Then Richard, who was a man first and a swimmer after, succumbed to the enchantment of the brown being before him and began again the vehement avowals which had never been quite completed to his satisfaction in the summer-house.
“Say you will marry me, Jerry,” he persisted. “I want you and I will have you! I won’t let you go! Will you marry me, Jerry? Will you? Will you?” with much unoriginal repetition of the same sort.
“No!” she said. He persisted in asking; but she said, “No!” Nothing daunted, he began all over again and grew even a shade more insistent.
The world and its ugly sneer began to fade away, but she fought against her growing irresolution. It was folly, but it was her best instinct, too. Every right marriage has in its history somewhere the struggle that precedes surrender. And years of Virginia tradition had put the seal of necessity on this final struggle. A Wells would force the tribute of conquest and capture!
“No!” she said vehemently. “No!” He would not be answered and took a step nearer, but she put out a hand as if to ward him off. “No!” she cried, almost hysterically, plunged into the water and struck off into the Lake.
He followed quickly. She was aiming straight towards the farther shore, and going forward at a dangerous pace. Fear seized him. With terrific strokes he caught up to her and begged her to come back, but she shook her head wildly and went desperately on. He promised that he would never pester her again, but she was blind to persuasion. So he kept at her side, although it tested his powers, swimming in silence, and watching every stroke with the keenest anguish.
Shortly she slowed up, and later turned on her back and floated. He waited until he thought the rest had brought back her strength and then coaxed her to return. For answer she began swimming onward again, this time with her long easy sweep; and he followed without a word.
She was in no condition for a distance swim. The day had worn her down, and the night’s excitement had not helped; but she summoned her will and swung steadily on. On, on, on, they went while shore faded off and the great white moon filled the night.
Within a hundred yards of the shore she faltered. He reached quickly for her, but she cried out incoherently and struck at him. The last few yards was an agonizing attempt to reach the shallow water. She was threshing wildly, and calling on him blindly to “keep away!”—although he had not offered again to touch her—when her foot reached bottom; she tried to stand but could not, and fell upon her face. He picked her up, but she pushed him aside and stumbled on to the shore, where she dropped prone upon the grass, thoroughly spent.
He did not know what to say, fearing that his words might do further damage, so he sat mutely beside her and listened to her hysteric weeping, and suffered torments.