She took up a thin shawl that was lying near, opened the long window very gently, and stepped out. But she was mistaken: some one did miss her, and that some one was Adrian. No gesture, no movement of hers ever escaped him. She was gone out into the sweet, dewy, fragrant gloaming, and he longed to follow her.
He read on patiently until--oh, pleasant sight!--he saw Sir Arthur's eyes begin to close. He had purposely chosen the dryest articles, and had read slowly until the kind god Morpheus came to his aid, and Sir Arthur slept. Then Adrian rose and followed Hyacinth. The band was playing at the further end of the gardens, and Mozart's sweet music came floating through the trees.
It was such a dim pleasant light under the vines, and the music of the dripping water was so sweet. His instinct had not deceived him: something white was gleaming by the rock. He walked with quiet steps. She was sitting watching the falling waters, looking so fair and lovely in that dim green light. He could contain himself no longer; he sprung forward and caught her in his arms.
"I have found you at last, Hyacinth," he said--"I have found you at last."
Hyacinth Vaughan turned round in startled fear and wonder, and then she saw her lover's face, and knew by her womanly instinct what was coming. She made no effort to escape; she had been like a frightened, half-scared bird, but now a great calm came over her, a solemn and beautiful gladness.
"Hyacinth, forgive me," he said--"I have been looking for you so long. Oh, my darling, if ever the time should come that I should look for you and not find you, what should I do?"
In this, one of the happiest moments of his life, there came to him a presentiment of evil--one of those sharp, sudden, subtle instincts for which he could never account--a sense of darkness, as though the time were coming when he should look for that dear face and not find it, listen for the beloved voice and not hear it--when he should call in vain for his love and no response meet his ears. All this passed through his mind in the few moments that he held her in his arms and looked in her pure, faultless face.
"Have I startled you?" he asked, seeing how strangely pale and calm it had grown. "Why have you been so cruel to me, Hyacinth? Did you not know that I have been seeking for you all day, longing for five minutes with you? For, Hyacinth, I want to ask you something. Now you are trembling--see how unsteady these sweet hands are. I do not want to frighten you, darling; sit down here and let us talk quietly."