The Well-Beloved | Page 9

'I should think so! They tried to ruin my father by getting away his
trade--or, at least, the founder of the company did--old Bencomb.'
'He's my father!'
'Indeed. I am sorry I should have spoken so disrespectfully of him, for I
never knew him personally. After making over his large business to the
company, he retired, I believe, to London?'
'Yes. Our house, or rather his, not mine, is at South Kensington. We
have lived there for years. But we have been tenants of Sylvania Castle,
on the island here, this season. We took it for a month or two of the
owner, who is away.'
'Then I have been staying quite near you, Miss Bencomb. My father's is
a comparatively humble residence hard by.'
'But he could afford a much bigger one if he chose.'
'You have heard so? I don't know. He doesn't tell me much of his
affairs.'
'My father,' she burst out suddenly, 'is always scolding me for my
extravagance! And he has been doing it to-day more than ever. He said
I go shopping in town to simply a diabolical extent, and exceed my

allowance!'
'Was that this evening?'
'Yes. And then it reached such a storm of passion between us that I
pretended to retire to my room for the rest of the evening, but I slipped
out; and I am never going back home again.'
'What will you do?'
'I shall go first to my aunt in London; and if she won't have me, I'll
work for a living. I have left my father for ever! What I should have
done if I had not met you I cannot tell--I must have walked all the way
to London, I suppose. Now I shall take the train as soon as I reach the
mainland.'
'If you ever do in this hurricane.'
'I must sit here till it stops.'
And there on the nets they sat. Pierston knew of old Bencomb as his
father's bitterest enemy, who had made a great fortune by swallowing
up the small stone-merchants, but had found Jocelyn's sire a trifle too
big to digest--the latter being, in fact, the chief rival of the Best- Bed
Company to that day. Jocelyn thought it strange that he should be
thrown by fate into a position to play the son of the Montagues to this
daughter of the Capulets.
As they talked there was a mutual instinct to drop their voices, and on
this account the roar of the storm necessitated their drawing quite close
together. Something tender came into their tones as quarter-hour after
quarter-hour went on, and they forgot the lapse of time. It was quite late
when she started up, alarmed at her position.
'Rain or no rain, I can stay no longer,' she said.
'Do come back,' said he, taking her hand. 'I'll return with you. My train
has gone.'

'No; I shall go on, and get a lodging in Budmouth town, if ever I reach
it.'
'It is so late that there will be no house open, except a little place near
the station where you won't care to stay. However, if you are
determined I will show you the way. I cannot leave you. It would be
too awkward for you to go there alone.'
She persisted, and they started through the twanging and spinning
storm. The sea rolled and rose so high on their left, and was so near
them on their right, that it seemed as if they were traversing its bottom
like the Children of Israel. Nothing but the frail bank of pebbles
divided them from the raging gulf without, and at every bang of the tide
against it the ground shook, the shingle clashed, the spray rose
vertically, and was blown over their heads. Quantities of sea- water
trickled through the pebble wall, and ran in rivulets across their path to
join the sea within. The 'Island' was an island still.
They had not realized the force of the elements till now. Pedestrians
had often been blown into the sea hereabout, and drowned, owing to a
sudden breach in the bank; which, however, had something of a
supernatural power in being able to close up and join itself together
again after such disruption, like Satan's form when, cut in two by the
sword of Michael,
'The ethereal substance closed, Not long divisible.'
Her clothing offered more resistance to the wind than his, and she was
consequently in the greater danger. It was impossible to refuse his
proffered aid. First he gave his arm, but the wind tore them apart as
easily as coupled cherries. He steadied her bodily by encircling her
waist with his arm; and she made no objection.
* * *
Somewhere about this time--it might have been sooner, it might have
been