Under his icy glance Penruddock saw nothing for it but to retire; so, with a bow, he said: "Your Excellency's servant," and left the room.
During the six days that followed Roger made not the slightest alteration in his regime. Alternately he slept or sat in moody contemplation with a vacant look on his face. He would see no one but Dan, and, from his reports, Madame de Kay and Doctor Fergusson feared that he was going out of his mind; but Dan would not agree to that He insisted that his master's brain was sound as ever, but had become dormant and needed some special impulse to rearouse it Fergusson agreed that he was probably right, but added that unless some such impulse could be given it fairly soon, a general deterioration might set in which would rob him of his wits for good. Clarissa was present a this conversation and after it went to her room, where she sat for some time in deep thought
That night Roger went to bed about ten o'clock, which was his usual hour. By eleven he was sound asleep. Soon after midnight he was roused by a faint noise. Opening his eyes he saw a glow of light. Then he turned over to find that the curtains of his bed had been drawn aside and that Clarissa stood there, a candlestick in her hand, gazing down upon him.
She was wearing a dark coloured chamber robe caught together at the neck by a big silk bow which stuck out on either side of her chin. Above it her oval face, framed in golden ringlets, was lit up by the candle light For a moment he thought he was dreaming; but she caught his thought and said softly:
"I am no dream. I'm real."
"What... what the devil has brought you here?" he asked sleepily.
"Don't be so rude, Roger," she smiled. "I am perhaps a little late, but I came to wish you a Happy Birthday."
"Birthday!" he muttered, propping himself up on an elbow. "Is it my birthday? I'd no idea of the date. Recently the days seem to have merged into one another. Since Amanda's death.... Oh God!"
"I know. You have been half out of your mind with grief. But she would not have wished you to continue so. And with her last breath she charged me to take care of both her child and you."
"Why you, and not Cousin Margaret?"
"Because she believed that I could make you happy."
For a moment Roger remained silent then he said roughly: "You told her, then, that you were in love with me?"
"No. I would never have done that. She guessed it. Women instinctively know such things about one another."
"And she did not resent it?"
"Nay. Although I did not deserve her generosity, she trusted me completely. She had no idea that I had confessed my love to you; but as she lay dying she sent your Cousin Margaret away and told me that she knew it, then expressed the hope that you would marry me."
"I've not the least intention of marrying anyone."
She shook her head. "I did not suppose you had. So as it is your birthday I brought you a present"
He gave a puzzled frown. "A present? What have presents to do with this? I do not understand."
As he was speaking she had set the candlestick on the bedside table and stepped back. With one hand she gave a swift pull to an end of the bow at her neck and with the other ripped open the fastenings of her chamber robe. Beneath it she had nothing on at all. Pulling off the robe she threw it over the back of a chair, then stood before him with downcast eyes, revealed in all her beauty.
"I have brought you myself," she said in a breathless whisper.
"Clarissa!" he gasped. "What are you thinking of? You must be mad! Put on your robe and go back to your room."
"I am not mad!" Her blue eyes suddenly looked straight into his and she spoke firmly. "I am nineteen, and I know what I am doing."
"Ah, you are a; grown woman," he admitted, "but you have bewitched yourself, or you would never behave in such a fashion."
"It is you who are bewitched!" she retorted swiftly. "I am no more so than any woman who has loved a man to near distraction for above a year. 'Tis you who are under a spell! A spell cast by death, which is slowly destroying your mind. And I am here to break it"
Suddenly she shivered, took a pace forward, grasped the bedclothes and pulled them back, exclaiming: "Roger, I am cold! For pity's sake let me come into your bed."
"No!" he cried hoarsely. ‘No, no! I'll not let you do this!"
But she was already half kneeling above him m the bed. As he sat up to push her out her shoulder brushed against his, and the warmth of it ran through him like an electric shock. Next moment she had flung her soft arms round his neck and pressed her half-open mouth on his in a passionate kiss.
Carried out of himself he clasped her to him, and his lips responded with equal vigour. As they broke the kiss she gave a cry of triumph.
"There! I have made you come alive again; and I knew that you could love me if you would."
Silently he put up his hands, clasped her wrists, pulled them from behind his neck, and pushed her away from him. Then he said coldly:
"You are wrong in that I have never ceased to be alive, and I have no intention of making love to you." After a second, deciding that it was the only way to chill her, he added what had now become a lie. "Please understand that this has nought to do with the memory of Amanda. It is simply that I have never bad the least desire to have you for a bedfellow."
His words had an instantaneous effect. Suddenly, still half sprawled upon him, she went absolutely limp; then she slid down beside him, a sob burst from her throat, and she moaned: "Oh God! That I should have to suffer this!"
"I pray you be sensible," he urged with swift contrition. "I implied as much long since, that night in the forest."
"No, you did not." Her words came in a shaky voice. "You led me only to suppose that out of consideration for Amanda you would not allow your thoughts to dwell on me; and, for the same reason I told you that even did you want me I would refuse you. Yet I have always hoped that some twist of fate might bring us together in different circumstances. Not her death! God forbid! I had no thought of that; but that the two of you might separate again, as you did once before. In that hope, since arriving here, I have refused offers of marriage from a dozen men of good fortune and repulsed half a hundred who have done their best to seduce me. There is scarce a man here on the island who would not give a half of all he possesses to sleep with me. Yet you—the only one to whom I would give myself with gladness— have nought but harsh words for me. Though I lie here in bed with you, you treat me as though I were a leper. Oh Roger! How can you be so brutal?"
'1 am truly sorry," he said huskily. "I did not mean to hurt you."
"Hurt me!" she exclaimed. "You could not have done so more effectually had you thrust a white-hot iron right through my body."
On the last word she choked, and burst into tears. For a moment Roger let her cry, then he pushed an arm under her shoulders and drew her golden head down on to his chest. She made no movement either to resist or cling to him but went on crying.
"There, there!" he murmured, as to a child. "Do not take on so, my dear. At least you may be assured that I have a great affection for you."
At the word 'affection' a shudder ran through her, and her sobs increased in violence until they shook her whole body. In vain Roger strove to comfort her, but whether she even took in his words he could not tell. She cried and cried and cried until, after a long time, gradually her weeping eased. There followed a period of silence, during which he had not the heart to tell her to get up and go to her room. Then, from her gentle, even breathing, he realized that, utterly worn out by her emotions, she had fallen asleep.
One by one the hours of the night crept on, but he remained wide awake while she lay snuggled against his side sleeping peacefully. The arm he had about her grew stiff and cramped, yet he would not move it until he saw the light of dawn creeping beneath the curtains of the windows. Stooping his head, then, he roused her by kissing her lightly on the cheek.