Chapter X: The Summit

He sprang forward; the next moment Iris was locked in his arms.

“Iris--my precious darling--are you all right? Thank God I have found you at last!” he ejaculated in broken, passion-laden tones.

“Oh, Justin--Justin, how did you find me?” sobbed the girl, pressing her arms convulsively round him.

For some time they stood silent, overcome by emotions too deep, too torrential, to find vent in words.

At last the girl broke the long, tumultuous pause. “But how did you find me--how did you know so soon?” she questioned, her cheek against his.

He explained it all to her, and when he had finished he added: “But you must not be standing out here in the cold any longer. I must try to find a sheltered spot where you can rest for the night.”

“I suppose we shall have to stay here--till the morning?”

“Yes, Sweetheart. Are you afraid?”

“Not now, when you are here,” she whispered, letting her head drop to his shoulder. “But I was afraid before. Everything is so dreadfully big up here--the sky, the earth, the peaks, the valleys, and those awful ravines.” She shivered a little. “It all looks so lovely and romantic in the daylight and at a safe distance; but, when you are here all alone in the dark, the loneliness is so huge--like the great sky overhead!”

“Poor little sweetheart! But you won’t feel so lonely now, will you?” he said, laying his lips against her hair.

“No, never when you are with me. Justin,” she continued after a pause, “do you know, I have never really believed in angels or anything like that, but just now, when I heard your dear voice singing our beloved song of the cave, it seemed as if Heaven itself had opened and sent you to me?”

There was deep reverence in his voice as he replied: “Iris, Heaven really did open to-night and Hands not visible guided me to you.”

“I am sure that is true,” she said in hushed tones.

“But, dearest one, you must not be standing any longer,” he said with a great tenderness as he released her.

“Justin, I can’t let you go--I can’t ever let you go,” she said, clinging to him desperately.

He caught her to him afresh. “Iris, you do not need to let me go; I shall hold you to me all night,” he murmured in a tense, low voice. “But we must find a sheltered little nook and you shall rest close to me there.”

With his arm still round her, the girl led him to a little cave-like enclosure where she had been sitting since it grew dark. Together they stooped through the aperture and found themselves in a small cavern beautifully sheltered from the wind.

Rees lit a match and looked round approvingly. “Yes, this is the very place we need; and now we must have some supper.”

He put down his overcoat to soften the rocks, undid the bag, and unpacked its contents. Then they sat down close together and began a very happy meal. There was no wood to make a fire, but Justin had prepared for this emergency by bringing a large thermos with hot tea, and they both enjoyed the warm drink and delicious sandwiches Miss Smith had prepared.

During a short pause they heard a weird, hollow sound rising up to them from one of the nearest valleys. Iris started a little. “Whatever is that?” she asked, nestling closer to her companion.

“Don’t be afraid; it is only the native devil barking. He always comes out at night; isn’t it weird!”

“Yes, what a queer noise! It sounds so mysterious, as if it came from some dog-ghost that couldn’t rest in the nether world and had come back to earth for a little respite.”

“What an imaginative little girl you are!” he said, drawing her nearer. “But you must have some more tea; there are still plenty of sandwiches and scones.”

“What a thoughtful dear you are, bringing all these things such a tremendous distance,” she said, stroking his hand caressingly.

“That was nothing; I did not feel the weight at all. I brought you something else,” he went on in a strained voice, “which I am glad to say you don’t seem to need. It is this,” and he handed her the flask.

She felt it and--understood. He had carried it all that way--untouched, and for her!

“Justin,” she said unsteadily, “fancy bringing that for me! But do you think I should have touched it even if I had been dying? No; what has brought you all that sorrow and distress shall never cross my lips. I would rather lose life itself than pain you with the scent of it from my breath; but,” she added, laying her cheek against his sleeve, “it was just wonderful of you to carry it all that time without----”

“Without touching it--I was horribly tempted once----”

“Never mind, you resisted bravely.”

When the remains of their meal were packed away, and they were comfortably settled against the rocky wall, Rees said: “Tell me, however did Captain Barton come to leave you? I can’t imagine how he could do such a thing.”

The girl stirred a little uneasily. “Well, you see, he was very angry with me, and that made him want to climb that peak just to cool his rage.”

“Angry with you--whatever for?” asked Rees in surprise.

“Because--well, I was horribly angry with him.”

“You angry with him, too--why?” Her companion was decidedly mystified.

Iris did not reply at once; she was evidently considering the best way of telling him.

Rees repeated his question, and she answered him--

“You see, Ralph had sent the man on ahead as we came up, and he made me rest so often, and then--he talked to me.”

“I see--and you didn’t quite like the subject of his conversation?”

“No.”

“I suppose he asked you to marry him?”

“Yes.”

“Ah! and he was a little insistent?”

“Yes, very.”

“Isn’t it nice to be proposed to?” She felt his eyes upon her in the dimness.

“It is awful,” she said with slight confusion.

“Is it as bad as that--_always_?” His face bent close to hers.

“Perhaps not quite--always,” she stammered, turning slightly away.

“But you did not like it this afternoon?”

“Justin, how can you ask such a question? You know!” She turned to him suddenly and rested her hand on his.

He took it and pressed it to his lips. “Still,” he went on after a pause, “that should not have annoyed you; after all, a man can’t honour a woman more than by asking her to be his wife; it may not be much, but it is the best he has to offer.”

“Oh, it wasn’t _that_!” said Iris quickly.

“What, then, dearest?”

“Please don’t ask me.”

“Iris, haven’t I a right to know about a thing that makes you angry?”

“Of course,” she said, patting his sleeve; “only it is so horrid to talk about this.”

“Then I think it is all the more reason why I should know. A thing which is horrid to talk about is generally worse when it takes place.”

“But it didn’t take place--he only tried----”

“What did he try to do?” He thought a moment, then added in very quiet tones, “Did he try to--kiss you?”

“Yes,” she admitted, turning a little from him.

His fingers tightened on her hand, but he did not speak for awhile. Then he said: “But why did you go away from the place where Captain Barton left you? That was a very dangerous thing to do.”

“Yes, I know I should not have done it, but I wanted to go down to Amy. The path is unmistakable, and I scribbled a line to Ralph to explain, and placed it on the top of the big, flat rock where I was supposed to stay, and put a stone on it. But I remember it was only a small, round one--all I could find--and it must have been rolled off by the force of the wind. Anyhow, he did not get the note. Then I went along to the place where I thought the downward track started, but I must have gone in the wrong direction, for I could not find it anywhere, and,” she added, with a little break in her voice, “I went about looking for it all the time till it got dark----”

“Poor little girl,” he murmured in tenderest sympathy. “But you must not be sad any more--we are going to be happy together to-night.”

“Yes,” she said, a brightness coming into her voice; “now that you are here nothing else matters.”

There was a new, glad silence--a silence pulsating with deep, wonderful meaning. It made them each strangely conscious that they were alone up there in the huge, wild mountains, far away from other human beings--all vastly, absolutely, gloriously alone!

“Poor Captain Barton! It must have been hard for him to-day--you are such an adorable little girl, you know, that no man can possibly resist you,” said Justin, bending towards her. “I suppose the unfortunate fellow was simply desperate.”

“No, you need not pity Ralph; he is very insistent, but not desperate. I don’t think he knows the meaning of the word.”

“I wonder if _you_ know the meaning of it?” said her lover in an odd voice.

In the dimness he saw her head droop a little.

“Yes,” she replied very softly, “I know.”

“I wonder--will you tell me when you felt--desperate?”

She stirred slightly. “I suppose there are to be no reserves between us to-night?”

“No,” he answered, “there are to be no reserves nor conventionalities between us to-night; we can speak freely to each other, heart to heart. So tell me, Iris.”

“I felt--like--that, when you would not speak to me, and left me so horribly alone.”

“My precious one,” he began in a voice vibrating with remorse and tenderness, “I can’t forgive myself for having hurt you, and--and--it was just torment to do it. But you know why I did it, don’t you?”

“Yes, I understood; I knew you were only doing it for my sake; all the same it was mistaken kindness.”

“But, don’t you see, I thought if I kept out of the way----”

“Yes, I know how you felt; but however could you imagine for a moment that passing me on to Ralph in that wholesale way could make the faintest difference?”

“Darling, you must have thought me a perfect brute!” he exclaimed with a groan.

“No, I didn’t think that.”

“Iris, you are marvellous; and after it and--that----” He shuddered.

She turned to him quickly. “Justin, you are not referring to--that--forbidden subject, are you? Because I will not have it; it is buried, and you are not even to _think_ about it.”

“Oh, Iris, you are wonderful!” he groaned again. “I just can’t tell you how I feel about your coming out and comforting me last night.” There was a break in his voice; he could not continue, but his head dropped on her strong young shoulder, and then he felt a soft arm steal about him and a tender hand creep soothingly through his hair.

“My poor, sad boy!” she said, pressing her cheek against his head. “How could I leave you to grieve alone? I simply _had_ to try and comfort you.”

“_Try!_” he repeated. “Why, you comforted me in the most heavenly way! You don’t know how much you did for me last night; you simply lifted me out of all the misery and disgrace and made me feel there was hope that I could climb once more.”

ON THE DU CANE RANGE.]

A little timidly she laid her soft palm against his cheek and drew his face close to her own. “My dear, dear Justin,” she murmured caressingly. “I can’t ever bear you to be sad--if you are I must comfort you.”

“Iris, your love is divine! And I shall never forget the bliss of resting in that dear place----” Again there was a break in his voice, and he buried his face on her shoulder.

Gently, without a word, she drew his head down to her soft, warm bosom, and pillowed it there as she had done the night before.

He drew a long, tremulous breath. “Iris--you are too good to me,” he said huskily.

“Not half as good as you are to me! Oh, Justin, think of your coming all this way to look for me--no one else in the world would have found me but you!”

“Sweetheart, I couldn’t possibly have done anything else, for if anything had happened to you----” she felt a shudder pass through him--“I should have gone mad, absolutely mad.”

For a moment her lips touched his hair.

He stirred immediately. “Darling, for Heaven’s sake, don’t waste a kiss like that!” He raised his face. “Let it be mine as well as yours.”

She drew back quickly. “I--I--didn’t think you--felt it,” she stammered confusedly.

“Of course I did--I felt it in every part of me--but let me take it and return it at once.” His upturned face still entreated her.

Very timidly, very shyly, she moved forward and laid her lips against his, and then--the darkness receded, the cavern, the mountains, the past, the future--all were forgotten.

“Oh, Justin,” breathed Iris at last, “why have you made me love you like--_this_?”

“Iris, might I not ask you the same unanswerable question?” he said, steadying her trembling form with the steely strength of his arm.

They sat for some moments in stillness, Iris beside him, her slim form leaning against his, her head close to his. At last she said, in a voice faint with the sweetness overwhelming her: “I did not know that--love could be like this; is it a madness, or is it an invisible avalanche from some other colossal world sweeping over us? Justin, what is it?”

“I don’t know; only I am afraid if I don’t go out into the cool air for awhile I shall lose my head.”

“I thought it--was lost and--mine too--it felt like it.”

“No, not quite; but for your dear sake I must go away and get calm.”

“But you won’t go far, or leave me long?” she asked with a half-stifled sigh as he rose.

“No, dearest, I will come back very soon.”

As his shadowy form stooped through the aperture Iris covered her face with her hands and sat absolutely motionless. She did not know how long he was away, but when he stood before her again she was all at once aware that she was cold.

“Iris,” he was saying in quiet, tender tones, “you must rest now; you need a good sleep, for there is a long walk before you to-morrow. Come over to this far corner, the wall is a little slanting there, so that you can almost lie down if you rest against it.” He helped her to her feet and felt the coldness of her hand. “Why, you are frozen--I am so sorry; you must put on my bluey.”

But she would not hear of it; he would be chilled if he stayed on the icy stones for the rest of the night without it, and she was absolutely final in her refusal.

“Very well,” he acquiesced after a good deal of argument, “I will put it on if you will share it with me; it is very large, big enough for both. I will lean against the slanting wall, and if you just come into my arms the coat will go round you too.”

* * * * *

“Are you comfy, darling?” he asked a minute later, when they were cosily settled against the rock.

“Yes, absolutely,” she breathed from the shelter of his arms, his coat enfolding her.

“Now you must go to sleep.”

“Are you going to sleep?”

“I am going to try.”

“Do you think you will?”

“I shall try hard; now you must not talk any more; close your dear eyes and go into dreamland till the morning.”

“Justin, you are very hard on me: I must neither talk nor listen.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t mean that,” he said with infinite gentleness; “only you are needing sleep after this hard day.”

For a time she lay quite still, then she stirred restlessly.

“Not asleep yet?” he said quietly.

“No,” she replied. “Justin, couldn’t you relent just a little and--talk a while longer?”

“Iris, I mustn’t--don’t you understand?”

“Yes,” she sighed; “but--but you haven’t said good-night.”

He kissed her hair. “Good-night, my beautiful Iris-flower--good-night!”

“Good-night,” she said, a tinge of disappointment creeping into her tones in spite of her efforts to keep it out.

A great stillness settled around them; neither of them moved. His arms held her to him with a gentle tenderness. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep; but all the time she was confusedly conscious of his nearness, the touch of his tweed coat, his breathing and the not too tranquil beating of his heart.

“If only he would hold me a little differently--as he held me before; if only he had kissed me good-night properly,” thought Iris, as she made strenuous efforts to sleep; but now--oh, why did his closeness, his breathing, affect her in this perturbing way? Why did his heart beat in that strange manner, as if it longed to throb fiercely, madly, but was held in check by some restraining curb?

The dark silence was terrible as she listened to the fierce thumping of his heart. His breathing grew uneven and hard, and she felt herself tremble in response to the turmoil within him. Her throat tightened.

“Justin, I can’t sleep, neither can you--won’t you talk to me?”

“I don’t think talking will make it any easier,” he replied in strange, shaking tones.

“It might.”

“Why can’t you sleep?” he asked suddenly.

“I suppose for the same reason that you can’t.”

There was a long, blinding silence.

“Oh, Justin--Justin--we cannot part--I simply could not endure it!” she sobbed.

His arms relaxed and he suddenly moaned aloud. “Darling, how can I make you my--wife? If I had worlds they should be yours; I would give you my life, myself, my all; there is no risk I would not run for you, no danger I would not face! But to drag you into humiliation and ruin, after all your amazing generosity and goodness--how could I do such a preposterously selfish thing? Besides, I love you; and that is----”

“But, dearest,” she entreated, her tears falling on his cheeks, “there would be no ruin and degradation; you will keep out of the way of danger and--there will never be any cause for unhappiness again.”

“How do you know?” he asked, as if his very soul was being rent.

The agony in his tones roused her from her own grief; she must comfort him immediately.

She thought a moment, then lifted her face and said, with a great, inspired tenderness: “Because my dear captive singer has been set free! He is no longer singing from the abyss of the caves; his voice came to me from the top of the mountains--he is there now.”

He heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, Iris, if that could only be so!”

“It _is_ so. My beloved singer is no longer in the caves, far away from freedom and gladness; he came to me to-night,” she went on in a soft, tremulous voice, “as a messenger from Heaven, and found me in my loneliness and sadness. Justin,” she added a little shyly, “don’t you believe in Heaven and in angels?”

“I have not thought much about those things,” he replied sadly, “till to-night, but now I know there is a--God.”

“What makes you know that now?”

“Because when I had almost given up all hope of finding you; when it was so dark that I could hardly stumble along and the clouds came down over the mountains; when I had come to the end of my own efforts and felt absolutely hopeless: then I remembered my talk with old Turner last evening.” He went on to tell her about their conversation and how it had led him to the place of hope and thence to the place of prayer; how he had prayed that he might find her, and that shortly afterwards he had been guided to her in the darkness.

Iris had listened breathlessly. Now she raised herself a little and said in very low tones: “But, Justin, if He can help you to find me--couldn’t He help you about--the other difficulty?”

Rees started slightly. “I suppose He could, but----”

“Then why not ask Him? He heard you before; that shows that He hears, and does as people ask.”

“I wonder--would He? He did not help me before.”

“No, but perhaps you never asked Him, and it seems He only does things when He is asked--and in the right way.”

“Oh, Iris--if only He would! That would solve all our difficulties.”

“Yes, and when you are helped you could show old Mr. Turner and others how they can be helped too. Do ask Him,” she urged.

“But I feel so unworthy, so----” He raised himself a little, leaning sideways against the rock. “Iris,” he continued, with a new shyness in his voice, “won’t you ask Him for me?”

“Of course I will--I will keep on asking till He does it.”

“But--won’t you ask Him now? It seems as if prayers are heard quicker on mountains. I remember as a child my nurse telling me that Christ went up to the mountains to pray.”

“Yes,” she replied thoughtfully, “I believe He did.”

“Precious one, ask Him for me while we are here together.”

Her head sank down on his breast again. He felt her hands clasped round his neck as if she were lifting him in her arms as she offered the first real prayer of her life. He felt her quick breathing and the tension of her soul as she pleaded passionately for his great, burning need!

Presently her hold loosened. “He is going to do it,” she cried confidently. “I am sure He meant to do it ever since you sat out there in the dark and prayed so strongly for me--that was so absolutely _dear_ of you! It was then you were set free and became the heavenly messenger sent to save me; and, Justin,” she whispered with reverent adoration, “you will always be that heavenly messenger to me now, who came to help me in my need and saved my life----”

“It is the other way about,” he whispered huskily: “it was you who found me in the dark cave and came to lead me out. But, my own precious one, it must be very late, and you ought not to talk any more; you really must have some sleep--do you think you feel more like sleeping now?”

“Yes, I feel much better.”

Once more he folded her to his heart, kissed her long and tenderly; and gradually, as he soothingly stroked her hair, she sank into a soft sleep.

After a time Rees slept too, and did not waken till the first faint glimmer of dawn quivered in the East.

As he stirred, Iris moved too, and looked round in the dimness, wonderingly.

“Darling, don’t you remember where you are?” he said, pressing her to him gently.

“Am I really here with you, or is it only another dream?”

“No, it is not a dream this time,” and as she was going to speak he closed her lips with his own.

Iris was then suddenly conscious that her hair had come down; its thick, wavy masses billowed over her lover’s shoulder. “Oh, Justin,” she cried in dismay, “all my hairpins have fallen out!”

“Never mind, I will soon find them.”

He lit a few matches, and gathered a handful from the ground.

“Is that all?” asked the girl in consternation.

“Yes, all that were on the ground--but I believe there are a few down my neck,” he remarked, with a happy smile on his face. Then, handing her a pocket comb, he added: “This is rather inadequate, but it may be a help to you”; and, with a caressing pressure, he left her; he was going to fill his lungs with the morning air and to take their bearings on the plateau. Presently she heard him singing joyously from the top of a rock outside.

A few moments afterwards they were on their way along the stony ridges towards the place of descent.

The great crags were deep blue as the sea, and, far below, the valleys lay wrapped in slumbrous shadows; while, above the awakening earth, the sky pulsated with saffron, carmine and pansy-purple splendour.

“How wonderful to see the world waking!” exclaimed Iris under her breath.

“Yes,” replied her companion, coming closer to her, “the sky is waking it with a--kiss.”

He gazed long and ardently at the girl beside him. The soft half-light of dawn seemed curiously to accentuate the loveliness of her face with its exquisite curves, its mobile, scarlet lips and the great starry eyes, now flashing like dusky jewels in the illumined dimness.

He caught his breath as he watched her.

The sun was just rising behind them, and as it crept above the far-away eastern hills a long shaft of apricot-tinted light swept over the towering peaks, making them look like huge, ethereal portals leading to some celestial world.

“Those are the gates to the place where the angels live!” said Iris, a great, soft beauty shining in her lustrous eyes.

“Yes,” replied her lover with reverent tenderness, “and we came near those portals last night; this time we have spent together has brought us to--them.”

As they walked on amongst rocky crests skirting sombre ravines opening at their feet, like huge jaws ready to swallow them into their sepulchral throats, they passed a calm mountain lake lying submissively at the foot of a tall, imperious crag, mirroring its rocky, dauntless features in its adoring heart, every crevice, every outline, every touch of shadowy bloom liquefied, mellowed in the translucent silky waters.

“Iris, do you see how that peak is reflected in its every detail in the breast of that pool? How the lakelet seems to exist merely to mirror its every mood, its varying shadows? That is just as your image is stamped on my heart, blotting out all else, making it only exist to receive the imprint of your beauty, the shades of your every mood.”

“Justin, your heart is too beautiful to hold such a faulty picture,” she whispered, with a catch in her voice.

“My darling,” he murmured, tightening his arm about her, “you must not say that, for your dear image is the most lovely, the most inspiring thing this world holds!”

He could not draw his eyes away from her. “Iris,” he continued, “do you know you are looking most radiant this morning--more radiant than I have ever seen you?”

“That is because I have been so long with--you,” she breathed, with downcast lashes. “Justin, it has been simply wonderful,” she added, glancing up at him for a moment.

“You have been really happy?”

“It has been--bliss!” she said tremulously.

He faced her, and drew her into his embrace. Her arms slipped about his neck, and she clung to him.

“Justin,” she whispered from his shoulder, “I shall never be able to exist without you, and the future will be--safe, for last night we found our way to those everlasting gates; we knocked for help, and no one who really finds those great portals knocks in vain.”