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Updated: May 6, 2025
Yet there was something splendid in the very recklessness of her beauty. She was a queen who did not need to assert her rights. There were other women present, and Merefleet was not even conscious of the fact. "Who?" asked Seton, in response to her careless inquiry. She nodded in Merefleet's direction and caught his eye as she did so.
The hand that lay beneath his own twitched as if agitated. "What do you know about trouble?" said Merefleet. She did not answer him. Only he heard a long, hard sigh. Then she laughed rather mirthlessly. "Well," she said, "there aren't many things in this world worth crying for. You've had enough of me, I guess. It's time I shunted." She tried to withdraw her hand, but Merefleet's hold tightened.
"My dear girl, you will never make a social ornament of me as long as you live," he said. And Mab patted his arm affectionately. "You're nicer as you are, dear boy," she said. "You aren't smart, it's true, but I give you the highest mark for real niceness." Seton's eyes met Merefleet's for a second. There was a touch of uneasiness about him, as if he feared Merefleet might misconstrue something.
And Seton, meeting Merefleet's eyes, shrugged his shoulders as if disclaiming all further responsibility. Mab leant forward. "You'd better come, Mr. Merefleet," she said in a motherly tone. "It'll be a degree more lively than mooning around by yourself." And Merefleet yielded, touched by something indescribable in the beautiful, glowing eyes that were lifted to his.
And Merefleet's voice answered her. "Yes," it said. "I have come for you in earnest this time. You won't send me away again?" Mab lifted her face with a glad smile. "I guess there's no need," she said. "My dear, I'll come now." And they went away together in the sunlight. "And now I guess I'll tell you the story of the first Mrs. Ralph Warrender," said Mab, some time later.
He knows I wasn't made prim and proper." She paused. Merefleet's hand was on her own. He sat in silence, but somehow his silence was kind. She went on. "I wasn't going to speak last night. Only you looked so melancholy at dinner. And then I thought p'r'aps you were lonely, like I am. I didn't find out till afterwards that you didn't like the way I talked."
And no one will ever know. "Now, I'll tell you a secret, Big Bear, about the woman you know of. You must put your head down for I'll have to whisper. That's the way. Now! She's just madly in love with you, Big Bear. And she is quite, quite free to tell you so. There! And I reckon she's not Death's property any more. She's just yours." The narrative ended in Merefleet's arms.
A few weeks later Quiller the younger looked up from a newspaper with a grin. "Mr. Merefleet's married our little missie, dad," he announced. "I saw it coming t'other day." And old Quiller looked up with a gleam of intelligence on his wrinkled face. "Why!" he said, with slow triumph. "If that ain't what I persuaded him for to do, long, long ago! He's a sensible lad, is Master Bernard."
Merefleet's face grew stern. "You did not say that yesterday," he said. She heard the change in his tone, and looked up. She was better able to meet this from him. "I know," she said. "And I guess that was where I went wrong. I ought to have waited till we were dead. But, you see, I didn't know." "Then do you tell me you are not free?" Merefleet said. "Do you mean literally that?
With a heavy sense of irrevocable loss he went to bed and slept the dreamless sleep of exhaustion for many hours. The adventure was over. It had ended with a tameness that gave it an almost commonplace aspect. But Merefleet's resolution was of stout manufacture. The consequences of that night and day of peril involved his whole future.
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