But, by-and-by, there were some exclamations--a stir, and effort of strength. I saw them pulling in the ropes with combined movement. I saw them leaning over the side of the boat, nearest the shore, and together trying to lift something heavy over into it. I saw the water dripping as they raised it--and then I think I must have swooned. For I knew nothing further till I heard Richard's voice, and, raising my head, saw him leaping from the boat upon the bank. The other boat was further out, and was approaching slowly. I stood up as he came to me, and held by the railing.
"I want you to go up to the house," he said, gently, "there can be no good in your staying here."
"I will stay," I cried, everything coming back to me. "I will--will see him."
"There is no hope, Pauline," he said, in a quick voice, for the boat was very near the bank, "or very little--and you must not stay. Everything shall be done that can be done. I will do all. But you must not stay."
"I will," I said, frantically, trying to burst past him. He caught my arms and turned me toward the boat-house, and led me through it, out into the path that went up to the grove.
"Go home," he said, in a voice I never shall forget. "You shall not make a spectacle for these men. I have promised you I will do all. Mind you obey me strictly, and go up to your room and wait there till I come."
I don't know how I got there. I believe Bettina found me at the entrance to the garden, and helped me to the house, and put me on my bed.
An hour passed--perhaps more--and such an hour! (for I was not for a moment unconscious, after this, only deadly faint and weak), and then Richard came. The door was a little open, and he pushed it back and came in, and stood beside the bed.
I suppose the sight of me, so broken and spoiled by suffering, overcame him, for he stooped down suddenly, and kissed me, and then did not speak for a moment.
At last he said, in a voice not quite steady, "I didn't mean to be hard on you, Pauline. But you know I had to do it."