"I must do it," he was musing to himself now, as they sat in the shade when the light luncheon was over, and while around them were all the languorous accompaniments of a tropic summer day, with, also, the cloying, balmy odours of the tropic summer atmosphere; "I must do it, must take her into my confidence, obtain her opinion as well as her father's. She can see as far as any one, as she showed plainly enough by her manner when I told her about my ride on that confounded horse. She might in this case perhaps, see something, divine something of that which at present is hidden from her father and from me."
Yet, although he had by now arrived at the determination to impart to her all that now so agitated him, he also resolved that he would not do so until he had taken her father's opinion on the subject.
"He will not refuse, I imagine," he thought to himself. "Why should he? Especially when I represent to him that, by excluding her from the various confidences which he and I must exchange on the matter--since he has evidently thrown himself heart and soul into unravelling the mystery--we shall also be dooming her to a great many hours of dulness and lack of companionship."
But this, perhaps, savoured a little of sophistry--although probably imperceptibly so to himself--since it must be undoubted that he also recognised how great a lack of her companionship he was likewise dooming himself to if she was not allowed to participate in their conversation on the all important subject.
Young people are, however, sometimes more or less of sophists, especially those who, independently of all other concerns of importance, are experiencing a certain attractiveness that is being exercised by members of the other sex into whose companionship they are much thrown by chance.
The day drew on; above them the heat--that subtle tropical heat which has been justly compared with the atmosphere of a Turkish bath or the engine room of a steamer--was exerting its full and irresistible power on all and everything that was subject to its influence. Even the yellow-headed parrots had now ceased their chattering and clacking; while Beatrix's pet monkey, whose home was on the lower branches of a huge thatch-palm, presented a mournful appearance of senile exhaustion, as it sat with its head bowed on its breast and its now drawn-down, wizened features a picture of absolute but resigned despair. And even those two human beings, each ordinarily so full of life and youth and vigour, appeared as if--despite all laws of good breeding to the effect that friends and acquaintances should not go to sleep in each other's presence--they were about to yield to the atmospheric influence. Julian knew that he was nodding, even while, as he glanced to where Beatrix's great fan had now ceased to sway, he was still wide awake enough to suspect that his were not the only eyes that were struggling to keep open.
As thus all things human and animal succumbed, or almost succumbed, to the dead, unruffled atmosphere, and while, too, the scarlet flowers of the flamboyants and the lilac-coloured blossoms of the oleanders drooped, across the lawn so carefully sown, with English grass seeds every spring and mowed and watered regularly, there fell a heavy footstep on the ears of Beatrix and Julian--footsteps proclaimed clearly by the jingle of spurs, if in no other way. And, a moment later, a sonorous voice was heard, expressing regret for thus disturbing so grateful a siesta and for intruding at all.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Ritherdon," Julian said, somewhat coldly, as now Sebastian came close to them; while Beatrix--her face as calm as though no drowsiness had come near her since the past night--greeted him with a civility that might almost have been termed glacial, and was, undoubtedly, distant. "I suppose you have heard of my little adventure on the horse you so kindly exchanged for my mustang?"
"It is for that that I am here," the other answered, dropping into a basket-chair towards which Beatrix coldly waved her hand. "I cannot tell you what my feelings, my remorse, were on hearing what had befallen you. Good Heavens! think--just think--how I should have felt if any real, any serious accident had befallen you! Yet, it was not my fault."
"No?" asked Julian. "No? Did you not know the animal's peculiarities, then?"