The Safety Curten by Ethel May Dell (ebook e reader .txt) 📖

was there, and with him a man in flowing, native garments.
"Mrs. Tudor," said Phil, his hand closing tightly upon her arm, "before you blame me, I want you to speak to this man. He can tell you more about your husband than I can."
He spoke very quietly, very steadily, almost as if he were afraid she might not understand him.
Audrey made an effort to collect her reeling senses. The colonel bent towards her.
"Don't be afraid of him, Mrs. Tudor," he said kindly. "He is a friend, and he speaks English."
But Audrey did not so much as glance at the native, who stood, silent and impassive, waiting to be questioned. The agony of the past thirty hours had reached its limit. She sank into a chair by the colonel's table and hid her face in her shaking hands.
"I've nothing to ask him," she said hopelessly. "Eustace is dead--dead--dead, without ever knowing how I loved him. Nothing matters now. There is nothing left that ever can matter."
Dead silence succeeded her words, then a quiet movement, then silence again.
She did not look up or stir. Her passion of grief had burnt itself out. She was exhausted mentally and physically.
Minutes passed, but she did not move. What was there to rouse her? There was nothing left. She had no tears to shed. Tears were for small things. This grief of hers was too immense, too infinite for tears.
Only at last something, some inner prompting, stirred her, and as if at the touch of a hand that compelled, she raised her head.
She saw neither the colonel nor Phil, and a sharp prick of wonder pierced her lethargy of despair. She turned in her chair, obedient still to that inner force that compelled. Yes, they had gone. Only the native remained--an old, bent man, who humbly awaited her pleasure. His face was almost hidden in his _chuddah_.
Audrey looked at him.
"There is nothing to wait for," she said at length. "You need not stay."
He did not move. It was as if he had not heard. Her wonder grew into a sort of detached curiosity. What did the man want? She remembered that the colonel had told her that he understood English.
"Is there--something--you wish to say to me?" she asked, and the bare utterance of the words kindled a feeble spark of hope within her, almost in spite of herself.
He turned very slowly.
"Yes, one thing," he said, paused an instant as she sprang to her feet with a great cry, then straightened himself, pushed the _chuddah_ back from his face, and flung out his arms to her passionately.
"Audrey!" he said--"Audrey!"


CHAPTER XIII
HAPPINESS AGAIN

By slow degrees Audrey learnt the story of her husband's escape.
It was Phil's doing in the main, he told her simply, and she understood that but for Phil he would not have taken the trouble. Something Phil had said to him that night had stuck in his mind, and it had finally decided him to make the attempt.
Circumstances had favoured him. Moreover it was by no means the first time that he had been among the Hill tribes in native guise. One sentinel alone had returned to guard the hut after Phil's departure, and this man he had succeeded in overpowering without raising an alarm.
Then, disguising himself once more, he had managed to escape just before the dawn, and had lain hidden for hours among the boulders of the river-bed, fearing to emerge by daylight. But in the evening he had left his hiding-place, and found the fort to be occupied by British troops. The Waris had gone to earth before their advance, and they had found the place deserted.
He had forthwith presented himself in his disguise and been taken before Phil, the officer-in-command.
"But surely he knew you?"
"Yes, he knew me. But I swore him to secrecy."
She drew a little closer to him.
"Eustace, why?" she whispered.
His arm tightened about her.
"I had to know the truth first," he said.
"Oh!" she murmured. "And now--are you satisfied?"
He bent and kissed her forehead gravely, tenderly.
"I am satisfied," he said.
* * * * *


"Well, didn't I tell you so?" laughed Phil, when they shook hands later.
Audrey did not ask him what he meant, for, with all his honesty, Phil could be enigmatical when he chose. Moreover, it really didn't much matter, for, as she tacitly admitted to herself, fond as she was of him, he no longer occupied the place of honour in her thoughts, and she was not vitally interested in him now that the trouble was over.
So when, a few weeks later, Phil cheerily packed his belongings and departed to Poonah, having effected an exchange into the other battalion stationed there, only his major understood why, and was sorry.
Imprint

Publication Date: 02-09-2010

All Rights Reserved