“You need not have any fear. You will be amply protected. With Colonel Martyn of the party, I defy any one to be late for anything.”
He kept his eyes fixed on the opal waters, and stood up as stiffly as if he had to receive the shock of a charge. Who to look at him would have guessed that he felt as if all were lost? The ages have at least taught man to keep his face like a mask.
“You are very good. Hugh will—will look after you. It is impossible for me to stay.”
He stammered, he did not know what he said, but he had not yielded, he was sure he had not yielded.
The victor is too often represented as a fine fellow, marching away self-contentedly to the sound of his own trumpets. Much more frequently he is bruised and battered, nobody giving him so much as a cheer; while his own discontented ideal scornfully holds up a mirror that he may not deceive himself with vain imaginings. This a hero!—Poor mud-bespattered figure! Just scraped through a conflict without utter overthrow, standing upright, it may be, but in what condition! Nothing to be proud of here. No subject for triumphal arches or laurel wreaths, which, indeed, became ludicrous even in imagination. Fit only to creep away, bind up his wounds as best he may, and cleanse himself from the mud-stains, and say as little as possible of what has happened. And yet a victor.
Wareham wandered about that day, seeing little of the others, and especially avoiding Hugh. The misty rain continued, grey and silver predominated everywhere about the fjord, but the mountains behind the little village reared purple glooms into the cloud regions, and the greens were vivid. The whole party were to go on board the steamer which came in at seven or eight in the evening, and to separate at Vadheim at one in the morning.
By the time they started the rain had ceased, and there were clear lights about, though no gorgeous pomp of sunset. A chill was in the air, suggesting wraps, and if adventurous spirits made excursions to the upper deck, they soon retreated to the heap of luggage which offered seats and comparative shelter. Anne had taken up a position between the professor and the elderly lady. Hugh could not get at her, and mooned about disconsolate. He went to Mrs Martyn, at last, in sheer despair; she laughed at him.
“How many days has your satisfaction lasted, Mr Forbes? And do not copy-books assure us that happiness is a shy goddess? Be indifferent. That is your only chance of cajoling her to stay.”
“As well say, be some one else. Won’t you help me?”
“I would not if I could. Anne is charming as she is. Married, I don’t know which would be the most miserable—she or her husband.”