The Broad Highway

"Charmian!" said I, "Charmian--I love you! and God forbid that I

should ever doubt you any more."

So, with a sigh, she sank in my embrace, her arms crept about my

neck, and our lips met, and clung together. But even then--while

I looked upon her beauty, while the contact of her lips thrilled

through me--even then, in any mind, I saw the murderous pistol in

her hand--as I had seen it months ago. Indeed, it almost seemed

that she divined my thought, for she drew swiftly back, and

looked up at me with haggard eyes.

"Peter?" she whispered, "what is it--what is it?"

"Oh, Charmian!" said I, over and over again, "I love you--I

love you." And I kissed her appealing eyes, and stayed her

questioning lips with my kisses. "I love you more than my

life--more than honor--more than my soul; and, because I so

love you--to-night you must leave me--"

"Leave you?--ah no, Peter--no--no, I am your wife--I must stay

with you--to suffer and share your troubles and dangers--it is

my right--my privilege. Let us go away together, now--anywhere

--anywhere, only let us be together--my--husband."

"Don't!" I cried, "don't! Do you think it is so easy to remain

here without you--to lose you so soon--so very soon? If I only

loved you a little less! Ah! don't you see--before the week is

out, my description will be all over England; we should be

caught, and you would have to stand beside me in a court of

justice, and face the shame of it--"

"Dear love!--it would be my pride--my pride, Peter, to face them

all--to clasp this dear hand in mine--"

"Never!" I cried, clenching my fists; "never! You must leave me;

no one must know Charmian Brown ever existed--you must go!"

"Hush!" she whispered, clasping me tighter, "listen--some one is

coming!" Away to the right, we could hear the leaves rustling,

as though a strong wind passed through them; a light flickered,

went out, flickered again, and a voice hailed faintly: "Hallo!"

"Come," said Charmian, clasping my hand, "let us go and meet him."

"No, Charmian, no--I must see this man--alone. You must leave

here, to-night-now. You can catch the London Mail at the cross

roads. Go to Blackheath--to Sir Richard Anstruther--he is my

friend--tell him everything--"

She was down at my feet, and had caught my hand to her bosom.

"I can't!" she cried, "I can't go--and leave you here alone. I

have loved you so--from the very first, and it seems that each

day my love has grown until it is part of me. Oh, Peter!--don't

send me away from you--it will kill me, I think--"