"Poor girl", said Philip, in a tone not too heartfelt, for Adeline’s eyes were on him. "Poor girl".
"Yes, indeed", agreed Adeline. "Poor girl".
Robert went on in the same curiously guarded tone:
"Well, Tite’s story was that having his gun with him he at once set out to find some food for her. He shot a grouse, built a fire and roasted it. Daisy was ravenous. When she had eaten and slept for a little he supported her as far as a certain clearing he knew and left her there while he came home for help".
"And she hadn’t heard our shouting or the reports of our guns!" exclaimed Philip.
"She says she heard nothing".
"She must have wandered a long way".
"Yes, she had wandered a long way".
"That boy, Tite, must know the forest well".
"He knows it like the palm of his hand. Well, to make a long story short, I went back with Tite while my father set about spreading the word to the other searchers that Daisy was found. When we reached the clearing there she was, sitting waiting for us in rags and tatters, with her hair down her back and her face dirty. We put her on the horse behind me and brought her home. My mother almost fainted at the sight of her. Mother had got the big tin bath full of hot water, and fresh clothes laid out for her. I came straight over here".
Adeline laid a gentle hand on Robert’s arm. "You must be tired and hungry", she said. "Philip, dear, would you ask Mrs. Coveyduck to bring us some of the hot scones she’s just made-and a pot of chocolate? My limbs are trembling so from excitement that I fear they’d fail me. Otherwise I’d never ask you to run my errands, Philip. You know I’m not the sort of wife to do that, am I?"
"Listen to her!" said Philip, giving Robert a wink. He went in search of Mrs. Coveyduck.
"Now", said Adeline, her face close to Robert’s, "tell me what you think about it all".
He turned his face away.
"You don’t believe this story, do you, Robert?"
"Not a word of it", he answered, his face sombre.
"But you believe that Tite found Daisy".
"Yes, I believe he found her".
"But not just today?"
"I tell you", he cried fiercely, "I hated to have her on the horse with me! I hated her arms about me!"
"She couldn’t have helped but hear the guns and the shouting, could she?"
"Don’t ask me".
"Why don’t you believe Tite’s story, Robert?"
"Because it was false. The story she poured out to me when I met her was false. Every tree in the forest shouted that she was false-false as hell!" He wrung his fingers together. "And when I saw my mother embracing her, weeping over her-my father shaken and aged by this week of misery-I could have killed her!"
"She can’t help what she is, Robert", said Adeline, taking his hand. "I don’t feel angry at her now. If it isn’t one man, it’s another-with her. How did she greet your mother?"
"Oh, I don’t know! I came away".
Philip returned through the hall. He said:
"Mrs. Coveyduck is delighted. The chocolate is preparing. The scones smell delicious. What about that reward of a hundred pounds which your father offered for Miss Daisy’s discovery, Robert?"
"Oh, Tite had heard of that and claimed it in the first breath!"
"What a windfall for Tite!" exclaimed Philip, laughing. "He will probably leave Wilmott and set himself up as Chief of his tribe".
As they spoke of him, they saw Wilmott hastening along the drive. His face was alight. "Have you heard the news?" he cried. Then, seeing Robert, added, "But of course you have. What a relief! I was with the search party when Colonel Vaughan appeared. We had given up hope of finding Miss Vaughan alive". He sat down beside the others. He fanned himself with his hat. Then he turned to Robert. "There must be great rejoicing at Vaughanlands".
"Yes", answered Robert, with a smile that had more of pain than happiness in it. "But my mother is feeling quite ill".
"I am sorry to hear that". Wilmott’s face was alight with sympathy.
"Faith", exclaimed Adeline, "we all have been under a cloud! But now it’s lifted". Her eyes smiled into Robert’s. "Now we must put all unhappy things out of our minds. We have a great deal to be thankful for".
"Listen to her!" said Philip. "She sounds like a preacher. She really is a bit of a devil but she has these pious spells. I am always afraid of what she may say at such times".
"You all know", said Adeline, still smiling, "that Daisy and I quarrelled. Shall I tell you what I did to her?"
"No", answered Philip. "No one wants to know. Here comes the chocolate. While we drink it, Robert must tell us more of what happened this morning". He placed a small table and Mrs. Coveyduck beamingly set down a laden tray.
An hour later Robert returned to Vaughanlands. Philip hastened with relief to his workmen. Adeline and Wilmott were left alone. He said, with a somewhat remote expression on his thin face:
"Now that this excitement is over perhaps you will be a little interested in my manuscript".
Her eyebrows flew up. "Is it possible, James, that you have been able to do any writing in this past week?"
"I had a considerable amount written at the time of the bathing party. I had intended reading it to you the next day, then-this fantastic thing happened. Perhaps you are no longer interested".
"I am indeed. Please bring the manuscript tomorrow morning. I promise you we shall be quite undisturbed. I am pining to hear it read".
"If it bores you, you must stop me".
"Nothing you write could bore me… James, do you think Tite will get the reward?"
He flushed a little. "I imagine he will".
"Do you think he deserves it?"
"Well, it is certain that he found Miss Vaughan".
"Do you feel anything mysterious in his finding her?"
"Yes".
"What did Tite say when he came back?"
"Simply that he had found her and wanted the reward".
"It has been a strange affair", she said.
"Very strange".
"I was terribly frightened, James".
"I know".
There was a silence, then she said:
"James, it’s a fine thing to live with a forest all about you, you writing a beautiful book and fishing in your river, Philip building a church and raising crops; and as for me-" she laid her hand on her heart-"here am I in the midst-happy as a queen with my own roof over my head and my babies all about me!"
Wilmott’s smile was curiously both tender and grim. "You deserve to be", he said.
The next day he brought the manuscript and seated in the cool shade of the drawing-room he read aloud to her. While she listened, her gaze was intent on his face, across which many expressions flitted, but through them all showed a certain battered wistfulness and an inviolate dignity. In repose, Wilmott looked singularly undefeated and even cold. As Adeline listened to the unfolding of the tale she recognised herself in the heroine and, for all his attempts at disguise, Wilmott in the hero. But this only increased her enjoyment. With her elbow on the arm of her chair and her chin in her palm she drank in every word and pronounced it a masterpiece. She could scarcely bear to wait for the ending. She begged him to waste no more time but to concentrate with all his might in completing the romance. It would be a great success. It would rival The Mysteries of Udolpho.
When Wilmott returned home he found Tite cleaning a fine salmon for their evening meal. The bright scales flew from the sharpness of his knife like sparks from an anvil. His slim brown torso was bare but he wore an old straw hat. He looked up smiling, showing white teeth. He held up the fish for Wilmott’s inspection.
"Boss", he said, "it is a fine fish".
"Yes, Tite, it’s a fine one, and especially as the fishing has been poor of late. That is a good knife you have".