Fyles’s knowledge of women was slight enough, but he had that keen observation which told him many things instinctively. And all the best and truest that was in him had been turned upon this woman from the very first time he had seen her.
He told himself warmly, now, that she was the most lovable creature on earth, and nothing but marriage with her could ever bring him the necessary peace of mind that would permit him to continue his work with that zeal and hope of achievement with which he had set about a career.
He saw so many things now, through the eyes of a great passion, that seemed utterly different, rendered transcendentally attractive through the glamor of a strong, deep love. They were things which, before, had always been viewed dispassionately, almost coldly, yet not without satisfaction. They had always been part of his scheme, but had no greater attraction than the mere fact that they were integral parts of one great whole. Now they became oases, restful shades in the sunlight of his effort.
He had always contemplated marriage as an ultimately necessary adjunct to the main purpose. No man, he felt, could succeed adequately, after a certain measure had been achieved, without a woman at his side, a woman’s influence to keep the social side of a career in balance with the side which depended upon his direct effort. Now he saw there was more in it than that. Something more human. Something which made success a thousand times more pleasing to contemplate. He felt that with Kate at his side giant’s work would become all too easy. Her ravishing smile of encouragement would be a gentle spur to the most jaded energies. The delight of bearing her upon his broad shoulders in his upward career, would be bliss beyond words, and, in the interim of his great efforts, the care and happiness of her loyally courageous heart would be a delight almost too good to be true.
His keen mind and straining energies were bathed in the wonderful fount of love. He was looking for the first time into the magic mirror which every human creature must, at some time, gaze into. He was discovering all those pictures which had been discovered countless millions of times before, and which other coming countless millions had yet to discover for themselves.
So he rode on dreaming to the rhythmic beat of Peter’s willing hoofs. So he came at last to the distant camp of his subordinate comrades.
He was greeted by the harsh voice and hard, weather-stained features of McBain wreathed in a smile which was a mere distortion, yet which augured well.
“I haven’t opened the letters, sir,” he said, “but I’ve questioned Jones close. I guess it’s right, all right.”
Fyles was once more the man of business. He nodded as he flung off his horse and handed it over to a waiting trooper.
“Where’s the despatch?” he demanded sharply.