The Claw - Part 43
Library

Part 43

All was very still. No sound in the room but the echoes of softly departing feet, and a laboured, puffing sound like the panting of some far-off train climbing a steep hill. Yet there were no trains in Matebeleland. After a little while I knew that the sound was there beside me on the couch. When the mists cleared away from my eyes I looked into the face of the dying man.

It was Maurice.

He was whispering wordlessly to me, and looking up into my eyes with his that were full of chivalrous fires and some other wondrous light that had never been in them before. From his lips came the little panting laboured sound.

Supporting his head--pale and lean, but with the old intent strong glance, the little blue stones in his ears, and a great white scar gleaming along his forehead back into his hair--was Anthony Kinsella.

We took one glance of each other, while the world rocked beneath my feet. Then I gathered my husband's head to my breast.

"Maurice! Maurice! This is all wrong--what has happened? You must not die!"

A smile of triumph lit his face. He lay there like a dying Galahad with the beauty of death on him: n.o.bler and more gallant than he had ever been before. Like the sad music of old remembered bells I heard Anthony's voice telling the brief tale.

"He put up a splendid fight with those two Imbezu fellows. I could do nothing to help until he had disabled them and unbound me. We got clear away then, after hard riding. All yesterday we travelled hard, and were certain no one was following. But this afternoon, about two hours' ride from here, just as we were moving on after a short 'off-saddle,' a single shot was fired from behind a bush--it was meant for me of course--a last effort to pot me before we got in. But--G.o.d! Stair, what can I say?--You have given your life for mine! What can I say--or do!"

Triumph flickered once more across the death-dewed face of Maurice Stair; and his pale half-smiling lips whispered faintly back:

"That's all right old man... Kiss me goodbye, Deirdre _... I have told him everything_."

With his hand in Anthony's and his head on my breast he died.

The End.