her for ever. Hasty action was not to be thought of, and it would be best to wait until he could learn why Rebb secluded the girl in that ruinous house.
Haskins duly returned to the Devon Maid, and found Geary as cheerful and obsequious as usual. But now that Gerald was enlightened as to the connection of the negro with the Pixy's House he found it difficult to tolerate these false smiles. Piercing the mask of Geary's good humor he saw in him a dangerous man, gripping a yellow-handled knife which he was ready to use, should it be necessary. Haskins no longer wondered at the negro's presence amongst these lonely hills. He knew that he had not drifted there, but had been made landlord of the inn to act as a dragon. And a very dangerous dragon he might prove to be, should he gain wind of Gerald's philanderings with Mavis.
Geary, however, showed no signs that he suspected anything, but waited as usual on his guest. While at dinner Gerald seized the opportunity to tell his landlord that he contemplated stopping at Silbury on the ensuing night. "I have to run up to London on the day after to-morrow," said Haskins, with feigned carelessness, "and if I sleep at Silbury I can catch the eight-o'clock train."
"I could dribe you dere, sah, for dat train," said Geary, beaming, and evidently pleased at Haskins' announcement.
"No, my good fellow, that would mean my getting up at five in the morning. I prefer to sleep at Silbury--at the Prince's Head Hotel."
"Will you come back here, sah?"
"Oh yes, in two or three days, but only for a time, Geary. I have to go on to St. Ives, you know."
"I shall be sorry to lose you, sah?"