He saw her in another second of lightning, a sudden, bright one. Her back
was turned to him; she had taken a few startled steps from him.
"Ah," he cried, "you are glad enough, now, to see me go! I knew it. I
wanted to spare myself that. I tried not to be a hysterical fool in your
eyes." He turned aside and his head fell on his breast. "God help me," he
said, "what will this place be to me now?"
The breeze had risen; it gathered force; it was a chill wind, and there
rose a wailing on the prairie. Drops of rain began to fall.
"You will not think a question implied in this," he said more composedly,
and with an unhappy laugh at himself. "I believe you will not think me
capable of asking you if you care----"
"No," she answered; "I--I do not love you."
"Ah! Was it a question, after all? I--you read me better than I do,
perhaps--but if I asked, I knew the answer."
She made as if to speak again, but words refused her.
After a moment, "Good-by," he said, very steadily. "I thank you for the
charity that has given me this little time with you--it will always be--
precious to me--I shall always be your servant." His steadiness did not
carry him to the end of his sentence. "Good-by."
She started toward him and stopped, without his seeing her. She answered
nothing; but stretched out her hand to him and then let it fall quickly.
"Good-by," he said again. "I shall go out the orchard gate. Please tell
them good-night for me. Won't you speak to me? Good-by."
He stood waiting while the rising wind blew their garments about them. She
leaned against the wall of the house. "Won't you say good-by and tell me
you can forget my----"
She did not speak.
"No!" he cried, wildly. "Since you don't forget it! I have spoiled what
might have been a pleasant memory for you, and I know it. You were already
troubled, and I have added, and you won't forget it, nor shall I--nor
shall I! Don't say good-by--I can say it for both of us. God bless you--
and good-by, good-by, good-by!"
He crushed his hat down over his eyes and ran toward the orchard gate. For
a moment lightning flashed repeatedly; she saw him go out the gate and
disappear into sudden darkness. He ran through the field and came out on
the road. Heaven and earth were revealed again for a dazzling white
second. From horizon to horizon rolled clouds contorted like an
illimitable field of inverted haystacks, and beneath them enormous volumes
of pale vapor were tumbling in the west, advancing eastward with sinister
swiftness. She ran to a little knoll at the corner of the house and saw
him set his face to the storm. She cried aloud to him with all her
strength and would have followed, but the wind took the words out of her
mouth and drove her back cowering to the shelter of the house.