And she, still kneeling, did cry out with a wild voice, "They lied who
named me, for in an ill hour was I born, and I have not patience to
support it! I thought that thou didst love me, and lo! thou lovest the
husband of another woman more than thou lovest me!"
He bent to lift her up, groaning, but she would not; whereat he trembled
from head to foot, and she shook with his trembling as the leaves of a
tree when the shaft is smitten by lightning. And she cried out again,
and said, "As there is a God in heaven, thou dost not love me, an thou
canst go to war and leave me to die o' grief." Then, as though 'twas
torn from him, he burst forth, "Now as there is a God, thou dost not
love _me_, to torture me thus!"
And all at once she was quiet. So he stooped and lifted her, and called
her his "bride," and his "wife," and his "darling," and his "heart's
blood," and more wild, fond, foolish names than at this day I can
remember. 'Twas near sundown, and that night he was to ride. Over
against the dark jags o' th' hills there ran a narrow streak of light,
like a golden ribbon. And the brown clouds above and below it were like
locks o' hair made wanton by the wind, which it as a fillet did seek to
bind. But they twain walked ever on, till by-and-by they neared that
cave o' which I did tell ye. As they came in front o't my lady turned,
and smiling piteously, "Ernle," saith she, "wilt thou go with me into
the cave and kiss me there, that when thou art gone I may come hither
and think o' thee?"
And he said, "Oh, my heart! what would I not for thee?" And he kissed
her again and again.
Presently she said, "Do not think me foolish, but wilt thou enter
first?--it is so dark." And she stood in the door-way, with her hand on
the door, while he entered.