Greatheart by Ethel May Dell (android based ebook reader TXT) 📖

tyro," he added. "I have been watching the luging on that slope, and thanking all the stars that control my destiny that I wasn't there."

She laughed, showing a row of small white teeth. "Oh, you'd love it once you started. It's a heavenly sport if the run isn't bumpy. Isn't this a glorious atmosphere? It makes one feel so happy."

She came and stood by his side to watch the skaters. Billy was seated on the bank, impatiently changing his boots.

"I'm not going to wait for you any longer, Dinah," he said. "I'm fed up."

"Don't then!" she retorted. "I never asked you to."

"What a lie!" said Billy, with all a brother's gallantry.

She threw him a sister's look of scorn and deigned no rejoinder. But in a moment the incident was forgotten. "Oh, look there!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Isn't that just like Rose de Vigne? She's always sure to appropriate the most handsome man within sight. I've been watching that man from my window. He is a perfect Apollo, and skates divinely. And now she's got him!"

Deep disgust was audible in her voice. Billy looked up with a sideways grin. "You don't suppose he'd look at a sparrow like you, do you?" he said. "He prefers a swan, you bet."

"Be quiet, Billy!" commanded Dinah, making an ineffectual dig at him with her foot. "I don't want him to look at me. I hate men. But it is too bad the way Rose always chooses the best. It's just the same with everything. And I long—oh, I do long sometimes—to cut her out!"

"I should myself," said Scott unexpectedly. "But why don't you. I'm sure you could."

She threw him a whimsical smile. "I!" she said. "Why that's about as likely as—" she stopped short in some confusion.

He laughed a little. "You mean I might as soon hope to cut out Apollo? But the cases are not parallel, I assure you. Besides, Apollo happens to be my brother, which makes a difference."

"Oh, is he your brother? What a good thing you told me!" laughed Dinah.
"I might have said something rude about him in a minute."

"Like me!" said Billy, stumbling to his feet. "I made a most horrific blunder, didn't I, Mr. Studley? I called him a bounder!"

Dinah looked at him witheringly. "You would!" she said. "Well, I hope you apologized."

Billy stuck out his tongue at her. "I didn't then!" he returned, and skated elegantly away on one leg.

"Billy," remarked Dinah dispassionately, "is not really such a horrid little beast as he seems."

Scott smiled his courteous smile. "I had already gathered that," he said.

Her green eyes darted him a swift look, as if to ascertain if he were in earnest. Then: "That was very nice of you," she said. "I wonder how you knew."

He still smiled, but without much mirth. "A looker-on sees a good many things, you know," he said.

Dinah's eyes flashed understanding. She said no more.

CHAPTER III THE SEARCH

When Isabel came slowly forth at length from the hotel door whither Biddy had conducted her, Scott was sitting alone on a bench in the sunshine.

He rose at once to join her. "Why, how quick you have been! Or else the time flies here. Eustace is still skating. I had no idea he was so accomplished. See, there he is!"

But Isabel set her haggard face towards the mountain-road that wound up beyond the hotel. "I am going to look for Basil," she said.

"It is waste of time," said Scott quietly.

But he did not attempt to withstand her. They turned side by side up the hard, snowy track.

For some time they walked in silence. At a short distance from the hotel, the road ascended steeply through a pine-wood, dark and mysterious as an enchanted forest, through which there rose the sound of a rushing stream.

Scott paused to listen, but instantly his sister laid an imperious hand upon him.

"I can't wait," she said. "I am sure he is just round the corner. I heard him whistle."

He moved on in response to her insistence. "I heard that whistle too," he said. "But it was a mountain-boy."

He was right. At a curve in the road, they met a young Swiss lad who went by them with a smile and salute, and fell to whistling again when he had passed.

Isabel pressed on in silence. She had started in feverish haste, but her speed was gradually slackening. She looked neither to right nor left; her eyes perpetually strained forward as though they sought for something just beyond their range of vision. For a while Scott limped beside her without speaking, but at last as they sighted the end of the pine-wood he gently broke the silence.

"Isabel dear, I think we must turn back very soon."

"Oh, why?" she said. "Why? You always say that when—" There came a break in her voice, and she ceased to speak.

Her pace quickened so that he had some difficulty in keeping up with her, but he made no protest. With the utmost patience he also pressed on.

But it was not long before her strength began to fail. She stumbled once or twice, and he put a supporting hand under her elbow. As they neared the edge of the pines it became evident that the road dwindled to a mere mountain-path winding steeply upwards through the snow. The sun shone dazzlingly upon the great waste of whiteness.

Very suddenly Isabel stopped. "He can't have gone this way after all," she said, and turned to her brother with eyes of tragic hopelessness. "Stumpy, Stumpy, what shall I do?"

He drew her hand very gently through his arm. "We will go back, dear," he said.

A low sob escaped her, but she did not weep. "If I only had the strength to go on and on and on!" she said. "I know I should find him some day then."

"You will find him some day," he answered with grave assurance. "But not yet."

They went back to the turn in the road where the sound of the stream rose like fairy music from an unseen glen. The snow lay pure and untrodden under the trees.

Scott paused again, and this time Isabel made no remonstrance. They stood together listening to the rush of the torrent.

"How beautiful this place must be in springtime!" he said.

She gave a sharp shiver. "It is like a dead world now."

"A world that will very soon rise again," he answered.

She looked at him with vague eyes. "You are always talking of the resurrection," she said.

"When I am with you, I am often thinking of it," he said with simplicity.

A haunted look came into her face. "But that implies—death," she said, her voice very low.

"And what is Death?" said Scott gently, as if he reasoned with a child. "Do you think it is more than a step further into Life? The passing of a boundary, that is all."

"But there is no returning!" she protested piteously. "It must be more than that."

"My dear, there is never any returning," he said gravely. "None of us can go backwards. Yesterday is but a step away, but can we retrace that step? No, not one of us."

She made a sudden, almost fierce gesture. "Oh, to go back!" she cried. "Oh, to go back! Why should we be forced blindly forward when we only want to go back?"

"That is the universal law," said Scott. "That is God's Will."

"It is cruel! It is cruel!" she wailed.

"No, it is merciful. So long as there is Death in the world we must go on. We have got to get past Death."

She turned her tragic eyes upon him. "And what then? What then?"

Scott was gazing steadfastly into her face of ravaged beauty. "Then—the resurrection," he said. "There are millions of people in the world, Isabel, who are living out their lives solely for the sake of that, because they know that if they only keep on, the Resurrection will give back to them all that they have lost. My dear, it is not going back that could help anyone. The past is past, the present is passing; there is only the future that can restore all things. We are bound to go forward, and thank God for it!"

Her eyes fell slowly before his. She did not speak, but after a moment gave him her hand with a shadowy smile. They continued the descent side by side.

Another curve of the road brought them within sight of the hotel.

Scott broke the silence. "Here is Eustace coming to meet us!"

She looked up with a start, and into her face came a curious, veiled expression, half furtive, half afraid.

"Don't tell him, Stumpy!" she said quickly.

"What, dear?"

"Don't tell him I have been looking for Basil this morning. He—he wouldn't understand. And—and—you know—I must look for him sometimes. I shall lose him altogether if I don't."

"Shall we pretend we are enjoying ourselves?" said Scott with a smile.

She answered him with feverish earnestness. "Yes—yes! Let us do that!
And, Stumpy, Stumpy dear, you are good, you can pray. I can't, you know.
Will you—will you pray sometimes—that I may find him?"

"I shall pray that your eyes may be opened, Isabel," he answered, "so that you may know you have never really lost him."

She smiled again, her fleeting, phantom smile. "Don't pray for the impossible, Stumpy!" she said. "I—I think that would be a mistake."

"Is anything impossible?" said Scott.

He raised his hand before she could make any answer, and sent a cheery holloa down to his brother who waved a swift response. They quickened their steps to meet him.

Eustace was striding up the hill with the easy swing of a giant. He held out both hands to Isabel as he drew near. She pulled herself free from Scott, and went to him as one drawn by an unseen force.

"Ah, that's right," he said, and bent to kiss her. "I'm glad you've been for a walk. But you might have come and spoken to me first. I was only on the rink."

"I didn't want to see a lot of people," said Isabel, shrinking a little.
"I—I don't like so many strangers, Eustace."

"Oh, nonsense!" he said lightly. "You have been buried too long. It's time you came out of your shell. I shan't take you home again till you have quite got over that."

His tone was kindly but it held authority. Isabel attempted no protest. Only she looked away over the sparkling world of white and blue with something near akin to despair in her eyes.

Scott took out his cigarette-case, and handed it to his brother.
"Isabel's birthday present to me!" he said.

Eustace examined it with a smile. "Very nice! Did you think of it all by yourself, Isabel?"

"No," she said with dreary listlessness. "Biddy reminded me."

Eustace's face changed. He frowned slightly and gave the case back to his brother.

"Have a cigarette!" said Scott.

He took one absently, and Scott did the same.

"How did you get on with the lady in red?" he asked.

Eustace threw him a glance half-humorous, half-malicious. "If it comes to that, how did you get on with the little brown girl?"

"Oh, very nicely," smiled Scott. "Her name is Dinah. Your lady's name is
Rose de Vigne, if you care to know."

"Really?" said Eustace. "And who told you that?"

"Dinah, of course, or Dinah's brother. I forget which. They belong to the same party."

"I should think that little snub-nosed person feels somewhat in the shade," observed Eustace.

"I expect she does. But she has plenty of wits to make up for it. She seems to find life quite an interesting entertainment."

"She can't skate a bit," said Eustace.

"Can't she? You'll have to give her a hint or two. I am sure she would be very grateful."

"Did she tell you so?"

"I'm not going to tell you what she told me. It wouldn't be fair."

Eustace laughed with easy tolerance. "Oh, I've no objection to giving her a hand now and then if she's amusing, and doesn't become a nuisance. I'm not going to let myself be bored by anybody this trip. I'm out for sport only."

"It's a lovely place," observed Scott.

"Oh, perfect. I'm going to ski this afternoon. How do you like it,
Isabel?"