Once Upon A Time | Page 9

neither flattered nor offended. For her it was no novel or disturbing
experience. Other men, whipped on by loneliness, by fever, by
primitive savage instincts, had told her what she meant to them. She did
not hold them responsible. Some, worth curing, she had nursed through
the illness. Others, who refused to be cured, she had turned over, with a
shrug, to her husband. This one was more difficult. Of men of Everett's
traditions and education she had known but few; but she recognized the
type. This young man was no failure in life, no derelict, no outcast

flying the law, or a scandal, to hide in the jungle. He was what, in her
Maxim days, she had laughed at as an aristocrat. He knew her Paris as
she did not know it: its history, its art. Even her language he spoke
more correctly than her husband or herself. She knew that at his home
there must be many women infinitely more attractive, more suited to
him, than herself: women of birth, of position; young girls and great
ladies of the other world. And she knew, also, that, in his present state,
at a nod from her he would cast these behind him and carry her into the
wilderness. More quickly than she anticipated, Everett proved she did
not over-rate the forces that compelled him.
The excursion to the rapids was followed by a second dinner on board
the Nigeria. But now, as on the previous night, Everett fell into sullen
silence. He ate nothing, drank continually, and with his eyes devoured
the woman. When coffee had been served, he left the others at table,
and with Madame Ducret slowly paced the deck. As they passed out of
the reach of the lights, he drew her to the rail, and stood in front of her.
"I am not quite mad," he said, "but you have got to come with me."
To Everett all he added to this sounded sane and final. He told her that
this was one of those miracles when the one woman and the one man
who were predestined to meet had met. He told her he had wished to
marry a girl at home, but that he now saw that the desire was the fancy
of a school-boy. He told her he was rich, and offered her the choice of
returning to the Paris she loved, or of going deeper into the jungle.
There he would set up for her a principality, a state within the State. He
would defend her against all comers. He would make her the Queen of
the Congo.
"I have waited for you thousands of years!" he told her. His voice was
hoarse, shaken, and thick. "I love you as men loved women in the Stone
Age--fiercely, entirely. I will not be denied. Down here we are cave
people; if you fight me, I will club you and drag you to my cave. If
others fight for you, I will kill them. I love you," he panted, "with all
my soul, my mind, my body, I love you! I will not let you go!"
Madame Ducret did not say she was insulted, because she did not feel

insulted. She did not call to her husband for help, because she did not
need his help, and because she knew that the ex-wrestler could break
Everett across his knee. She did not even withdraw her hands, although
Everett drove the diamonds deep into her fingers.
"You frighten me!" she pleaded. She was not in the least frightened.
She only was sorry that this one must be discarded among the
incurables.
In apparent agitation, she whispered, "To-morrow! To-morrow I will
give you your answer."
Everett did not trust her, did not release her. He regarded her jealously,
with quick suspicion. To warn her that he knew she could not escape
from Matadi, or from him, he said, "The train to Leopoldville does not
leave for two days!"
"I know!" whispered Madame Ducret soothingly. "I will give you your
answer to-morrow at ten." She emphasized the hour, because she knew
at sunrise a special train would carry her husband and herself to
Leopoldville, and that there one of her husband's steamers would bear
them across the Pool to French Congo.
"To-morrow, then!" whispered Everett, grudgingly. "But I must kiss
you now!"
Only an instant did Madame Ducret hesitate. Then she turned her cheek.
"Yes," she assented. "You must kiss me now."
Everett did not rejoin the others. He led her back into the circle of light,
and locked himself in his cabin.
At ten the next morning, when Ducret and his wife were well advanced
toward Stanley Pool, Cuthbert handed Everett a note. Having been told
what it contained, he did not move away, but, with his