Chapter XXVIII: Conclusion

When they met next morning they stood in silence, but she dare not raise her eyes, and something puzzled him.

“Are you not pleased to see me?” asked Darville, astonished and dismayed. “You know, darling, that I have forgiven you on condition that you never see that man again.”

“I know, Seti, dearest!” she cried, raising her ready lips to his. “But----” and she hesitated. Then, taking a letter in a pale blue envelope from her bag, she handed it to him unopened. “This came from him this morning, and, though it may pain you, dearest, it is but right that you should have it. You may wish to read it. I do not want to see it. Read it and destroy it.”

He held the letter in his hand for a moment, sorely tempted to see what his false friend had written, and thus ascertain for himself upon what terms they had actually parted. His brow clouded for a second, for he was tortured by undying memories.

“No,” he said, with sudden impulse. “You have left him. That is all-sufficient. We will destroy it”; and he tore it into small fragments and cast it into the waste-paper basket. “If he writes again, give me his letters; I will destroy them unread,” he said.

“My dear, generous darling,” she cried, throwing her arms about his neck. “You cannot know how perfectly happy I am now that you have taken me back again to your heart. If I had loved that man I should have left you. But I never really had any affection for him--only a mad, foolish infatuation. He seemed to hold me in some uncanny fascination, but I never forgot my love for you, and when he spoke disparagingly of you, I always protested. I never ceased to tell him that I was yours.”

“I believe you, Carina,” Darville said at last, stroking her hair tenderly. “You will not be troubled by him much longer,” he said, with a meaning she did not grasp. “He is going to Russia, you say?”

“Yes, he has a Government appointment--quite a lucrative one, I believe.”

“Well, do not let us discuss him again, dear heart. Let us return to Stagsden, and to that complete happiness and bliss that was ours before we went to Switzerland. I have a business appointment at half-past ten, and we will leave by the 12.30.”

He returned to his room, and stood for a few minutes at the window deep in thought. His great grief had now given place to serious reflection. His brows were knit, and his hands were clenched. A fierce struggle was going on within himself. He recalled all his enemy’s wiles and trickery, and how very nearly his life had been wrecked by a man who was a deceiver of women. His blood boiled within him, and when he reviewed the past, he gritted his teeth and laughed a harsh, unreal laugh when he thought of the swift vengeance that he would mete out to his treacherous friend.

Suddenly he paused and bit his lip. He paced the room once or twice slowly. Then, with sudden impulse, he clasped his hands and threw them up to heaven, crying in a tense voice of distress:

“May God help me!”

His eyes were fixed above, his lips moved, but not a sound came from them. He was praying for his own soul.

Presently he grew calmer, and, taking his hat and coat, went out to his secret office in the hub of the world.

That same afternoon, while Edris and Darville were in the train returning to Stagsden, Karl Weiss received a letter, delivered by messenger, informing him with regret that the matter referred to at his interview had been satisfactorily cleared up, and, such being the circumstances, his proposed mission was canceled, his services not being required.

In his ignorance he never dreamed of the influence of Seton Darville, or of the narrow escape he had had at his hidden but all-powerful hand. Darville had relented and spared his life.

Indeed, on the morning following Darville received a most cruel and insulting letter from him, a letter in which the fellow revealed himself in his true colors. Baffled by Edris’s firm determination to cut herself adrift from him, his anger found vent in vituperation, threats, and disgusting references to his age.

Darville read the letter, and, laughing to himself, murmured: “Go to Canada, my false friend, and consider yourself lucky that you have escaped with your life!” The letter had been addressed to him, therefore he did not think it necessary to show it to Edris, and thus re-open a closed and unhappy chapter of their lives. So he tore it into fragments, and descended the broad staircase to the dining-room, where Edris, fresh and charming, stood alone, awaiting his morning kiss.

That beautiful spring day saw the rebirth of their great and wonderful love, and Mrs. Temperley, who now knew of their engagement, was not slow to notice the change that had suddenly come over the pair.

She and her husband had approved of the friendship from the first, because the General well knew the strong character of Seton Darville, and both he and his wife preferred seeing Edris the wife of a man of Seton’s age rather than her marriage with a shallow-minded young man like Lionel.

That morning, with the sun shining upon the fresh green spring blossoms everywhere, they wandered arm in arm in the grounds of Stagsden, blissfully happy in each other’s love, while Lord Simba played about them, his huge form almost knocking them down when, in his gambols, he pretended to pounce upon them.

“Do you know, Seti,” she exclaimed, after they had mutually agreed never to mention the name of Weiss in future, “I have a strange longing to go back to Interlaken--to the Hotel du Lac--and spend the early spring there upon the scene of your terrible grief and suffering. Let us return there, and live a life of happiness such as we have not yet known--blissful days that will wipe out the terrible memory of the past.”

“If you wish it, darling, we will go. Any day will suit me.”

And so, a week later, they went back to Switzerland, that peaceful, picturesque country that both of them loved so well, and, making Interlaken their headquarters, they wandered about the beautiful Bernese Oberland to those spots where Darville had experienced such overwhelming sorrow, when his love was being tested in the crucible of jealousy and deceit.

One day something recalled to Edris’s mind the winter sports of the previous year, and she said:

“I wonder I have never heard from little Mrs. Caborn. Do you remember her? I wrote to her a few months ago, but got no reply.”

He winced, but she did not notice it.

“Oh, I suppose she has forgotten you. Hotel acquaintances are easily made, and as easily dropped.”

What would she have thought had she known of her friend’s tragic end?

Weeks lengthened into months. The Alpine spring grew into summer, and they still remained there, both of them having no inclination to return to England.

One beautiful summer’s evening they were seated beneath the trees in the pretty shady park at Wengen, at a spot where they had often sat in those dark days of Edris’s fatal fascination.

“Do you recollect the last time we sat here, darling?” she asked him. “I lied to you, because I dared not tell you the truth.”

“My loved one, it is all forgiven,” he answered her. “I know that you remained mine all along.”

He drew her into his arms, and Edris put hers round his neck and clung tightly to him, and there, at last, she found the peace that she had always longed for, but until then had never gained.

* * * * * * *

If you stand on that broad promenade, the Höheweg, at Interlaken, with its row of handsome hotels, and its great meadows with the wide valley and the towering eternal snows of the Jungfrau in the background--one of the most gorgeous views in all Europe--you will see, upon the wooded mountain-side, a pretty white chalet, with balconies and wide, overhanging eaves and a wonderful garden of tangled roses, geraniums and wisteria.

If you ask who lives at that delightful spot, you will be told that it belongs to Mr. Seton Darville, the famous novelist, who lives there in peaceful happiness with his charming wife, both of them ardent lovers of Switzerland and the Swiss, and both extremely popular all over the Bernese Oberland.

THE END

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

Minor spelling inconsistencies (e.g. intrusted/entrusted, reëntering/re-entering, Zürich/Zurich, etc.) have been preserved.

Alterations to the text:

[Chapter VII]

“Besides he was not certain whether she had come to England” add a comma after _Besides_.

Change “I had a similar case a _fornight_ ago--an insured parcel” to _fortnight_.

[Chapter IX]

“Can you leave Paris at ten, and be at Victoria at _5:15_?” to _5.15_.

[Chapter X]

“See you on Saturday, and I’ll be delighted Good-by, Edris.” add a period after _delighted_.

[Chapter XIX]

“She crossed to where… and, bending, kissed him fondly” add a period to the sentence.

[Chapter XX]

“all three dined together in the great salle _a_ manger amid the gay” to _à_.

[Chapter XXIV]

“I am compelled to… while my heart is breaking I know that my” add a period after _breaking_.

[Chapter XXVI]

“That night the pair experienced a feeling of _strangement_” to _estrangement_.

[End of text]