A Bachelor Husband. Ruby M. Ayres
her heart—she tried to call to the boy ahead of her, but a little wave broke in her face and carried her voice away. She thought that she screamed—she was quite sure that she screamed aloud in terror before someone put out the sunshine and blotted out the world, leaving only miles and miles of clear, green water, into which she sank slowly down …
38
CHAPTER IV
"Thy friend will come to thee unsought
With nothing can his love be bought;
Trust him greatly and for aye,
A true friend comes but once your way."
CHRIS LAWLESS came back into the hotel lounge almost as soon as his wife and young Atkins had left it. He looked quickly round for Marie.
His conscience had begun to prick him a little. He had noticed the pallor of Marie's face at breakfast time, and the something strained in her determined cheeriness, and, good fellow as he really was at heart, he felt unhappy.
He had meant to do the right thing by her when he married her. He had always prided himself upon being a sportsman. He had no intention of allowing people to say that he neglected his wife, or that his marriage had turned out a failure. He liked everything he undertook to be a success.
And he was fond of Marie! He had always been fond of her in his own way. There was no earthly reason that he could see why they should not get on ideally well together.
But Marie was not in the lounge. He looked round with a slight frown, and his gaze fell upon Feathers, yawning behind his paper.
Chris went up to him.
"Where's Marie?"
"She went out just now with Atkins. I heard them say something about a swim."
Chris looked annoyed.
"She ought to have waited for me," he said shortly. "Atkins takes too much upon himself."
39 Feathers rose and threw down his paper.
"They've only just gone," he said. "We can catch them up if you come now."
But Chris was thoroughly out of temper. He had letters to write, he said, and no doubt Marie would be back before long. He turned away and Feathers strolled out into the sunshine alone.
He knew to which beach Marie and Atkins had gone, and he sauntered slowly along in that direction.
It was a glorious morning, and the sea front was crowded. The hot sun beat down on his uncovered head and dark face, and one or two women looked after him interestedly.
Feathers was not just merely ugly to all women. Some of them realized the strength and character in his face, and with true femininity wondered what his wife was like!
But Feathers was unmarried, and fully intended to remain so. He had spent a roving life, and always declared that he was not going to put on a clean collar or wash his hands unless he felt inclined to for any woman's sake.
"Not that any woman is ever likely to interest herself either in my hands or collars," he added ruefully.
Chris had sworn eternal bachelorhood also, which partly accounted for Feathers' disgust when he wrote to him of his intended marriage.
He had written back a sarcastic letter which Chris had carefully destroyed without showing it to Marie.
"I never thought you were a petticoat follower … What in the name of all that's holy has made you change your mind? Is it money, brains, or merely a pretty face? No, I will not be your best man—I won't even come to your beastly wedding. If you choose to get into a tangle like this you can do so without my assistance, and later on, if you want to get out of it, don't come crying to me for help either. I wash my hands of you!"
He had been quite prepared to dislike Marie, and was surprised because he did not; but then—so he argued to himself—how could anybody dislike such a child? And his sentiments veered right round 40 the other way, until he decided that in all probability she would need protecting from Chris, though why, or in what way, he had not the smallest idea.
But he had offered her his friendship in all good faith, and was feeling a little sore at the manner of her refusal as he strolled along now in the sunshine through the crowds of holiday-makers, keeping a careless look-out for young Atkins.
There were a great many people bathing, and he stopped for a moment, one foot on the low railing that divided the promenade from the beach, scanning the water.
There was a good deal of laughter and chattering and screaming going on amongst the girls and women in the water, and he watched them with a sort of amused contempt. Why did they bathe if they found it so cold, and what fun could there be in standing in a few inches of water shivering and screaming?
And then all at once a change came over the whole scene. From light-hearted frivolity it seemed to turn to panic and fear. People left their seats on the parade and crowded down to the sands. A man's voice, frantic and agonized, raised itself above all the chatter and noise.
Feathers knew instinctively what had happened. He vaulted the low railing and ran across the sands, tearing off his coat as he went.
He kicked off his shoes at the water's edge and dashed into the sea, wading until the depths took him off his feet, and then swimming strongly.
A boat was circling round and round helplessly some way beyond the diving board. A youth in a wet bathing suit, white as a ghost and shivering with fright, was bending low over its bow, searching the smooth water with terrified eyes; when he caught sight of Feathers he broke into agonized words:
"Feathers! For God's sake! She's gone! Mrs. Lawless! She screamed and I tried to get to her … I was too late, and she went down … It must have been cramp—she was all right a moment before … Oh, 41 for God's sake!"
He dived from the boat to his friend's side but Feathers shook him off.
"Get away … you fool! Can't you see you're hampering me?"
He dived again and again, desperately swimming under water in a vain search for the drowning girl.
Young Atkins had clambered back to the boat. He sat there in the hot sunshine, his face in his hands, sobbing like a woman.
He felt that it was all his fault He knew he could never be able to face Chris again. Over and over in his mind rang the tragic words: "And she was only married yesterday! Only married yesterday!"
At that moment he would gladly have given his life for hers. He felt that he would not go on living if she had gone.
And then a sudden wild shout went up from the crowds on the beach. Young Atkins looked up, not daring to hope, and there in the sea, only a few yards from the boat, the rough dark head of Feathers appeared above the smooth water, swimming strongly with one arm and supporting a small, helpless object with the other.
He seemed to have forgotten the boat, for he made straight for the shore, and though eager men waded out to his help, and a dozen pairs of arms were stretched out to take his burden from him, he shook his head and held her jealously.
"Beauty and the beast!" someone whispered as the tall, ugly man waded ashore with the girl's limp body in his arms.
Perhaps he heard, for at any rate a faint, grim smile crossed his dark face as he laid her down on the warm sands.
There was a doctor amongst the crowd, and a little group closed about her, chafing her limbs, working her arms up and down, frantically trying to beat life back into the inert little body.
42 Feathers stood by breathing hard, the water dripping from him.
He kept his eyes fixed on Marie's deathly face.
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