So when the yacht had finished coaling she steamed out of the harbour of Samoa with Convict 1280 still on board.
Virginia's desire was to make for America, and to send for Madeleine, who had been living all this time with her aunt in an old Surrey manor-house belonging to Roger Broom. The brother and sister should stay at her house in Virginia until Maxime was free to return to France, and he would grow strong and well, and everybody concerned would be happy. It would be madness, she urged, for Maxime to put himself in the power of French law until such time as his innocence was officially acknowledged.
But Maxime thought otherwise. His innocence had been declared, and would sooner or later be acknowledged. The manly and honourable thing to do was to trust to the generosity of his adopted land. To France he would go, and boldly throw himself upon her mercy.
"He is right, Virginia," said Roger, fearing the while that secret jealousy influenced his decision.
"He is right," echoed George Trent, with no hidden thoughts at all.
Virginia held her peace, though her heart was full; and the ultimate destination of the Bella Cuba was France.
France did not disappoint Maxime's trust, but months passed before he was a free man. Meantime hope had given him new life. His sister was near him. Virginia Beverly was in Paris with an elderly relative of Roger Broom's as her chaperon-companion, instead of Kate Gardiner. Though he was virtually a prisoner, since the eye of the law was upon him, and the voice of the law pronounced that he should go so far and no farther, still he was happy, so happy that he often awoke from prison dreams, not daring to believe the present reality.
Then at last the day came when he was free. Madeleine was staying with Virginia. He would see them together. There was heaven in the thought. George Trent was there, but not Roger Broom. Roger had been called to England on business, but he was returning that evening.
Never had there been such a dinner as that which celebrated Maxime's release from the old bonds. Virginia had taken a beautiful house which had been to let furnished, near the Bois de Boulogne.
After the dinner the two girls with their brothers went out into the garden, the old aunt, exhausted with over-much joy, remaining indoors.
Virginia knew what would come next, and drew Madeleine away from the two young men that George might have the chance of asking Maxime for his sister. Five minutes later Maxime was squeezing Madeleine's hand, and telling her that no news could have made him so happy. Then, somehow, the lovers disappeared, and Virginia Beverly and Maxime Dalahaide were alone together.
"Everything good comes to us from you," he said, his voice unsteady. "What can I do to show you how I—how we worship you for all you have done, all you have been?"
"There is one thing you can do," Virginia answered softly. "A favour to me. There is a little gift I want to make to you, on this day of all others. I have been planning it, thinking of it for a long time. Here is this paper. Take it and read. You will see then what I mean, and why I want it so much."
It was a long, folded document of legal aspect which she thrust into his hand, and in the blue evening light he opened it. At sight of the first words the blood leaped to his dark face, marble no longer, but a man's face, young, handsome, and virile. He looked from the paper to Virginia.
"Why, it is a deed of gift!" he exclaimed. "The château—no, Miss Beverly, you are more than generous, but this cannot be. The château is yours—I would rather it belonged to you than to any one on earth, even myself—and yours it must remain."
"I bought it for you. It will break my heart if you refuse," said Virginia, with tears in her voice.
The sound of her pain smote him with anguish. He lost his head and forgot the barrier between them—that he was poor, with a dark past and an uncertain future, that she was a great heiress.
"Break your heart!" he repeated. "My darling, my angel, I would give all the blood in mine for one smile from you. I never meant to say this. I oughtn't to say it now, but—it said itself. You must have known before. You are the very soul of me, though I'm not worthy to touch your dear hand. I couldn't take the old home from you—don't you understand? I couldn't live there again with this love of you in my heart, for it would make it so much the harder. I can't forget you; I would rather die than forget you. This love is too sweet to live without, but I know very well that we can never be anything to each other, and my plans are all made. As soon as Madeleine is married I shall go out to Africa and try for luck as other men have tried—and found it. It is better for me to be far away from you——"
"No, no, I love you!" cried Virginia. Then putting him from her with a quick gesture: "But it will be I who go far away from you. I have no right to care. My cousin, Roger Broom, will take me to England—anywhere—it doesn't matter. I promised long ago to marry him. In the winter perhaps——"
"In the winter you and Max here will be spending your honeymoon at the Château de la Roche," said Roger's voice, with a hard cheerfulness. "That old promise—why, I never meant to hold you to it, dear. I don't take bribes, and—I saw this coming long ago. I'm quite content it should be so. You'll forgive me for overhearing, won't you, girlie? I didn't mean to give you such a surprise, but I'm not sorry now. Give me your hand, Max, old man, and you, Virginia. There! I'm glad it should be the old cousin-guardian who joins them together."
"You mean it, Roger?" panted Virginia.
"Of course I mean it."
The two hands joined under his. And the man and the girl were too happy to read anything save kindness in its nervous pressure.
The House by the Lock
II. The Man With the Pale Eyes
X. “If He Had Committed a Crime”