No Name

fear of knowing was at that moment stronger still. She waited and trembled; she waited, and said no more.

'May I speak to you about your letters?' he asked. 'May I tell you—?'

If she had looked at him as he said those few words, she would have seen what he thought of her in his face. She would have seen, innocent as he was in this world's knowledge, that he knew the priceless value, the all- ennobling virtue, of a woman who speaks the truth. But she had no courage to look at him—no courage to raise her eyes from her lap.

'Not just yet,' she said, faintly. 'Not quite so soon after we have met again.'

She rose hurriedly from her chair, and walked to the window, turned back again into the room, and approached the table, close to where he was sitting. The writing materials scattered near him offered her a pretext for changing the subject, and she seized on it directly. 'Were you writing a letter,' she asked, 'when I came in?'

'I was thinking about it,' he replied. 'It was not a letter to be written without thinking first.' He rose as he answered her to gather the writing materials together and put them away.

'Why should I interrupt you?' she said. 'Why not let me try whether I can't help you instead? Is it a secret?'

'No, not a secret.'

He hesitated as he answered her. She instantly guessed the truth.

'Is it about your ship?'

He little knew how she had been thinking in her absence from him of the business which he believed that he had concealed from her. He little knew that she had learned already to be jealous of his ship. 'Do they want you to return to your old life?' she went on. 'Do they want you to go back to the sea? Must you say Yes or No at once?'

'At once.'

'If I had not come in when I did would you have said Yes?'

She unconsciously laid her hand on his arm, forgetting all inferior considerations in her breathless anxiety to hear his next words. The confession of his love was within a hair-breadth of escaping him; but he checked the utterance of it even yet. 'I don't care for myself,' he thought; 'but how can I be certain of not distressing her?'

'Would you have said Yes?' she repeated.

'I was doubting,' he answered—'I was doubting between Yes and No.'

Her hand tightened on his arm; a sudden trembling seized her in every limb, she could bear it no longer. All her heart went out to him in her next words:

'Were you doubting for my sake?'

'Yes,' he said. 'Take my confession in return for yours—I was doubting for your sake.'

She said no more; she only looked at him. In that look the truth reached him at last. The next instant she was folded in his arms, and was shedding delicious tears of joy, with her face hidden on his bosom.

'Do I deserve my happiness?' she murmured, asking the one question at last. 'Oh, I know how the poor narrow people who have never felt and never suffered would answer me if I asked them what I ask you. If they knew my story, they would forget all the provocation, and only remember the offense; they would fasten on my sin, and pass all my suffering by. But you are not one of them! Tell me if you have any shadow of a misgiving! Tell me if you doubt that the one dear object of all my life to come is to live worthy of you! I asked you to wait and see me; I asked you, if there was any hard truth to be told, to tell it me here with your own lips. Tell it, my love, my husband!—tell it me now!'

She looked up, still clinging to him as she clung to the hope of her better life to come.

'Tell me the truth!' she repeated.

'With my own lips?'

'Yes!' she answered, eagerly. 'Say what you think of me with your own lips.'

He stooped and kissed her.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of No Name, by Wilkie Collins

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