But  on  the  days  when  he  got  letters  from  Rawsley,
letters  so  bulky  that  they  were  sometimes  insufficiently


354  A  BED  OF  ROSES

stamped,  lie  would  go  out  early  and  only  return  at
night.  Then,  however,  he  returned  as  if  he  had  been
running,  full  of  some  nameless  fear  ;  he  would  strain
Victoria  to  him  and  hold  her  very  close,  burying  his
face  below  the  bedclothes  as  if  he  were  afraid.  On  one
of  those  days  Victoria  accidentally  saw  him  come  out  of
a  small  dissenting  chapel  near  by.  He  did  not  see
her,  for  he  was  walking  away  like  a  man  possessed ;
she  said  nothing  of  this  but  understood  liim  better,
having  an  inkling  that  the  fight  against  the  Rawsley
tradition  was  still  going  on.
She  did  not,  however,  allow  herself  to  be  moved  by
his  struggle.  It  behoved  her  to  hold  him,  for  he  was
her  last  chance  and  the  world  looked  rosy  round  her.
As  the  spring  turned  into  simimer  he  became  more
utterly  hers.
*  You  distil  poison  for  me,'  he  said  one  day  as  they
sat  by  the  rose  hung  pergola.
*  No,  Jack,  don't  say  that,  it's  the  elixir  of  life.'

*  The  elixir  of  life.  Perhaps,  but  poison  too.  To
make  me  live  is  to  make  me  die,  Victoria ;  we  are
both  sickening  for  death  and  to  hasten  the  current  of
life  is  to  hasten  our  doom.'

'Live  quickly,'  she  whispered,  bending  towards
him  ;  *  did  you  live  at  all  a  year  ago  ? '

*No,  no.'  His  arms  were  round  her  and  his  lips
insistent  on  hers.  He  frightened  her  a  little,  though.
