“No, I came for a walk, my good woman, that’s all.”
“Then I won’t stop you, sir. Good night, sir.”
“Good night,” said Leslie; and feeling more content, he took out his cigar case, and after selecting one by feeling he went back into the coastguard’s station and struck a match.
He looked along the cliff path as the match flashed, and caught sight faintly of the old woman.
“Watching me anyhow,” he said to himself, as he lit his cigar. “Now, what can that old girl be doing here? She’s fifty-five if she’s a day, but if she is not courting and had a quarrel with her youthful lover, I’m what that old lady says that Van Heldre is—a Dutchman.”
He turned back along the path feeling comparatively light-hearted and restful. The long, dark, weary walk to tire himself was forgotten, and he went slowly back along the coastguard path, turning a little from time to time to gaze over his left shoulder at the brilliant planet which rose higher and higher over the glistening sea.
“Hope!” he said half aloud. “What a glorious word that is, and what a weary world this would be if there were none! Yes, I will hope.”
He walked slowly on, wondering whether Poll Perrow was watching and following him. Then he forgot all about her, for his thoughts were fixed upon the granite house across the estuary, and the sweet sad face of Louise half in shadow, half lit by the soft glow of the shaded lamp.
“Mr Vine will be back by now,” he said. “I might call in and ask how Van Heldre is to-night. It would he sociable, and I should see her, and let my manner show my sorrow for having grieved her and given her pain; and, is it possible to let her see that I am full of patient, abiding hope, that some day she will speak differently to the way in which she spoke to-day? Yes, a woman would read all that, and I will be patient and guarded now.”
It was astonishing how eager Duncan Leslie felt now to see what news George Vine had brought from Van Heldre’s; and with the beautiful absurdity of young men in his position, he never allowed himself to think that when he crossed the ferry he would be within a stone’s throw of the merchant’s house, and that all he need do was to knock and ask old Crampton or Mrs Van Heldre for the latest bulletin, which would be gladly given.